August already? Whoosh! That’s what happens when you spend your summer at CAMP! That’s me, "Drama Mama," with some of my amazing staff (left photo), and (right) getting an ice cream sundae on my head last summer. (Haven’t downloaded this year’s photos yet!) This summer we told all our theater students at Sugarloaf Fine Arts Camp NOT TO TELL US what happens to Harry. And–dare I admit this Muggle scandal?–I still haven’t had time to stop by my favorite indie to buy the book. (GASP! I can hear your curses now: RIDICULOSO !!!!)
As an author, I can’t even begin to imagine how Ms. Rowling must feel to have her books and characters take on such active lives of their own. Did I say Lives? Heck–more like complete universe! It’s mind boggling. No one has asked to make a theme park of Little Bo Peep Can’t Get To Sleep yet–not that I aspire to that kind of fan base…(And this is not reverse-jealousy-psychology talking. The woman deserves a theme park. Totally.). Nor have my teenage daughter and her friends made their own Goldie Locks Has Chicken Pox t-shirts to wear at the midnight showing of the latest Goldie Locks film… I’m o.k. with that.
Days before Harry-Time (Hey, if it’s a universe, it no doubt has its own time zone) I was at Kepler’s in Menlo Park CA for a great Storytime (Thank you Angela and Kepler’s staff for holding off Hogwartsing the store until after everyone had made their sheep craft and left with signed Bo Peeps and Goldies. YOU ROCK! ), and I realized Storytime is my universe. Seriously. I count my blessings for every opportunity to enjoy a fleeting rock-star status with 7-year-olds but still lead a normal life doing school visits without the Daily Mirror following my bad-hair days (of which I assure you I have plenty) and wondering if I’ll ever have another best-seller. (Come on, guys–leave the woman alone! So what if she never writes a grocery list again after all-things-Harry. That’s like asking the Queen if she’ll ever build another castle.)
As for me, it’s time to do something about the piles of camp laundry extending out of the laundry room and down the hall. (Perhaps there’s a spell to get it all done at once?) And then it’s back to PBIC and to the book store for Harry.