The truth will out: I am as much a Harry Potter addict as most 12 year olds. Last weekend, when I got my reserved copy from the library (I was #371 in the queue), I was in ecstasy. I took it with me on my road trip to Houston. Yes, Houston in August. There are not enough hair products in the world to make one look good in Houston in August. No matter.
Anyway, I read a couple hundred pages on the way down, and finished it off on the way home. I think I have eyestrain. That said, I loved it, although it is definitely a much darker book than its predecessors.
And this is yet another key concept that explains why I am changing careers: instead of spending the last three days communing with golfers, slightly inebriated bankers and government officials, I snuck back to my hotel room periodically to read "Harry Potter," and to memorize poetry by Paul Verlaine.
You're in good company!
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