Born and raised in South Jersey, Elizabeth relocated to Los Angeles to follow a love of storytelling. She earned her B.A. in Public Relations and her M.A. in Writing from Rowan University. She has previously worked as a Project Editor, a Staff Writer, and an Associate Editor at different publishers and publications. When not working, Elizabeth trains Muay Thai, works on her own writing, watches movies, and spends quality time with her fourteen-year-old dog Toby.
As the Story Terrace Project Editor, Elizabeth enjoys bringing stories to life.
A Little Bit of Magic
Growing up while the Harry Potter books were being published was a tough life. I’d stay up all night after getting the newest book so I could devour the next bit of story. Then once those few hours were over, I had to wait at least a year, if not more, for the next installment of Harry and Co. Sure, there were fansites online speculating where the story was headed, and you could always write your own fanfiction (which I of course did), but nothing replaced the excitement of a new Harry Potter book about to be released.
In July 2005, The Half-Blood Prince was due for release and I was finally old enough to go to Barnes and Noble for the midnight release and Harry Potter Party. This was the biggest moment of my life. Sitting in a bookstore filled with all things Harry Potter and people just like me who couldn’t get enough.
Then my parents broke the news that we’d be going down the shore for family vacation so I wouldn’t get to go to the Harry Potter Party or midnight release. Normally, going to the shore with my family was something to be excited about, but this time it meant I’d miss out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. More importantly, it meant I wouldn’t get the book immediately and back then if you didn’t get the books at midnight release you weren’t getting one for a couple of weeks.
I was devastated. I’d be behind everyone else. Someone would ruin the story for me before I got there. I was inconsolable.
Down the shore we went. I whined and was generally unpleasant as any teenage girl can be. And that night I went to sleep thinking all about the amazing party I was missing.
The next morning I got up like I always did around 7:00 a.m. and found my dad in the kitchen with coffees and Entemann’s chocolate-covered donuts. It was our shore tradition; he’d go out early to get a paper, coffee, and donuts for everyone.
But my wonderful dad had made one more stop. Somewhere down the shore he found a bookstore and somehow they just happened to have a copy of the newest Harry Potter book, which he brought home to me. He tossed it to me and continued drinking his coffee.
I’d never been so happy. I spent the whole day reading it before passing it off to my sister for her turn to read it. And while I never did make it to the party, I look back on that memory of my dad getting me the book and think it’s a way better memory.
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