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Letter to J.K. Rowling

Dear Ms. Rowling


The critics all say that you wrote a book that was cliche. They all state that you lack literary prose, that your style of writing is far from original. All of that may or may not be, I have not the expertise to tell. However, I know one thing. I have walked with Harry since his conception. I was with him when Professor Quarrel took off that turban, turned around, and presented Voldemort's face. I was with Harry when he killed the basilisk; I saw the relationship between Ginny and he begin. I felt Harry's dismay when Buckbeak's execution was ordered, and I felt his joy when he found out that he had not a father, but a godfather. Yes, I too looked up to Sirius Black. I competed with Harry during the Triwizard Tournament, and despite the unkind comments of a certain Skeeter, I never lost faith in him. I saw Cedric Digory fall, I saw Harry face down Voldemort, and win, if only a battle and not the war. Despite Hermionie's warnings, I too fell head over heels in love with Cho Chang. I founded Dumbledore's Army, I dared to defy Dolores Umbridge and the Ministry. I saw the same vision that Harry did, the vision of his godfather in need of help. I flew with Harry to the ministry, and I fought the Death Eaters as hard as anyone in the D.A. I fell in love with Ginny, and I felt Harry's jealousy for her. I helped Dumbledore choke down the potion and find the locket, all for naught. I saw the Dark Mark over the Astronomy Tower, and I too rushed to defend my school and my friends. I saw Dumbledore fall off of the tower, and I went to his funeral, where I told Ginny we couldn't stay together. I traveled the world with Ron and Hermionie, looking for the Horocruxes that bound Voldemort to Earth, and I finished him once and for all. I stood on platform Nine and Three Quarters and waved the kids goodbye. No, you may not be the greatest writer in history, nor may you be even the greatest writer in the last hundred years. However, I can tell you one thing. I have a copy of every single Harry Potter book. The spines are ruined from heavy use. The corners of pages have been turned down over and over, and there are smudge marks where food has marred the books' pages because I couldn't put them down long enough to eat. The paper is wrinkled in each and every spot where my tears have fallen, and I swear my footprints should be on each and every page because I have walked beside Harry time and time again. Harry Potter is my lifelong companion, his friends my friends, his enemies my enemies. I have learned about life through the words on those pages, and I refer to them frequently. Ms. Rowling, you may not be the best, and you are surely not the worst, but I have one thing to say. You are the only writer I have ever seen who can so intertwine my life in books. You are the only writer that has made the unreal real. In fact, you did not make Harry Potter reality. He was already there, you merely introduced me to him. Thank you.



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