My heat is out in my apartment, I have two—soon to be three— space heaters going, and I just found out that Harry Potter is only on HBO for one month.
It’s been a day.
I was searching for a story prompt to write, but I kept getting distracting watching HP3, so instead I’m going to write about the book series I didn’t realize had such a large impact on my life.
It’s Harry Potter, of course. Currently the icky aunt is ballooning up and the buttons of her blouse knocked Dudley out— a very good part.
The other day I was talking with a coworker about Harry Potter (she’s around my mom’s age, so different generation) and why I always perk up when something HP related is around.
So, I thought about it and well, it has literally been in my life since I was a child. I started the first book in elementary school, spent time waiting for the last books to come out, then the movies came out and each and every year until the summer before my freshman year of college I was excitedly waiting for the next Harry Potter.
Though, I will be the first to say that I desperately need to reread all the books, but I gotta buy them first, so it’s been put on hold. My older brother hoards all the books from our childhood.
Despite all of that, it’s just quite cool (lack of words coming on strong here) when I think about how this series has alway been in my life, how I bet many decisions and personality traits may have even developed from it without me even knowing.
I’m getting more and more excited to read the books again because I know I’ve forgotten so much of the story. Plus, I can actually appreciate how a story comes together now that I’m attempting my own.
I’m not sure that I’ve said really anything at this point, but it goes to show that somethings can’t be put into words.