I’ll take The Shining first, thank you very much. Like I’m really going to make that my first adult book to read. It was 700 pages long! My brother could hit me in the face with his paperback copy and it would have hurt like a sonofabitch. Needful Things was……not that book for me. Thus, to read your first Stephen King book, often as a hand-me down from an older sibling, was a real rite of passage for budding horror fans born in the 1980s. Finally, there was Stephen King, the infamously prolific author of so many attention-grabbing novels (haunted car, spooky hotel, end of the world disease outbreak, zombie pets back from the cemetery, and so on) with often intimidating lengths ( The Stand’s over a thousand pages long!). Then there was Christopher Pike and his slightly harder-edged stories about teenagers. Like a lot of people my age, my horror novel reading advanced in stages. Is that wrong?”) and delighted Leland Gaunt (“Hey, these things happen.”) struck me as the height of black comedy. Plus, the exchange between the deranged, gambling-addicted, newly murderous Danforth “Buster” Keeton (“I killed my wife.
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