Stephen King writes books that a lot of people like. I mean, A LOT of people like his books.
I am not one of them. Can’t stand horror. Not it a snide “that’s so low-brow” kind of way. More in a “Oh my god, I will never close my eyes again” kind of way. So, I’ve avoided Stephen King books the way some people avoid battery acid. I know what they will do to me.
This book, however, I sought out and enjoyed. King was writing about how to write. That subject can be scary too, but in a totally different way.
He has some good things to say, starting with what started him off and moving on to more technical issues.
I think I might have gotten more out of the story if I were familiar with his works, but even so, I got plenty enough out. He was fairly personal, talking about his young life and influences, and even exposing his drug and alcohol addiction.
He gave out some good advice: Don’t use adverbs, especially ‘zestfully.’ Interesting. And he even gave some real nuts and bolts, like specific magazines and books to check out if you want to be a writer.
I will say one thing, though. I listened to a recording of this book, and that was great. I got to hear King’s memories and thoughts in his own voice with his own rhythm and cadence.
The man has the strangest way of pronouncing the sound “L” that I have ever heard in my life. He closes his throat around it. And as much as I was interested in the last bit of the book, when he got into some very practical advice, I STILL wanted to strangle him for that weird gutteral “L.”
Go get the book. READ it, and you will be glad you did.