Dorienne's Log

I’ve just now finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, almost exactly 48 hours after getting it from the very same Barnes and Noble where I purchased Order of the Phoenix a month and four years ago. I think I should be feeling like something truly significant has happened in my life, having completed the entire series, yet I feel more or less, like I do after reading any other book. It was a good read, though I found some errors: they misspelled Hermione’s middle name and there was a randomly capitalized word somewhere in the later chapters. The ending and epilogue did come across as a bit trite, but I liked it, though I’m not sure if I liked it more because the whole thing was over, than enjoying the writing in general. I think I am just satisfied having the plot revealed to me as I read instead of learning about the ending from television or the internet or from some miscreant shouting out the ending to me.

What got me writing however, was not the subject of Harry, but something fascinating that I realized about myself over these past 48 hours: in just two years, I’ve become an utterly different person. It’s astounding really, that I could still be me, yet so different at the same time. Two years ago, Harry Potter was my world and I spent many hours of my day, devoted to something Potteresque whether I was commenting on Potter forums or simply reading the books. I was always doing something relating to Harry Potter. Book 6 changed this. I was so frustrated by what I read that at one point I actually threw the book across the room. Many, and I do mean many, of those same frustrations came about in Book 7, however, there was no anger, real anger associated with them. I just sort of rolled my eyes and kept on reading. I give all this change to Jesus. As an obsessive-compulsive, I had placed so much “faith” in Ms. Rowling’s abilities that, had I remained so OCD over HP as I was two years ago, at this point, I would be ready to collapse, having nothing to ease me from my compulsions. I would be sitting here like, “well, now what do I do.” God, knows me, and knows when it’s time to move me along from one thing to another. Now, more or less, it’s all on him.

I made a decision today that showed just how much I had changed. Actually, I’ve made several this weekend, but today’s was the most…beneficial, I suppose. There was a four o’clock service today at church and I had a choice: I could either go, the way my heart was telling me I should, or I could just go home and read Book 7 all day. I went back to church and I made the right decision. I’m glad I did too, but I’m still just so amazed by how different I’ve become. The obsession is over and I, for the first time in my life, feel like a young adult instead of an overgrown adolescent.

…she’s forever wrong about Ron and Hermione though…

Piggy-backing off of my YouTube milestone, I’ve hit a far more important one; two actually. This Tuesday past, I wrote my first 100,000 words in my novel Flight. Always the obsessive-compulsive writer, I actually narrowed down the 100,000th word…it was “felt” :). The second writing milestone was writing 200 pages worth of text. While the page count isn’t all that important because depending on how paragraphs flow and much of one page is simple dialogue, the hundred-thousand words most definitely is. Having no idea how big a book any word count would be, I compare everything to JK Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix as it is the only book that, for some reason, I’ve remembered its word count. OOTP is about 225,000 and the book is about 900 pages in the US, so I figure that I’ve written about nearly 400 pages, if Flight was ever a published novel. The idea of it just makes me laugh because I’m 400 pages into it and I’m only about a third of the way through the book. I know this thing is just going to be a beast.

The length of this book has got me thinking, though. I may end up being one of those Stephen King-ish, long-winded writers since the notes themselves for the novels are getting longer and longer. I guess I just have a lot to say, but I’m excited overall to see what others have to think about this, my first novel. My dream is that years from now, when I look back on my work, I’ll think to myself, “All the Newberrys notwithstanding, Flight was my first novel and therefore, will always be thought of as my greatest work.”