I wonder if that word just popped right into the mind of Mr. King – pardon me, STEPHEN, do you mind if I call you Stephen? – when he was typing it up. It’s a wholly appropriate word to describe these horrible things he’s conjured up.
Most of this afternoon and evening have been spent getting lost in the deserts and beaches of Roland’s world. You know the one if you’ve read any of the Dark Tower books. Some weeks back, a box arrived at my office. My mother had shipped a care package to me containing things from my childhood: mostly books. Huge surprise.
One of those books was “Five Children And It”, something that delighted me to re-read in those days. I devoured it, remembering all the feelings from days gone by.
The thing (It) on the front cover is sort of what the lobstrosities of the Gunslinger’s world always remind me of.
Eyes on stalks. Dad-a-chum?
Someone once said that if you’ve ever read a Stephen King novel and said it didn’t scare you, at least a little, you were lying. I agree with that sentiment. He gets right to the inside of your head, opens the door and pulls out stuff you don’t ever want to consider. There are always weird little phrases that you’ll recall years down the road.
The scariest part of his books (or any well-written books) is that you get lost. In the box of books my mother shipped out were a handful of Stephen King novels that were also from my adolescence. You could find me with my nose buried in a book even then.
Mid-afternoon I picked up the first Dark Tower novel… and at 845 this evening I looked up from the halfway point of the second Dark Tower novel and didn’t know where I was for the briefest of moments. My phone’s Kindle app has the entire series and if it wasn’t for that pesky Work thing, I would re-read the full story in one sitting.
Not the book.
The story. The series.
I might randomly fall asleep or wander away to get a snack, but then I’d be right back. It would be clearly than the movies, it’s like the fourth wall breaks. I’ve read the series before (actually I’ve read all of Stephen King’s books before, many times), but get lost in them every time.
It’s that way for me with most books. You can talk to me to no avail; my body will be sitting there but that’s about all. This post is written in a haze because my back started to hurt and my body needed to stretch, but my mind is still next to Detta Walker, up on the hill with potentially live ammo, and wondering if Eddie is going to finally get a chicken dinner.
I’m switching between this and two first-time forays: the Game of Thrones series (thumbs up) and the Wheel of Time series (having a tough time with that one).
It’s cold, rainy, and still my weekend. Time to curl back up under the nearest Snuggie and see what the travelers are up to.