Unfinished

Not too many years ago, I would have been laughed out of publishers' offices for suggesting that a children's book could sell. Then came the incomparable Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling started a frantic scramble by agents to search for books about magical anything. At that point, there would still have been gleeful hysterics had I traipsed into a publisher's office with a book about vampires running amok in Washington state forests. Except that the young people who made Harry, Hermione, and Ron single monikers on par with Madonna and Cher, have grown up. Enter Bella, Edward, and Jacob. (For the record? Team Edward.) There are now whole tables of magic and vampire books at the local booksellers' shop. It amuses me to sit imagining what utterly improbable settings and fantastic characters will next grab the popular interest.

The single greatest factor affecting my enjoyment of these youth series? That each one has a nice, neatly packaged ending. Having spent years reading The Wheel of Time fantasy series by Robert Jordan who claimed there would be a dozen books needed to tell his story, an end is a real priority. He halted at book 11 to write a prequel. Then he did something truly incomprehensible. He. died. with. the. final. book. unfinished.

A young author (who hopefully has no imminent mortality looming) was found to take up the torch, and complete Mr. Jordan's unfinished epic. Although not entirely won over by this solution, I resolved to read book 12 until a fellow obsessive fan reader revealed that the massive volume on the bookstore shelf was not the last book in the series. There will now be 14 books because of the sheer volume of notes left by the departed. Because he was too busy scribbling his notes and revealing back story to get on with telling the tale he began spinning out.