And like Stephen King, “I [was] in line with my money in hand on July 21. And, I must admit, sorrow in my heart.”
I’m honestly numb sitting here typing this up with a Borders glow-stick bathing me with it’s soothing warmth. 15 hours ago, I left a sleeping Jamie to head to Borders after contemplating whether or not to wait for my Amazon shipment of pick up my pre-order from Borders in
I arrived at Borders around 11:15 PM to find something that reminded me of conventions in my past. Random people becoming quick friends. Relationships forming on the spot. Magic all around. I was number 608.
I arrived home at 2:00 AM to begin my final journey. A journey King also summarizes well, “Those kids are now 18, and when they close the final book, they will be in some measure closing the book on their own childhoods — magic summers spent in the porch swing, or reading under the covers at camp with flashlights in hand, or listening to Jim Dale's recordings on long drives to see Grandma in Cincinnati or Uncle Bob in Wichita. My advice to families containing Harry Potter readers: Stock up on the Kleenex. You're gonna need it. It's all made worse by one unavoidable fact: It's not just Harry. It's time to say goodbye to the whole cast, from Moaning Myrtle to Scabbers the rat (a.k.a. Wormtail). Which leads to an interesting question — will the final volume satisfy Harry's longtime (and very devoted) readers?”
My answer to that 759 pages, 12 hours, and 28 hours of uninterrupted consciousness later is simply yes.
“The Internet blog sites will be full of this was bad and that was wrong, but it's going to boil down to something that many will feel and few will come right out and state: No ending can be right, because it shouldn't be over at all.”
I can honestly say that I sit here impressed at what I have just borne witness, and I must than Jo for the memories and the magic. I look forward to revisiting her world over and over.