I finally finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Book 7) this evening. It was good, way good. A vast improvement in writing and editing over the drudgery of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Book 5). I can see this book will be the movie to end movies – it really seems just begging for the matinée crowd who’ll just lap up yaying the goodies, booing the baddies (and those eeuuw kissy kissy scenes). An action packed romp that left me, for once, wanting more.
I realised later that J.K. Rowling is one of the few fiction authors I’ve read more than five of their books – she joins a select group that includes (in no particular order) Alexander Mccall Smith, Joanne Harris, Douglas Adams, H.G. Wells, Ursula Le Guin, Richard Bach, Stephen R. Donaldson, Terry Pratchett, William Gibson, and John Wyndham. I guess that must make her one of my favorite authors, but I wouldn’t ever have said/thought that. And none of them New Zealand authors. Speaks volumes about me and about the state of publishing/writing here. Perhaps kiwis don’t write in the genres I like – they probably do, but, I’m not a big fiction reader at the best of times.