I can still picture the bookstore. The kind you don't see so much anymore. Someone with thoughtful and discerning tastes stocked it with a wide selection of books so that even though it was small and local, there was always something to intrigue me. I was six months pregnant with my firstborn, and while shopping invariably found myself scanning the kids shelves thinking about the wonderful world of books my children would have. I must have passed over Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone a hundred times without a glance when suddenly the world around me went haywire. Harry Potter was being made into a movie. Everywhere people were talking about Harry Potter and I distinctly remember having two cohesive thoughts:
- That Harry Potter sounded like a stupid name for a kid's hero; and
- That if the books were this important (because even then it was obvious they were achieving market saturation) then I had better read them to stay informed for my kids. Yeah, that kid still firmly in utero.
I wasn't one of those lining up to buy the books at midight as they came out, but I certainly wasn't waiting for the paperback either.
And so my love affair for Harry Potter novels began.
(to be continued)