I'm re-reading Christine right now. My copy is so old that as I read every page, it's fallen out of the book. It's a first paperback edition, former library book that I am sure I picked up at the annual used book sale which my old after-middle-school arts center always hosted. I might have paid $.50 or as much as $2.00 for it. The last time it was checked out of its old high school library was 1993. I think when I'm done this read through I have to admit the copy's given up the ghost, but when I do, I want to do something special with the pages. Maybe paint on them, a cool thing my artsy grandmother has been doing lately, or use them for horrifying awesome blackout poetry.
I'm almost finished with SK's newest book, The Bazaar of Bad Dreams. It's not my favorite - for a long time Rose Madder was, but now re-reading Christine I think it may actually be among his, if not the single, best. I wrote up a little review on Hubski and later, I'll embellish that here, because I do have opinions and thoughts. It's been an interesting read.
And I'm also almost finished Finders Keepers, another one of his latest novels. I had to put that one aside because, due to space concerns, I only wanted to lug one hardback 300+ page tome onto the plane for my recent trip to Georgia, and I was pretty sure if I took FK I'd finish it on the plane ride there and wouldn't have any reading material for my trip back.
Anyway, all my life I've been a big Stephen King fan. I wrote a senior thesis paper about Lovecraft, Poe and King as masters of horror in my final semester at college. I have stupid quotes from his books memorized by heart, for instance - "Life is short, and pain is long, and we were all put here on this earth to help one another," which is from Firestarter. In a different class in college I had an awesome professor who used to work for a bookstore, before she started professing, and during the course of the class (there were only about 7 students, it was summer session and we met daily) she learned of my love for Stephen King. She told us one day that she had a pre-publication galley of Bag of Bones, which, while not in my personal top-ranking Kings, still was major cause to drool.
And on the last day of that class, she took her copy out and gave it to me.
It's already probably the most emotionally valuable book I own because of what it is and how it came to me - a truly special story. But nothing would make me happier if someday, I got to meet Stephen King face-to-face if only for a couple of minutes, and if I could get him to sign it.
Horrifically yours,
ehb
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