Everyone has heard of Stephen King. Most people have read at least one of his books or seen at least one his movies. Those that haven’t know him by reputation: the king of horror, the master of scares, and so on.
I myself hadn’t read more than one or two of his short stories until a few years ago, when I picked up the first “Dark Tower” book at an airport. I quickly read the rest of the series, then read as many of the rest of his books as I could. I have read about 40 of his books, leaving about 20 or so left to get through.
It’s easy for those who haven’t read King’s work to dismiss it as gore fests or mindless terror. That is, after all, all horror is, is it not? But what I have learned reading his books is that scares mean nothing without love, without caring for other people, and it’s his interpersonal relationships that I find most enjoyable to read. Whether it’s found families like the Ka-Tet or the Losers Club, best friends like Dennis and Arnie from “Christine,” or communities like Mother Abagail’s followers in “the Stand,” King writes people who matter to each other, who would do anything to protect each other from the darkness in the world, even at the cost of their own life. And that’s just the horror books. Many of his stories don’t have supernatural elements or aren’t designed to inspire terror, but instead are written to show the resilience of people in tough situations.
I intend to read the rest of King’s books soon, as now more than ever, we need to be reminded to look for the light in the midst of all the darkness.
Long days and pleasant nights.
