Stephen King

By Carl Begai

I was recently taken to task by a couple diehard Stephen King fans for this blog offering my compliments for Under The Dome, given the brush off for “damning him with faint praise” because my tongue didn’t take up residence in King’s ass. With that in mind I’ve decided to weigh in on his “little” epic, which turned out to be a satisfying read despite the widespread slamming he’s received for it.

Yes, I know I’m a bit late considering the book was published in 2009, but if you don’t like it there’s the door ————————>

The basic premise of the story (click here here for a synopsis that ruins the end for you) is classic science fiction:

— small town Somewheresville (in this case, Chester’s Mill) is cut off from the rest of the world by an invisible force field, dubbed The Dome.

— things go from peculiar to bad to worse for the folks on the inside.

— you’re in a Stephen King story; karma’s a bitch.

As Stephen King books go, Under The Dome has moments reminiscent of Needful Things and It, but it isn’t and will never be considered one of his best works by his legion of Constant Readers. Everything from the sheer bulk of it (1,000+ pages), to lack of character depth, to King’s in-your-face views on religion and the Obama administration have been cited as reasons why Under The Dome fails to live up to expected high quality King-ship. Then there’s the end of the story, which has left some folks screaming “foul” for being too empty, too quick, too Hollywood…

Bah. Getting there was half the fun. Continue reading Under The Dome – Stephen King

I’m a voracious reader. It’s an addiction that started upon my entrance into geekdom with comic collecting, a pursuit I would be following even now if the price of 5-pages-per-issue of sub-standard artwork wasn’t so frickin’ high. My actual book devourment started with cheesy sci fi / fantasy novels from Alan Dean Foster, David Eddings and the like, and as I grew older my horizons quite naturally broadened. Mostly because I was hopeless with girls. When I finally did manage to figure out the boy-girl thing, the comics and books took a back seat, but I was slowly drawn back into these paper-and-prose worlds of escapism when real life convinced me to take a break now and then or risk losing what was left of my mind.

I’ve done a fair bit of reading in my 42 years, to the point that I’ve found myself buried in a book written by one of literature’s finest (as not defined by some damn Wuthering Heights-bent school curriculum) and thinking “I could write better than this. Hell, I have written better than this.” The arrogance of delusion, I suppose. There are a couple works of “art” sitting here waiting to be published, in fact, so maybe one day I can put my money where my mouth is.

With that in mind, I was recently reminded of something Stephen King once said. I’m not his biggest fan but I’ve enjoyed several of his books over the years. One of them, entitled On Writing, is basically his take on what makes a good writer versus a bad one. He offers anecdotes, advice and a number of stories related to his craft. The one slice of wisdom that has always stuck with me is “Write what you know..,” and while I have no idea if King has ever gone face-to-muzzle against a rabid dog or had dreams about being chased down by a psychotic clown, the message was and is clear. Basically, if you’ve been weaned on estrogen-charged I-Can’d-Beleev-Iss-Not-Budder cover model romance novels, you probably shouldn’t try to one-up Tom Clancy on the political thriller front.

After a recent bordering-on-frantic search for something good to read I’m thinking King’s rule should be updated as follows:

Write What You Know, But Step The Fuck Out Of Your Show-Me-The-Money Comfort Zone, Dammit.
Continue reading Eating The Bookworm: Stephen King And I