In June of 1997 I had just graduated from high school, and was preparing to start college in the fall. Meanwhile, across the pond in the good 'ol U. of K., a little book by the name of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was being published by Bloomsbury.
For nearly ten years now I've encountered Master Potter everywhere I've turned. Everything from fiery, anti-Potter sermons to college friends completely absorbed in the tales and raving about them with child-like glee. I've bumped into Harry everywhere except my own library.
This July, a decade and a month since the release of book one, the seventh and final Harry Potter novel hits shelves. Harry turns 18 and hordes of salivating teens and 30-year-old pimpled men in capes are sure to descend on every bookstore in the world.
I hope to be one of them.
Thing #1: read all seven Harry Potter novels, and figure out what the hell I've been missing for 10 years.
I started today. (And already like Dumbledore a whole lot...)
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