We all have our guilty secrets, the torrid romances hidden under the bed, the daydreams about Gerard Butler, our special super hero power and what really happens in the remote island in our heads. Mine is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden and as much as I don’t want to read the next book in the series, I always do.
My relationship with Harry is one of love/hate, I love his descriptions of magic but often hate the manner it is utilised in the stories. I love the character yet he frequently annoys the crap out of me. The same goes for his creator, sometimes his prose is urban poetry and I think–a perfect description, others I wonder if he was writing with one hand on the TV remote. I have to admit the love/hate I have for Harry and his creator keeps me coming back and that–despite the issues–is what makes a good series.
I used to think a good series was one that kept readers coming back, as if hooked on a drug but that is only part of the truth. A good series provokes response, even if you want to smack the author in the gob for his choices. Why? Because you are invested in his character. I might not like where the adventure takes me and yes—sometimes Harry acts like a whiny bitch—but I do love him.
So instead of working I’m going to indulge in my own bit of naughty and reach under the bed to allow myself to be driven crazy by a character I’m not entirely sure I like but sucks me back in every time.