Today is Harry Potter's birthday. Yes, it's true, the Boy Who Lived is now the ripe old age of 28. Or maybe 27. But for sure no longer 17.
Which is a little sad to me. I still love this series. I still listen to the books in my quiet times at work, enjoying the little things that ended up meaning something. I don't think that JK Rowling is the best author in the world, but I think she writes a pretty good story. Some of the things she does: all the alliteration, "said Percy pompously," "Bagman boisterously", (ugh!), the book to book to book references of Snape's "curtain of black hair," Hermione's cat being a "fluffy ginger cushion," drives me mad. But I don't notice it as much when reading as I do when listening.
But I have to admit, I love this series. I listened to book 7 a few weeks ago, and I still love the ending, the grand finale if you will, with nearly every character brought back for their own curtain call. I don't think she could have ended the series better.
Happy Birthday, Harry! Thanks for getting me through so many hours of data entry. I'm glad you lived.
Oh, and I just thought of this. Tomorrow night is the release of Breaking Dawn, Stephenie Meyer's new Twilight book. I'm half tempted to run down to my B & N and wait in line (even though I don't own any of the other books) just to remember the fun of the HP release nights. I'm interested to find out what happens to Ed & Bella, even though I sometimes wish the Volturi would take care of her for us. I really hope that we WON'T see any Bella-thrown-over-the-back scenes in BD, but that may be too much to wish for.
1 comment:
What a cute post.
Happy Birthday Harry!
(I still haven't finished Breaking Dawn. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?)
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