It is rare when I have to eat my words. Not two posts ago, I railed Harry Potter and JK Rowling. But tonight, I gave in. I went out and saw the conclusion of this series. I loved it. In the end, I was wrong. I fully admit I was wrong. Harry Potter is not about death, it is ultimately about life, hope, perseverance. This series of books, this writer, I can only hope to emulate what she has done. I am just a piddly little writer. I write because I enjoy writing. I have ideas, thoughts, inspirations. Here I sit however, utterly stunned.
I have to admit, I cried like a little girl when certain main characters are killed. I cheered when villains got what they deserved, and I left the theater satisfied. Sure, the movie takes liberties with the book, they always do, but ultimately, the spirit of this series has been kept wonderfully in tact. This truly was a great revelation, not only to me, but to my writing. I work very hard at what I do. Its hard because I often don't see any ground gained. I have two followers, I doubt very much anyone really reads what I have to say. But I hold the same hope I believe is in those works of fiction that I can make something of myself.
This truly hit home towards the end. I will not spoil it, but there are allusions to the ghost train, a train which when boarded carries the dead to the other side. When I saw this, I had to congratulate Rowling. She's remarkable. I still don't want to read the books, I just can't get into them, but through these movies I've seen the work come alive, and I appreciate what she has contributed to literature. Maybe, someday, when and if I find myself in her situation, I can meet her and tell her how I felt tonight. Who knows, maybe she will read this, maybe not.
I have no illusions of that grandeur. No, star studded ideals that may come true. Chances are I'll be dead before any of my work sees fruition. But I like so many people, can take hope an inspiration from Harry Potter, a boy who truly lives within all of us.
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