Book Hangover: The Unbearable Weight of Poignant Prose

Even when I am in the meaty middle of a juicy novel, my mind is always seeking its next delicious meal.

Take today for instance, I’m in the middle of Doctor Sleep, an entertaining sequel to Stephen King’s The Shining and I’m contemplating my next book.

Now Im sure at the mention of The Shining most immediately think of the Kubrick film. it’s iconic …..

Book Hangover

I’ve watched the Kubrick film countless times. Yet as a “constant reader” of King I had never read The Shining. I had begun it multiple times never making it out of (Stovington?)

Bored. I finally finished It on the in the car on the way to a movie theater to watch part one of the newer movies. If not for the movie I probably wouldn’t have read It.

I thought it was slow. I was bored. Oddly enough this has only happened with one other book (if it start it- I finish it) the other book was another on of King’s – the notorious It.

Yet, I’m not sure why I finally decided to pull The Shining down off the book shelf- top shelf to be exact in between The Night Shift and The Stand (one of my favorites).

I now know why I was bored yet I don’t. It’s inexplicable, yet perhaps I was meant to wait, to read the tome this year. Regardless of the random or purpose of the timing I found myself immersed in the evil of The Overlook Hotel.

The slowness I initially encountered upon my first couple tries of reading, was now appreciated. It deepened the story, time slowed down. Time. That is what the story is about, the book anyway. Evil and Time. Evil waits a long Time.

The evil in The Overlook found it’s way into those who who stayed in its rooms. Touching, nudging sometimes only ever so slightly, a little nudge setting of the evil that is present within each of us. All a combination of light and dark, good and evil, yin and Yang- the opposite sides of a coin.

One little nudge to shift the balance. Order becomes chaos and reason, insanity. King ever so slowly brings Jack to the very edge.

As Jacks sanity begins to crumble the pace picks up. His downward spiral quickening so King doesn’t nudge Jack over the edge, he shoves him. The multiple internal struggles Jack attempts to overcome are all too much and he succumbs to all save one- the most important one.

not telling- read the book

The end, nothing like the Kubrick film, was melancholy, yet satisfying and as I closed the book and put it back on the shelf, I scanned the shelves for my next read. Moving down a line of Kings work, I noticed Doctor Sleep, so of course that would be the next book.

Now, as I mentioned, I am about two-thirds of the way through Dan Torrance’s adventure in working at Hot Spice, and I’m thoroughly enjoying this horror story as I dive into one of King’s other works. I immediately turn to my husband and begin to say, “I think I know which book I am going…”

He turns as the tears begin their journey down my cheeks. “11/22/63.” He says.

Perhaps it is still too soon.

It’s been ten to eleven years since I first read Stephen King’s 11/22/63.

One response to “Book Hangover: The Unbearable Weight of Poignant Prose”

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: