I have a date with Harry this weekend.

Not that Harry.

THIS Harry:

I abandoned the Science Fiction/Fantasy genre a long time ago because the writing simply got bad. Plots were okay, but oh-my-god did everyone forget how to write dialogue? And, um, character development? The genre was simply suffering from Romance Novel Syndrome – it got popular enough that people would consume dreck just to fuel the addiction.

My exodus was also fueled by my discovery of mystery writing at a time when hands-down some of the most skillful writing was taking place (Deaver is the bomb). Add my love affair with Patrick O’Brian, who had the audacity to die of old age and leave me breathless and hanging in the middle of book 21 of the Master and Commander series. Patrick O’ Brian was one of the few serial authors who kept me interested past book three, but Butcher is proving to be another. He just keeps getting better and better with practice. And I hope he keeps practicing, because so very few men keep me breathless nowadays. Harry Dresden is one.

Jim Butcher’s Dresden books are at the fringe of mystery, but are firmly in the Fantasy arena, and he has enticed me back by introducing me to Harry. So this weekend I will be looking with sweet anticipation for that little brown box with Amazon smile to arrive at my doorstep.

Don’t keep me waiting.