My mom suggested I read Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner over winter break.

So I did, basically because I didn't have anything else to read. My mom is cool and everything, but we don't exactly share the same taste in books (she read about one page of my copy of America (The Book) before slamming it shut). I think she felt violated. But she swore The Kite Runner was really good, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to at least read the back cover. Hmm. A book about kites, I thought, and possibly running after them. I'm not sure, but I don't think I like kites. OK ...

The book's front cover was even less promising: a dreary illustration of a town in Afghanistan. After just the first few pages, though, I realized my preconceived notions were way, way off. My kindergarten teacher had been right all along: Never judge a book by its cover.

Because The Kite Runner -- impressively, Hosseini's very first novel -- is one of the most compelling books I have read in the past few years (Thanks, Mom!).

The Kite Runner begins in Afghanistan in the 1960s. Amir, a privileged Pashtun, has a complicated friendship with Hassan, the son of his father's servant. While Amir and his father, Baba, are influential and respected in their wealthy neighborhood, Hassan and his father are in a lower social class and, to say the least, not treated as well.

As the boys -- both motherless -- are growing up, they watch Afghanistan's monarchy regime crumble. Twelve-year-old Amir, though, has bigger worries --namely, gaining his father's love and approval, much of which seems to go to Hassan. This is where the kites, apparently a hugely popular sport in Afghanistan, come in; Amir gets his big chance to prove himself to Baba at a kite-fighting contest. If his is the last kite flying -- and if his kite runner, Hassan, can secure the last kite he knocked out of the sky -- his father will finally see him as a strong, competitive young man.

Does this seem sort of fluffy so far? A boy yearning for his father's love? It might, because I unfortunately lack the storytelling skills and poignant descriptions that Hosseini infused into his novel.

The Kite Runner is anything but fluff. Case in point, the graphic scene at the end of the kite-fighting contest. I don't want to give too much away, but this is the turning point of the book -- if you want a hint, Amir becomes a very, very bad best friend.

Amir's life is a whirlwind after this point. His guilt swells and eventually taints his every thought and action; his bond with Hassan is never the same. When the Soviets invade Afghanistan in 1979, Baba and Amir escape to America. A world away from their mansion and servants in Kabul, the father-son relationship almost reverses. Baba, now a tired and occasionally childish old man, works a menial job at a gas station. Amir, attending school for an English degree, must keep Baba out of trouble. Life goes on, yet Amir is still haunted by his past.

I read the first two segments of the 384-page book -- Amir's life in Afghanistan, then America -- in just a couple days because of the twists and turns. Every time I thought Amir was in the clear, something else -- a bully ferociously taunting Hassan, major lapses while escaping Kabul -- popped up.

By the third segment, though, I was flipping the pages at a ridiculously obscene rate; not to brag or anything, but I stayed up until almost 5 a.m. to finish the book before returning to State College.

Again, I don't want to give too much away, so I will just say that in the final segment of the book -- which, as it turns out, is by no means a conclusion -- Amir is summoned back to Kabul, which is now destroyed by the Taliban. His mission is ... something I cannot explain right here and now. You have to read it.

I recently read that The Kite Runner is going to be adapted into a movie. I cringed at first, thinking about all the crappy book-to-film transitions that have been made. However, with Hosseini's harrowing storyline, clear imagery and absolutely unforgettable characters, I predict The Kite Runner will be one amazing movie.