When Does The Next Harry Potter Come Out?

I’m in an entertainment funk. Last night the only television show I watch, Battlestar Galactica, had its finale, and I finished the book I was reading, Hunger Games, this morning. I’m not into any other TV because it’s all crap. It’s hard to find Reaper, and every other show on right now has jumped the shark. I can’t bring myself to watch any of the new episodes of the CBS crime dramas, new cast members or not. I actually prefer watching reruns on ION and A&E. I would read but it’s hard for me to get into a book. A fiction writer has about forty pages to pique my interest before I give up. I’m not going to force myself through a book just because other people like reading more than I do. I’ve tried to read Bradbury, Tolkien, and Vonnegut. I’ve tried reading the classics. They’re all boring. Give me some poorly written Dan Brown any day. I’m not suggesting that Dan Brown is a good writer, but at least he gets on with it. My favorite writer, Carl Hiaasen wrote a children’s book this year, and I just don’t get into them the same way I do his stuff written for adults. Reality TV has stabbed formally scripted TV in the liver, and now we’re watching scripted TV die a slow, painful, inevitable death. There is absolutely no reason to produce a well written television program. It’s cheaper and quicker to get people to sell their dignity on camera. With Battlestar Galactica retiring, the only show I’d cross the street to watch is The Closer, and they’re always on hiatus. I’m stuck reading non-fiction. I’m reading about the human Diasporas out of prehistoric Africa. I’m also reading about medieval Christianity – what a bunch of freaks. I’m bored out of my mind. Maybe I’ll feel better when I can get back to the gym regularly. This all might be from a lack of endorphins.