Jamie Parsell
Dear Harry Potter, I came. I read. I conquered seven books in 157 days — almost six months worth of charms, spells and magic. In July, I accepted the challenge of finally reading the Harry Potter series, even if I was 10 years too late. For a decade, I ignored the plea of the bookshelf, even daring to choose mindless romances and stuffy classics. I turned my back on popular culture, even bypassing your movies. I was a snob. A book snob, content with my resume of trusted genres. I thought there was no way I could read a Harry Potter book, especially seven of them, all thicker than the dictionary. I thought I would be bored. I was wrong. In 157 days — a conglomerate of vacation, the swine flu, work and the holidays — I conquered the series, with no magic or wand to help push the pages. My favorite book? All of them. But the last books are the best. And my favorite character — besides you, Harry — would be Hermoine. But honestly, it is hard to pick a favorite scene, character or spell out of seven different books. I would have to pick sides and create pros and cons lists.
lll
In my last letter, dated October 2009, I wrote about the first four books. The last books in the series, books five, six and seven were so big I could have used them as doorstops. Seriously. Hooked on your charm, I ignored football and new TV shows because my nose was stuck in a book. Could I finish the books before the New Year? But thanks to an upper respiratory infection, the swine flu and a blizzard, I turned the pages, one after another, without even noticing the sun slipping into twilight. And when the holidays approached, I took you on road trips, Harry. Too big to fit in my purse, I carried a book like a wand full of magical spells. Waiting at the doctor’s office or watching my mom prepare the holiday meal, I snuck in small bouts of reading, determined to find out what happens next to you and your friends. The scenes unfolded in my mind, creating a mini-movie that never seemed to equal the real DVDs. I like my imagination better than Hollywood anyway.
lll
At the end of book six — I timed it exactly during the DVD’s release — I started to get slightly worried about you and your friends at Hogwarts. I was nervous about your future, Harry. Would you grow up to be an adult wizard or stuck forever as a teenage boy wizard with a broken wand? I understood the anxiety of fans, all who stood in line for the midnight debut of book seven. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait in line. Book seven sat on the shelf, waiting for eager fingers to flip through the huge book. And with the speed of a NASCAR driver, I ended the Harry Potter journey on the day after Christmas. Harry, I gave you a fitting Christmas present — my time, energy and imagination. But I got a gift as well, six months full of entertainment.
lll
But I do have questions, Harry. Why can’t there be a book eight? As an avid reader, I hate the end of a good book. I want to make the ending stretch, which is why I took my time on Christmas, savoring each page, knowing only a few precious chapters remained in your fictional life. On the day after Christmas, in the glow of the twilight, I closed your last book and said “Now what?” The next Harry Potter movie is still a year away and part II of the “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” movie is not even in production. By the way, did you know they are making a theme park based on your adventures, boy wizard? Your readers can drink butterbeer and pumpkin juice, without fear of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named also known as the evil wizard.
lll
I do confess; I am going to miss you, Harry. You shared all your secrets with me — including middle school crushes, secret dreams and powerful thoughts. Yet, I have not shared any secrets with you. I shall tell you one thing — a tiny detail about this reader. Books are my escape. Harry, during the last six months, there have been good days and bad days, snow storms and the flu. But you — an imaginary character — carried me beyond reality, into a world of make believe. Thank you, Harry, for sharing your friends, family and wand to teach a stubborn book snob the magic of children’s books. But perhaps, I should be thanking your creator J.K. Rowlings who found a way to entertain not only children, but adults as well. But now I need another reading challenge. Any suggestions, boy wizard?
Jamie Parsell is the Lifestyle editor of the Daily Telegraph. Contact her at jparsell@bdtonline.com.
