I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows today. I probably should have taken it a bit slower, I'm already a little fuzzy on a couple parts, but since when have I been able to resist something as addictive as a new Harry Potter book, or Krispy Kreme donuts for that matter? They both must be consumed immediately and entirely, not just left to lie around the house.
I sure liked it; it was satisfying for the fan in me and surprisingly satisfying for the critic in me. Usually I can complain about Rowling's writing, sometimes so obvious and dialogue sometimes so lame. But if you laid the first HP book and this HP book side by side, or even read a page from each at random, you can see how much sharper this last book is. Some of the passages on death are so poignant, it's really very touching. I'm looking forward to reading it again, when I will retain more. Give me a couple years or so and I will probably pull them all out for a complete re-read.
That said, between gulping down Harry Potter and feasting on The Wire, I feel like whole days and nights have passed without anything really happening to ME, but to all my fictional friends. How was Harry going to figure out the Hallows AND the Horcruxes??? Why did Kima have to be shot in that ridiculous buy/bust??? It is vacation and all, and our lives are definitely about to change sooner rather than later with Lily's arrival, so it's nice to tune out and enjoy the various entertainment medias, but for now I am pulling myself out of the books and the boob tube to report my personal opinions and it has been pleasantly self-actualizing.