So, five months after my special Saturday delivery of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in its special branded box by a mailman with a smile that implied that he had spent the whole morning delivering a truckful of Harry Potters to gleefully trilling people like myself, I finally picked it up to read it, day before yesterday.
I have done almost nothing but read it since then. Don't tell Ruth, but I barely checked my email. I read all 758 pages in a bit of a marathon--about 16 hours over the course of three days--two, really, because I started it just before bed on Tuesday night.
OMG it was so fabulous. It was satisfying and scary and thrilling and I was one step ahead of it but then wham it was one step ahead of me, and Harry was a tortured soul and then a despairing adolescent, and then a hero, of course, a hero!
I have to say, though, the epilogue was extraneous and unnecessary.
So that was a thrill ride that I won't reveal too much of, and that's one of the three books in my PLR down. Exodus is in my bag and will be my other big thing; I need to figure out what book 3 will be.
Oh Harry! I swoon!
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