Just got the word that the seventh and final Harry Potter ("HP," to those in the know) book may involve the death of my daughter's favorite book character. That's HP himself, of course, the misfit genius and fatherless waif. She knows every detail of every book, and can almost quote chapters verbatim. I'm not kidding.
I wonder if there'll be a mass depression among tweens? Grief-stricken forays into impulsive relationships with Lemony Snicket, or Bruce Coville, or Philip Pullman?
Yikes! And we have only just now been able to not weep daily at the demise of our kitty Taz. I better line up the therapist now. (Ms. Rowling, can I send you the bill?)