One day back in college, my English professor sat on the table in front of the class. She rubbed her nose gently and huffed, “Read the Harry Potter series. It has just been turned into a movie but you got to read the books. I highly recommend it. It's so good.” She repeated the last sentence, stronger the second time around. “It's so good.”
I didn't read the books right away after her recommendation. It wasn't until the second film hit the theatres when, I found the first book in the house and, out of boredom, hastily read it. My sister had borrowed the first four books from our neighbor. With nothing interesting to do over the summer vacation, I thought why not read it. Little did I know I would not be able to put the book down. Page after page, chapter after chapter, and book after book, I had to keep going. My professor was right. It's so good. Just like the rest of the world, I fell in love with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series.
Now, I am not as in love with the Harry Potter series as I used to but its impact in my life can never be denied. The wizarding world had enamored and captivated me so much that it triggered old childhood memories when our family didn't have spare money to buy the expensive toys that I wanted. I had to make the most out of my cheap plastic action figures (that you could buy for a buck), trading cards, pens and notebooks, and even the plants and rocks in our front yard. I made my own fantasy world where I could play for hours with my imaginary friends and the lack of expensive X-Men action figures and VTech didn't matter. The Harry Potter series reminded me of that and my dream of becoming a writer was born.Read More