It’s happening. After 10 years of holding out, I am finally succumbing to J. K. Rowling’s wildly popular novels.

Since the series captured the heart of America, many of my friends have expressed serious concerns over my lack of interest. It was as if all of my friends were Southern Baptists, and I had just taken up drinking and gambling. Finally, one of my good friends, in an attempt to convert me, gave me her copy to borrow. “Once you start this one,” she said, “you’ll just have to read the rest. You’ll want to! I promise!” Halfway through the novel, I can’t say that she’s right.