Sunday, June 27, 2010

The King, Part II

I previously wrote about my first experience reading Stephen King, which was horrible. Cujo was not frightening, in the least. As a result, I became condescending towards those I caught reading his work.

My first experience reading Stephen King occurred the summer between fifth and sixth grade. Once I had read my first Stephen King, the snowball effect occurred. At garage sales, when I spotted a Stephen King book, I asked my mother if I could read it, more to push the envelope than out of interest for reading his work. Despite my predisposition for becoming frightened, my mother became increasingly lenient, and tended to say "yes."

So even though I didn't think highly of King's writing, it was available to me, and at times, was the only material available to me.

Thus, a combination of boredom and ready availability resulted in my reading more Stephen King books, such as:

Christine, a book about a car that possesses and destroys people.



Thinner, a tale about this asshole who pisses off a gypsy and is cursed to waste away:



Then, one winter when I was in high school, my entire family got sick -- except for my father, who hardly ever becomes ill. One by one, my siblings and mother became ill and ran for the bathroom so that they could retch into the toilet. (Coincidentally, this was the last year that my family ordered a ham for the annual Christmas dinner.)

I went to bed still feeling relatively healthy. I awoke from my slumber in the middle of the night, made my first of several trips into the bathroom, and spent the majority of the evening attempting, and failing, to find a comfortable resting position.

Whilst huddled miserably in my bed, I read one of Stephen King's great novels: Misery. His novel about a writer who is trapped with his "Number One Fan."



I adored this book - reading it is my happiest memory of that particular Christmas, despite the fact that my stomach and head ached.

Misery convinced me that Stephen King occasionally wrote well... I could understand why some people read Stephen King. Occasionally, at least, works that were very enjoyable were created by The King.

I wasn't as much of a snob, anymore.

Preview: My next post about Stephen King will also discuss Shakespeare...

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