An Open Letter to Everyone Who's Written a Negative Review of Harry Potter World

Dear Sad, Sad Soul,

Yeah, you in the corner with your stack of Twilight movies and Katniss paraphernalia, I'm talkin' to you. I've likely stumbled across your blog in an attempt to plan my honeymoon trip. Instead of providing useful tips, however, your blog offers nothing more than the whiny, misinformed ramblings of someone who shouldn't be allowed to be in the same room as a Harry Potter book, much less visit an entire world dedicated to him.

You sit up there on your mighty blogger throne and call my dream park "lame?" Who the heck do you think you are?

Do you know the first and last names of all of the Hogwarts professors? (I do.)

Do you know more spells than you do state capitols? (I do.)

Do you know the history behind wand lore? what each of the woods and cores means? (I do.)

Can you name all of the founders? the Order? the horcruxes? (I can.)

Have you sat up, at 3 am, clutching a book to your chest and sobbing because your favorite author just killed another one of your beloved characters? Have you? HAVE YOU?

Didn't think so.

If you'd read the books - yes, books. You know - those heavy things with pages and words that you use to make your shelves look fancy? If you'd read them, you'd understand the magic that each contains. The beauty in the way the characters lives intertwine and meld. The ability of Jo's words to transport you to a world entirely real and entirely fantastical all at the same time.

If you'd read the books, you'd long for the chance to stand in the "impossibly slow" line outside of Ollivander's in order to watch the "silly show" where a wand chooses a wizard.

You'd revel in the fact that the lines to ride the Forbidden Journey are "too long" because it gives you a chance to spend time inside a castle you've only seen in your mind (or on screen).

You'd watch in awe as tiny robed children wielding wands ran through the streets shouting in Latin (not scowl at them for being in your way.)

You'd marvel at the moving bludgers and hopping chocolate frogs in the shop windows (not poke holes in all the glitches you see.)

You'd jump at the chance to eat at the Three Broomsticks and enjoy a glass of butterbeer (not scoff at the $9.99 price point.)

You'd be enchanted - if you were a true Harry fan. Because true Harry fans believe in magic. And they know that magic isn't always seamless, it isn't always perfect, and it isn't always fancy.

Sometimes is messy, sometimes it's unreliable, and many times, it's found in the little, simple things (not the big, amazing ones.)

So you, over there, thinking you're better than my park - I pity you. You're missing out on something incredible. But go ahead. Enjoy your apathy, your ennui, your skepticism. Enjoy your heart that is so "mature" and "grown up"...that it can't remember what true joy feels like.

And while you're enjoying it, stay the heck out of our park.

It makes the lines shorter for the rest of us.