I feel fairly confident that someone has already said something very much like the following, and probably said it much more poetically and brilliantly to boot. But I can't remember who, or where they said it, or even if this is real and not just a figment of my overactive imagination (leaving aside, for the moment, of whether or not I actually exist instead of being a disembodied brain in a jar being subjected to the universe's grandest sim-stim program or a Buddhist monk dreaming he's a scruffy-looking data clerk or what have you).
It breaks down like this:
There's two elements to writing. Viz, the Easy Part and the Hard Part.
First, you need to find Something that you think is really, really, really awesomely cool and fun and interesting and bad-ass, something that sets you ablaze with excitement, and then write about it.
This is the Easy Part.
Second, you need to make your readers see that Something as being as cool and fun and interesting and bad-ass as you see it.
This is the Hard Part. Because it means that you need to, to some degree, drag a reader into your own skull, let the reader think your thoughts, have the reader look through your eyes.
Which is not as easy as you might think. (...if you think about it, this is kind of like... having your reader make-believe s/he's you, to a certain extent, right?)
(The good thing about seeing writing like this, though, is that it works really well for both fiction and non-fiction purposes. Because if a writer does the Hard Part really well, s/he can make something that looks so incredibly boring at first glance into a book that you'll read over and over and over again and love every time. And on the flip side, if a writer critically fails the Hard Part, s/he can make one of your deepest-loved things to read about into something you'll NEVER want to hear about again.)
And! While we're on the subject of writing, I'd like to address the Potter fans.
Not "hocux lol."
Yes, it's just English, true. It's true that it's the language that's infamous for following other languages into dark alleys, clubbing them over the head, and rifling through their pockets and making off with anything that looks good. But it's still my beloved language and YOU BEST RECOGNIZE, FOOL.