This is one of those shining examples of what King can accomplish when he really puts himself into his work and has some idea of where the story is going before he starts.
Why, by the 80s, was all of Stephen King lumped together into one genre, simply titled “Stephen King”?
This is right out of that short Family Guy sketch. You know the one. The one where Stephen King is in his publisher’s office coming up the ideas for new horror stories, grabs the lamp, and suddenly proclaims his next novel is about a haunted killer lamp.
At around the one-quarter mark my delicate modern sensibilities started to get more than a little offended, and I started to think to myself: man, this would never be written today.
Told through a variety of views, including memoir, police report, and medical journal, Carrie tells the story of Carrie White, a put-upon young woman who gets her first period at the age of 16.
If I were playing that game right now, I’d have died of alcohol poisoning.
Battleground tells the story of a man being attacked by the small green soldiers that used to be the height of childhood play