I Open At The Close, Part 5: The Remains

"Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Honestly, going to see the final Harry Potter movie was not the intense emotional experience I expected and hoped it would be. It was enjoyable, yes, and I did cry a little (The Prince's Tale), but it didn't live up to the expectations set by the tweets of everyone who saw the advanced showing at Leaky Con. And that's fine, really. It's a movie, and it's a movie based off of one of the most emotionally-affecting books I've ever read.

McGonagall, however, was completely awesome.

I don't really feel any different, short of the fact that there isn't anything left to look forward to with unrivaled anticipation. That makes me sad, of course, but I don't feel as if I've lost anything.

Here's a quote from an article I read on NPR yesterday: ‎"If those kids keep buying all things Potter — books, movies, and whatever else they come up with — Harry could go from the 'Boy Who Lived' to the 'Boy Who Lived Forever.'" And he will.

I have a cousin who was born the week Deathly Hallows Part 1 hit theaters. I'll be able to experience the wonder of the series over again with him once he's old enough, as well as with my own eventual children, nieces/nephews, and so on. And my generation will keep Harry Potter as a shared memory-- and what's unique to us is the mixture of pain and joy that comes from waiting with bated breath for the next book to be published. No one else will ever be able to have that.

And that's what makes me saddest: not the fact that it's "over," because it's not, but that future generations won't be able to have what we have had. It's been such an enormous, all-affecting part of my life and the lives of many, many others. And I wish everyone could have that opportunity.

Of course, there will be other fantastic books and other fantastic series, and I will read them and love them. But Harry Potter is my first love, my greatest love, and my longest-lasting love (in terms of books, that is), and it will always hold the place of honor on my shelves, and in my life. 


It's hard not to make an ironic or self-mocking comment after a sappy conclusion like that, but I am being completely sincere.

I Open At The Close, Part 4: The Conclusion

“Bookaholics are the ones who start to feel uncomfortable and uneasy in another person’s house, and suddenly realize there are no bookshelves or magazines lying around. People who only own a telephone book and their high school yearbooks scare us.” - Robert Lee Hadden


While I'm still involved with the HP fandom, it isn't Life about Harry Potter anymore; it's Harry Potter about Life.


I'm choosing not to see Deathly Hallows Part 2 at midnight in favor of going the following evening with a friend. When I hear "In Which Draco and Harry Secretly Want To Make Out," I don't think of a hilarious slash-fic song; I think about memories. When I cried while finishing my most recent re-read of Deathly Hallows, it was less in reaction to the overwhelming emotion of the last 100 pages themselves and more out of nostalgia for the past decade of my life.

J.K. Rowling's novels taught me just how powerful writing can be. Her early struggles taught me that perseverance pays off, and that bad stuff doesn't last forever. Dumbledore taught me that the world is not divided into good people and Death Eaters, that the most powerful weapon we have is love, and what "gay" actually means.

And now as the final movie is about to come into theaters, I feel as if my childhood is ending. These books and this fandom have been, as you have come to see over the past three days,  such an integral part of my life in so many ways that if Ms. Rowling ever wanted to freeze me in carbonite, I would have to let her. Because there is no way I can ever repay what she has given me. (And come on, how cool would it be to be able to say "yeah, I was a statue of carbonite in JK FREAKING ROWLING'S HOUSE. Take that Han Solo." ?)

When I walk out of that theater tomorrow night, I will be a GROWN WOMAN.

(For those of you who don't know, that's a picture of Umbridge as portrayed A Very Potter Sequel.)

"Part 5: The Remains" probably coming on Saturday rather than tomorrow, as I have to wait until after I've seen the movie to write it.

I Open At The Close, Part 3: The Effects

"When people say Fruit Loops are just gay Cheerios, I tell them 'I always knew there was a reason I liked Fruit Loops better.'" - Anonymous

The funny thing about the joy associated with finding the community of Nerdfighteria is that I haven't made any close friends online in the two years since then. Sure, NotVeryCharming and I originally bonded over my "Nerdfighterlike" T-shirt (which I happen to be wearing as I type this, funnily enough), but  we had already met. What it really did is make me feel...hope for myself... even if my current situation was still generally miserable (middle school sucked for many reasons I won't go into).

I started writing stories around the same time that I started reading Harry Potter, and since HP was my first, biggest, and longest-lasting love, I wouldn't be surprised if they had something to do with each other. For the sake of the story, let's assume they did.

That July, I joined the teen writing club at my local independent bookstore, which is possibly the decision (or rather, my mom making me go) that has had the most influence on my life...ever. 

I would not have one and a half finished novels sitting on my flash drive.

I would not have received a check in the mail for that thing I still can't tell you guys about and I'm sorry because I honestly thought I'd be able to in March or so. I just got back in contact with the people involved and they don't know either because they're waiting on another component.

I would not be nearly so much of a well-rounded person as I am today.

I would not be writing this now. 

I would still be listening to wizard rock or something from DFTBA rather than having YouTube's Death Cab for Cutie playlist going in the background. (I realize that the vlogbrothers' original intro music was by Death Cab, but that's just an unfortunate coincidence, I promise- my friend recommended them to me.)

I would not have read 90% of the books in that list over to your right.

And of course, I would be bereft of all of the myriad of experiences I've had with the people I met through that club, as well as everything they have introduced me to. But you all know how much one person can change your life, much less many. 

Thank you, all of you, and perhaps it's stretching it to thank Harry Potter for causing all of that, but I really can't separate it anymore and it's nearly midnight as I'm writing this and I'm feeling nostalgic so I don't particularly care.

Ironically enough, all of that means that it was Harry Potter that indirectly dug me out of my fandom-hole, metaphorically shouted "Go live in the world!" and kicked me out the door.


I still dress up in my Hogwarts clothes and wear them to school as often as I can (we have three spirit weeks per year so it's usually pretty easy), and have pretty much mastered the art of contextually incorporating Harry Potter references into my schoolwork, so in some ways not much has changed.

However, a lot has changed since middle school. I now have far more than just one real life friend, a newfound self-confidence*, heaps of meaningful memories (even if I wish I could forget some of them), and...I could go on for paragraphs upon paragraphs, but honestly, I think 3 posts and counting on this subject is pushing it as it is. Bottom line: Harry Potter has affected my life in a huge enough way so that I can't separate it from anything else. It has made me who I am.

Story over, or rather to be continued over the course of the rest of this blog's life. Part 4: The Conclusion, tomorrow.

*Yes, self-confidence. Two or three of you are probably thinking "Hold on...she has self-confidence? What about all of those emails and chat messages crawling with self-doubt?" All I have to say about that is that time was I wouldn't have even told you those things, and that having the courage to live a fuller life gives you more reasons for doubt. Self-confidence gives you the courage to act, or to speak, even if you do feel completely terrified.

I Open At The Close, Part 2: The Fandom

"The fabric of existence weaves itself whole." - Charles Ives


Sometime during 7th grade (that would be 2007-2008), my dad had recently bought himself an iPod and discovered the wonder that is the podcast. He suggested I find some of my own to listen to regarding my interests, and suggested I look up Harry Potter. This lead me to Pottercast, which I ended up listening to for three years. Pottercast, in turn, lead me to The Leaky Cauldron and wizard rock. 


I had always known Harry Potter was popular, but realizing that there was an entire fandom of people who loved it just as much as I did was mind-blowing. The sheer shock of "there are people who write music about this and sing it at concerts" was enough to make me fall in love with the concept without regard to the actual quality of said music. (I guess it shows how much I've grown that I just skipped Sunday's concert without a second thought in favor of my sister's birthday party.)

Picture from last night's ConTour show

My first live concert was Tuesday, February 24, 2009 with The Blibbering Humdingers, Tonks and the Aurors, The Whomping Willows, and JFF. It was also my first (and second to last, as the store closed less than a week later) time at Camelot Treasures. I remember the evening ridiculously well. I mean, a song in which "Pottercast, Potter-Pottercast" is part of the chorus?


I wrote my first wrock song at my second live concert: February 28, 2009 at the same store, closing night. It wasn't so much of a concert as "circle of people holding instruments with a bunch of chocolate muffins in the middle," and most of the music was Ren-Faire type stuff rather than wizard rock. I believe I started teaching myself guitar the next day.


My most recent concert was last night, and it shows how much the community is changing that the majority of the music wasn't wizard rock. However, that's okay because it means all of us "wizard rock girls (who) are the prettiest girls in the whole wide world" got to enjoy the super-talented and attractive piano rocker Mike Lombardo (and yes, I took this picture solely to put on here just so I could use that caption).

While the episode of Pottercast featuring John and Hank Green aired on February 4th (yes, I just looked it up- God, even I'm not that obsessed), I didn't re-check out their videos and subscribe until June. While there are many, many Harry Potter fans who are not nerdfighters, the vast majority of nerdfighters are Harry Potter fans, so I include this as part of my Harry Potter experience-- especially since "Accio Deathly Hallows" is what kicked them into the YouTube mainstream in the first place.


That's what started my general online presence, although I only made a blog because I met rock4ever95 and thiefofwords in November and they had them and I thought they both seemed really cool and interesting. (Shut up, rock4ever95. Don't even start.)


I never really listened to any music at all before finding wrock, so it soon came to occupy pretty much my entire iTunes library other than a few podcasts. Yes, this is a bit sad. No, I don't regret it; I was happy. There was this whole community of people who were just like me. I, like many other budding nerdfighters, felt truly accepted for the first time by the majority rather than by only a few close friends (read: one close friend who had other friends I never really developed a relationship with despite liking them).


Part 3: The Effects coming tomorrow.


P.S. Aly, I met someone else at that show who recognized me from YouTube/here. What are the odds that there are TWO of you living close enough to randomly run into me at events? I am thoroughly shocked.

I Open At The Close, Part 1: The Books

“One cannot be deeply responsive to the world without being saddened very often.” - Erich Fromm


“A thought, even a possibility, can shatter and transform us.” - Friedrich Nietzsche


Allow me to tell you a story. I'm sorry that it's long, but the details mean a lot to me and I have yet to put them all in one place. This actually works out surprisingly well, though, considering that I have an aunt and a great aunt who started following this blog as a result of my vacation, presumably with the intention of getting to know me better. Assuming I don't scare them off. ;)


When I was five or six, my mom began reading a certain book to me. This was not terribly easy for her, since reading in the evening tends to put her to sleep, but I was the most nagging, perseverant five-or-six year old that it is possible to be and made sure we read at least a little bit every night we could. This book was, undoubtedly, my favorite book of all time. This book was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.


My mom continued to read the series to me until halfway through Prisoner of Azkaban when I decided we were going much too slow and decided to read it on my own. I still have the notebook in which I recorded the page numbers of the words I didn't know in order to look them up in the dictionary later. For my 7th birthday, I received a Harry Potter bedspread and pillowcase set, the former component of which I still use to this day.


Goblet of Fire was both my first audio book and the first book I stayed up far past my bedtime reading- it's harder to get caught when you don't need the lights on. Note that my first time through, I always assumed it was called the Triwizard Torture. (I read the paper copy for the first half, and I'd never seen the word "tournament" before.)


In second grade, because my school was not allowed to officially endorse the celebration of Halloween, they had "Favorite Book Character Day." Guess who I went as- Nimbus 2000 and all. That day was also the day on which we presented our book reports- in costume- to our class. Mine, rather than being a summary, was an 8-page drama complete with dialogue, voices, and everything else you could possibly want. My classmates were probably somewhat scared (I believe I shouted "KILL HIM!" rather loudly during the encounter with the Mirror of Erised). On the front of the assignment, my teacher wrote "Wow! Great enthusiasm!"

Somewhere during this time period, my mother hid my copies from me because I refused to read anything else. I found them within a day (yet consented to try out other books, since I obviously couldn't let her know I'd found them).


My dad did not go buy Order of the Phoenix for me at the midnight release party. I had to wait until Amazon delivered it later that afternoon. Monowizard Torture. This was the first book of more than two hundred pages that I read in less than 24 hours, stopping only when my mother insisted I eat or sleep. I was nearly 8 and about to enter 3rd grade.


Half Blood Prince was my first midnight release party. I dressed as Hermione, and won the contest in my category. The prize was a stuffed Crookshanks. My picture was in the paper (albeit with the most horrendously embarrassing expression on my face that I'm surprised anyone allowed it to be printed just for my sake). My mom was not in favor of her 9 year old daughter staying up past midnight just to get a book, so I was unhappily driven home at about 11. My dad, dressed as Lucius Malfoy and running one of the games, stayed behind on my behalf. Again, I read it in a day.

I was 11 the year Deathly Hallows was published. My best friend and I were at UNCG's Summer Music Camp. Between our four daily rehearsals and other scheduled activities, we rushed through a re-read of Half Blood Prince as fast as we could, one of us holding up a bunch of pages in the middle because I read faster than she does. By the time we got to Barnes and Noble after the concert and 1-2 hour drive home, all of the games and activities were over. My dad and I sat in the science fiction section and I read the newly-published 3rd Ranger's Apprentice book. As midnight came and went, we decided the line was far too long. We left the bookstore and drove to Kroger (a grocery store chain around here). The only people there were us buying two copies of what might be the most hotly-anticipated book of all time, an old lady buying fruit (at 1 in the morning?) and the cashier.


(Yes, I bought Deathly Hallows at Kroger. Deal with it.) I read chapter 1 on the way home, went to bed, finished it the next day with a ton of crying and sometimes simply staring at the pages in shock. Day 2: I finish Ranger's Apprentice and start Deathly Hallows again. Day 3: I re-finish Deathly Hallows and give it to my sister.


"Part 2: The Fandom" to be posted tomorrow.