Long ago I bought the complete hardcover box set of the Harry Potter series. I think it was at the time the seventh book was published. I hadn’t read much (if any) of the series at that time – maybe just the first book. I read the books one at a time, and I think it was in the fifth book that I thought this was getting to be a hard slog, and I was enjoying the series less. The books were getting bigger and bigger – and progressively worse, I thought. My opinion was that Rowling needed a better editor – or that her editor had backed away from doing criticism and editing as the series got to be more popular.

Anyway, being a Myers-Briggs “J,” I forced myself to get through the sixth and seventh books – because I needed closure and completion more than enjoyment. It turns out my daughter – back then not yet 30 – agreed with my assessment that the books got worse as the series stretched out. Anyway, once I finished with the series, I donated the hardcover book set to my local Friends of the Library, who could sell it to earn funds for our city library. I knew I would never read the series again. (I usually hang on to books I really like.)

And that was long before Rowling went all TERF on us. As a transwoman, I was very happy that I had unloaded my books years earlier. Good riddance.