Okay, here goes. I’ve never read a single word of any Harry Potter book. I know, I know. You would think an aspiring novelist would at least take a peek at the best selling series of all time, but I haven’t. I honestly can’t tell you why. It’s not that I don’t like the fantasy genre. I cut my teeth on it. The first series I remember reading was the Shannara books by Terry Brooks. I’ve also read the Thomas Covenant series, the Xanth series, everything every written by David Eddings, and so on, and so forth. So, it’s not that I don’t like the genre. That much, I’m sure of.

So, I have no idea why I’ve never embraced the boy wizard. Oh, did I mention I’ve never seen one second of any of the movies either. I haven’t. That’s the honest truth. I’m not wearing it like some non-conformist badge of honor either. Really, I’m not. I’m not some elitist that sits back and says, “The swill that the commoners will consume these days absolutely astonishes me. Now pass the caviar, Buffy.” That’s not me. Not by a long shot. It’s just something I can’t explain.

So, here’s my deal. I would like someone…anyone…to explain to me in fifty words or less why I should care. That’s all. It seems pretty simple. Why should I pick up the book? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?

If you haven’t seen Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, shame on you. Then again, maybe you’re saying shame on me for not caring about Harry Potter. So someone try to make me care. I dare you.