-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
So, I think everyone who’s ever inched close to this blog by now knows that I am a huge fan of Stephen King. My first great literary love, I still have a huge soft spot for him, look upon a lot of his back catalogue with deep affection, and probably always will. But that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t put out some stinkers, too. And I figured – hey, why not share my favourite Stephen King books right here alongside the ones that I think sucked the hardest? I know I have some controversial choices here, but I stand (heh) by them – and would love to hear your best and worst, too. So, without further ado, let’s look at the standouts – the good and the bad – and get down to rankin’ some writin’!
Sorry for the break between chapters (a refrain so well-repeated you must know it by heart by now). I’ve been travelling a lot, and work has been piling up, and sometimes I just want to sit and play old LucasArts games from the late nineties instead of grinding away at another chapter of this book, you know? Anyway. Of interest: I read the new Stephen King book, The Outsider, and it was yet another example of his recent work that starts really strongly before fading to meh by the end of the third act. That said, it did feature a really strong female character (lifted from a totally seperate trilogy, mind you, which annoyed me in it’s own right) who was never referred to by her titties, so…progress?
Spring turned to Summer. I went to Spain; I came back. UnREAL ended. My book is coming out. Riverdale is done for. I started a series dissecting television. I sat in parks, drinking kombucha and staring off through the trees, and all the while the wind whispered through the leaves, a familiar refrain: “Write a fucking Carrie recap, you loser, you fucking imbecile”.
Whoops. Well, it’s been a while since we had a Carrie recap, which is my bad, but at the same time I had some pretty fucking wild crazy exciting news that you may want to check out that will hopefully redeem me for this late recap.
It’s a fine Sunday afternoon in my city of choice, I’m sipping watermelon-mint kombucha and wearing cat-eye sunglasses like the unacceptably awful motherfucker that I am, and it struck me that it’s been a while since we had a Carrie recap. Let’s change that and get back of the Kingwagon!
Sorry for the break in recaps – these posts tend to eat up quite a lot of time, so sometimes they have to get forgone if I have a lot of work to catch up on or, you know, if there’s a really good match on or the Oscars to deal with or something. We left off last time as the carnage at the prom began to unfold, and we pick up with an interview with a local drunk who recounts, in an exceptionally long Q-and-A session that I swear takes up a good half of this entire chapter, what he saw as Carrie started her rampage.
So, we’re back – another Monday night, another delve into the bloody (in the cursing sense) and bloody (in the gory, soak-through-six-tampons-in-an-afternoon sense) world of Carrie.
I’m attempting to keep to something remotely close to a schedule with these recaps, so we’re back this week with another delve into Carrie! Thanks to all the brilliant people who’ve been keeping up with this so far, and if this is your first time at the rodeo, you can catch up on the last recap here! And, just on the off-chance that you’re interested in other horror-related writing, I wrote a piece on the future of found footage earlier this week that might be of interest to you.
The Cutprice Guignol 