Let’s begin with the beginning. My love for books started quite late (around 11 years old) and quite slowly and the book that made me want to read is (no surprise there) Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Yet, even after that great book, I didn’t read that much; I only read occasionally, even though I read thee summers in a row the Harry Potter set, until I went to college. Sure, I enjoyed a great deal the books that I picked up or the ones that were assigned by the teachers (minus some exceptions) but I preferred spending my days outside with my friends than inside and alone.
At Uni, I started a degree in English and American studies which made me read a lot more with the Literature class. With a passion now vividly kindled and (let’s be honest) a lot more spare-time than in high-school, I started to buy, read and enjoy a lot more books than ever before. I’ve even re-read the Harry Potter books twice, in English this time (I’m French), and this opened up a new horizon for me: a whole new sets of books in another language; books that aren’t necessarily translated into French or that take too long to be translated. English has become a second nature and my favourite language to read books in. The, I completed a Master’s Degree in Literature which also combined my interest for history (and especially the Tudors).
Harry Potter will always have a favoured place on my bookshelf. It is, in fact, the most visible and exhibited shelf. Plus, I think it is needless to say that I know the films almost by heart, my working/reading playlist is mostly composed of the Harry Potter soundtracks and Stephen Fry’s voice fills my mp3 player, sweetly reading to me the adventures of my favourite characters.
All in all, Harry Potter and me is long love story which is never going to end. Ever.