July 2005
Harry Potter and the Asheville Wolf Pack!
Okay, so, when I was living in L.A. and still refusing to read books
(lingering side effects from getting a master's degree in English and
feeling that I had read enough books for the REST OF MY LIFE), my pal
Kaye, a children's lit teacher at VaTech, told me about this great
children's book that was popular in England about an orphan boy, living
with his
miserable aunt and uncle, who one day discovers he's actually a wizard
and it's time for him to go to wizard school.
Okay, I'll read THAT.
So I read the first three books of the series once
they'd made it over Stateside, and,
after returning home to Atlanta, wasted no time preordering book
4 (Harry Potter and Goblet of Fire).
I got up extra early that Saturday to see the English Halloweeny wizard
breakfasts and parties that the bookstores were having -- Border's was
a bit of a disappointment, but the Hobbit Hall children's bookstore
down the street was BRILLIANT! They had covered the doorway to
the backyard with a mural of bricks marked Platform 9 and Platform 10,
with a slit in the middle that the children leapt through, disappearing
to the fun zone I wasn't allowed to see (Hogwarts students only).
I was thrilled.
When book 5 (Harry
Potter and the Order of the Phoenix) came out, I was in
Blacksburg visiting
aforementioned Kaye, who said she found us a midnight release party at
Border's. After being spoiled with the independent children's
bookstore, I was doubtful about the major chain (and Border's to boot),
but we got there and it was excellent -- filled with employees and
children in costume (a tall Dumbledore strode through at one point, and
you had to step back because he was very impressive). They'd
shoved Harry Potter glasses and trivia questions in our hands and
directed us to different areas of the store to get the questions (which
were HARD -- one little kid rolled his eyes and said, "Hungarian
Horntail!" like DUH! and Kaye, having taught the books at Tech, was
more embarrassed than me, if that was possible). They also had a
wand-making section (where the kids could choose the center of their
wand -- in this case, which color pipe cleaner -- and put it in the
drinking
straw), among lots of other games. The coffee shop was serving
their version of butterbeer, hot or cold -- it was a milky cream drink
with a shot of butterscotch flavoring in it and uggghhh... three sips
and you were done.
Midnight came around, and even though we wouldn't be
allowed to buy a book (all of their cases were of preordered books --
they didn't get the extras they were hoping for), we wanted to stay and
watch the first kids get their book (and heck, see the thing). So
they had lines and lines that stretched to the back of the store and
around, and when the first kid ran to the door, clutching the bag to
him, we shouted "Let us see!" and he, like Charlie pulling out the
Golden Wonka Ticket, shyly but with excitement he could barely contain,
held up the sapphire-covered
prize. We all ooooo'ed, and he ran away. I turned to Kaye
and said, "I want one." She said, "I do, too." So we hit an
all-night store on the way home and each picked up a copy (cheap and
only five people in line). Then, of course, we fought having to
ignore each other for the rest of the visit while we were secretly
sneaking peeks at the pages, and I didn't get to kick back and read it
until I'd driven back to Atlanta.
Book 6 (Harry
Potter and the Half-Blood Prince) wasn't going to be less an
event -- I figured
I'd swing by the Borders near my house for their midnight party, pick
up my copy at a 24-hour non-bookstore (they didn't have lines), and
spend the entire weekend in seclusion reading. Except I had a
writers' meeting that Saturday... that I was seriously considering
blowing off to read... or... oh, I didn't know. And then I got a
note from pal Allan telling me (with actual notice -- something he
didn't usually do) that his band, The Dead Poets, would be playing in
Asheville that Thursday night. Since I'd been dying to see The
Dead Poets in concert and this seemed like a perfect opportunity, I
sent him and his wife pal Ginger an email asking if I could crash at
their place that evening. Ginger wrote back with a yes, and
invited me to stay over the next night as well for the Harry Potter
party at their little bookstore around the corner. I was still
struggling about the writers' meeting and wanting to read the book
without a long drive back home prior to it, and then finally admitted
oh who am I kidding? A Harry Potter party with THEIR kids?
I'm so there.
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