i completed the harry potter series late last night. this weekend’s fullness of social activities caused me to take a break from book seven, effectively snapping my harry potter mood. but, as the last hundred or so pages of book seven came around, i found myself really quite sad. it’s always hard to say goodbye to a series, particularly one so excellent has harry potter. even this morning, i still feel immersed in the story, as if the characters haven’t quite left me yet. i want the story of what happened between book seven and the epilouge. i yearn for such things, clutching at my heart as if it might disappear.
it’s going to be hard to read anything next, as, no matter the quality, the book will pale in comparison. i feel the same about writing while reading harry potter – it encourages my creativity, yet nothing i write ever seems to come close to its soaring excellence.