You ever have a favorite thing - a movie, a food, a book - that someone you know experienced for the first time and loved? There's this moment of loveliness at sharing something meaningful with someone you're close to, of reliving, vicariously, the first time you experienced it. And though it's what you wanted, of course, you almost envy the other person that feeling of discovery, right?
I recently experienced that with friends who are now reading some of the earlier Stephen King books and watching those movies. I love talking about those things, remembering how much they affected me as a kid (even some of the movies that were eye-rollingly bad). I'm excited that they liked the movie based on 'Salem's Lot, because I know they'll love the book. I just know it. And it all takes me back to when I was a kid reading it in bed at night with the covers over my head and the flashlight on, almost frantic to get to the next page. I read a LOT of Stephen King that way, as I recall (and Robert McCammon, Dean Koontz, Peter Straub, and others).
Earlier this week, I was interviewed for a podcast (check my Media and Upcoming Events for details, and the link, if you'd care to hear it) and was asked how I got into horror. I recalled pawing through my dad's boxes of books, looking for anything interesting. My grubby little hands came out with Carrie (or Christine; I'm pretty sure I read them both that week, and I can never remember which was first, although I really do think it was Carrie. It just feels right.), and it was one of those things where a piece of the puzzle of your life just clicks into place, and you discover something that was just meant to be a part of your life. Stephen King calls it finding your "true north," and I believe that I found mine that day. Because I absolutely devoured anything horror-related after that.
Those days and nights of delicious fear, the heart-pounding need to face the darkness with characters you care for, the triumphs and heartbreaking defeats shared, and the warm glow I felt after finishing a book that, for a few hours, absolutely transported me, moved me, showed me another world through different eyes...this is what I want to share with the world. This is the reason that I write. And, you know? Sometimes it's good to be reminded of that.
Peace,
Chris
I recently experienced that with friends who are now reading some of the earlier Stephen King books and watching those movies. I love talking about those things, remembering how much they affected me as a kid (even some of the movies that were eye-rollingly bad). I'm excited that they liked the movie based on 'Salem's Lot, because I know they'll love the book. I just know it. And it all takes me back to when I was a kid reading it in bed at night with the covers over my head and the flashlight on, almost frantic to get to the next page. I read a LOT of Stephen King that way, as I recall (and Robert McCammon, Dean Koontz, Peter Straub, and others).
Earlier this week, I was interviewed for a podcast (check my Media and Upcoming Events for details, and the link, if you'd care to hear it) and was asked how I got into horror. I recalled pawing through my dad's boxes of books, looking for anything interesting. My grubby little hands came out with Carrie (or Christine; I'm pretty sure I read them both that week, and I can never remember which was first, although I really do think it was Carrie. It just feels right.), and it was one of those things where a piece of the puzzle of your life just clicks into place, and you discover something that was just meant to be a part of your life. Stephen King calls it finding your "true north," and I believe that I found mine that day. Because I absolutely devoured anything horror-related after that.
Those days and nights of delicious fear, the heart-pounding need to face the darkness with characters you care for, the triumphs and heartbreaking defeats shared, and the warm glow I felt after finishing a book that, for a few hours, absolutely transported me, moved me, showed me another world through different eyes...this is what I want to share with the world. This is the reason that I write. And, you know? Sometimes it's good to be reminded of that.
Peace,
Chris
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