End of an era
I'm not sure when the fascination begain, but once I'd picked up the first book back in 1998-99 I was instantly hooked. After trying to recommend it to my sister (and her children) multiple times and being rebuked for peddling witchcraft (though she has since seen the light), I was content to loan the first book out to every friend I had to try to spread the geeky love that was beginning to grow in my heart. The next book increased the complexity, and with each new release I was more and more convinced of both the author's skill and the depth of the world that she had created. I finally found a cohort in college in '04, and we have since spent possibly hours discussing plot points and hypothesizing wildly about the very final volume, which was released early this past Saturday morning (and finished by both of us later that same day).Yes, I'm a big Harry Potter nerd.
After calling to reserve weeks prior, pretty much our entire weekend was taken up by this little collection of words on paper. Both of us avoided any media source that even hinted at giving spoilers, and woke up quite early on Friday to line up for wristbands that gave a letter grouping for later that evening. We were in the first two groups, which meant that we'd hopefully be among the first to crack the cover, but then we had to return to the store that evening for the festivities and yet more lines. There were loads of children, loads of teens (in costume) and enough adults that it was difficult to walk through the 3-level store. We took advantage of their promotional activities with no shame (ah, the bravado given by cocktails and anticipation) and got ourselves little baggies with "magic" rocks and a scrap of parchment declaring ourselves members of Dumbledore's Army (though my stunning spell only works when I actually hit people). Also, we ended up with glow-in-the-dark round glasses and a perfect score on the trivia game.
Finally it was time to break off into our groups, and M went to one end of the store while I held down the other. I was in the first section of the line, behind a tiny little nervous man who was holding spots for his teenage children and before a group of young college kids who had a video camera and some costumes (I believe most of them were Ravenclaws). Luckily, I was near a column so I leaned lazily and watched the crowd, doing my typical "which house do they belong in?" mental excercise (I feel that I'm quite accurate. One of the "Ravenclaws" behind me should have totally been a Hufflepuff). Then my entire body started sweating and the heat felt out of control. I was standing near a door that was open to the cool night air, so I took off my hoodie and turned toward the breeze. I texted M that I felt sick and suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. As I was leaning over to try to improve circulation to my head, my ears quickly felt as though they filled with cotton and my last clear thought was "...oh dear". Then I woke up on the floor with a wide array of little people, Death Eaters, and faux-Ravenclaws staring at me anxiously. The nervous man went into hyperdrive and got me a chair and some water, and I sat red-faced, explaining that I didn't want to go outside (particularly not with only 5 minutes remaining!) and that I felt a lot better, thank you. I remembered that my coffee of that evening was the first caffiene of any kind I'd had in over 2 months, and that perhaps I shouldn't have ordered what WAS my typical double shot of espresso. Buoyed up by my fellow line-members, I finally made it to the register at 12:03 a.m. and held the orange-covered brick-of-a-book in my hands (seriously, it's like 760 pages). I went to find M and started reading as I walked, then drove home (not reading, though it was a struggle) and kept reading until 4 a.m., when my face hit the book and I decided to call it a night. I woke up again at 10 and stayed curled on the couch until 4 p.m., not moving except to grab more tissue and occasionally stop to reassure the dogs that nothing was wrong (they don't "get" fiction). Finally, after the last page was turned, I was able to reenter the living and realize that I really, REALLY had to go to the bathroom and that my stomach had been growling for probably the last three hours.
It's been years since I have so completely lost myself in a book, much less an entire series of books, and for that I'm eternally grateful to J.K. Rowling. She's given me weeks of excellent-quality entertainment and I can't wait for the day when I'm able to share that with my nephew and nieces (they're a little young for the scary factor, still) and I still delight in loaning all my books to friends.
And for one little last bit of Harry randomness, here are some texts from the past couple of months:
J: (trying to figure out how best to get book) I just want the words. Dont need actual spells and gadgets
J: (frustrated by bookstores) Is not funny is trauma! I weep non magic tears
J: (found it) I am calling them now. Will start making wizard hat tonight
M: Im still wrkin on my sorting hat
J: Am reserved! How long to find a good wand, you think?
J: Was just going to walk in the woods until a stick called to me
M: Stick talker
J: Dont hate. We have a special bond
M: Sorting hat sorts!
J: (pirate + wizard = ) Arrbacadabra!
M: New theory: snape dies
M: He good just dies savin harry
M: 2: both harry and voldy die
J: I think they meld into a cyborg
M: Cpt kirk dies
J (after getting book) Crying like a baby here
M: Ditto
posted by LadyJay @ 3:57 PM
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