Jamieson Wolf
December 10th, 2009, 08:20 AM
Because I know that Salems Lot is very connected to The Dark Tower Books (and I'm re-reading those at the moment) I picked up a copy of Salems Lot at the bookstore yesterday. I had told myself that I was never going to read it again.
Not because it wasn't good; it was VERY good. But because the book scared the crap out of me.
I was eighteen years old when I read Salem’s Lot. I had started it and got to around fifty pages or so and stopped, thinking: Meh. Boring. I thought this was supposed to be a vampire novel…
I was on the bus later that week reading The Guardian by John Saul. A man sitting next to me motioned to the book. “Good book.” He said. “Stephen King is better.”
“I know.” I said. I stumbled upon Stephen King after getting a box of old books from my cousin Cassie. When I picked up Skeleton Crew I was entranced. The creepy monkey on the front of the book just creeped me right out; and made me want to dive into the book.
Since that book I had read every Stephen King book I could find. But Salem’s Lot was the first time I hadn’t been satisfied or hooked early on.
The man nodded, agreeing. “He’s an incredible writer, Stephen King.” He paused. “Have you read Salem’s Lot?”
I nodded. “Read fifty pages, stopped.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Because it was boring.” I thought this should be obvious. I got up to get off at my stop but the man grabbed my hand. “Wait,” he said.
I remember he looking at me then and there was a brightness in his blue eyes. The brightness almost frightened me and I was going to pull my hand away; but I froze. “Keep reading Salems Lot,” he said. “It gets better.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. When I got off the bus and looked back, the man was gone.
When I got home, I went to find my copy of Salem’s Lot. I opened it up to where I had left off and started reading. When I got to the part where Susan is turned into a vampire, I had to put the book down. My heart was beating quickly and I had been clutching the book in a white knuckled grip.
I was incredibly, terribly frightened. For some reason, it occurred to me that the man with the blue eyes might have followed me home. Salem’s Lot had me so frightened that I pictured the man coming in through the front door. I could still hear his voice. “Read Salem’s Lot…It gets better.”
Panicking, I went around the house and made sure that all the doors were locked. It still wasn’t enough. I turned on all the lights in the house. I still didn’t feel safe. I looked out and saw the dark night glaring at me. I closed all the blinds.
Heart beating, breath coming out in short gasps, I forced myself to finish, to finish the book. I knew that once I finished Salem’s Lot, I could stop being afraid; if I finished, the fear would end.
I was wrong.
I tried reading the book several times after that first time, but I can’t. Every time I turn the book to the first page, I keep thinking about how frightened the book made me, how much it scared me. I remember the darkness outside my windows, the brightness of all those lights burning at once.
I remember the man on the bus with the blue eyes.
Stephen King showed me true fear. And I am still afraid of what lies in Salem’s Lot. And though I am afraid, I am now going to give it another go. I am now going to conquer the fear that the book creates in me.
Wish me luck! LOL
Cheers,
]amieson
Not because it wasn't good; it was VERY good. But because the book scared the crap out of me.
I was eighteen years old when I read Salem’s Lot. I had started it and got to around fifty pages or so and stopped, thinking: Meh. Boring. I thought this was supposed to be a vampire novel…
I was on the bus later that week reading The Guardian by John Saul. A man sitting next to me motioned to the book. “Good book.” He said. “Stephen King is better.”
“I know.” I said. I stumbled upon Stephen King after getting a box of old books from my cousin Cassie. When I picked up Skeleton Crew I was entranced. The creepy monkey on the front of the book just creeped me right out; and made me want to dive into the book.
Since that book I had read every Stephen King book I could find. But Salem’s Lot was the first time I hadn’t been satisfied or hooked early on.
The man nodded, agreeing. “He’s an incredible writer, Stephen King.” He paused. “Have you read Salem’s Lot?”
I nodded. “Read fifty pages, stopped.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Because it was boring.” I thought this should be obvious. I got up to get off at my stop but the man grabbed my hand. “Wait,” he said.
I remember he looking at me then and there was a brightness in his blue eyes. The brightness almost frightened me and I was going to pull my hand away; but I froze. “Keep reading Salems Lot,” he said. “It gets better.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. When I got off the bus and looked back, the man was gone.
When I got home, I went to find my copy of Salem’s Lot. I opened it up to where I had left off and started reading. When I got to the part where Susan is turned into a vampire, I had to put the book down. My heart was beating quickly and I had been clutching the book in a white knuckled grip.
I was incredibly, terribly frightened. For some reason, it occurred to me that the man with the blue eyes might have followed me home. Salem’s Lot had me so frightened that I pictured the man coming in through the front door. I could still hear his voice. “Read Salem’s Lot…It gets better.”
Panicking, I went around the house and made sure that all the doors were locked. It still wasn’t enough. I turned on all the lights in the house. I still didn’t feel safe. I looked out and saw the dark night glaring at me. I closed all the blinds.
Heart beating, breath coming out in short gasps, I forced myself to finish, to finish the book. I knew that once I finished Salem’s Lot, I could stop being afraid; if I finished, the fear would end.
I was wrong.
I tried reading the book several times after that first time, but I can’t. Every time I turn the book to the first page, I keep thinking about how frightened the book made me, how much it scared me. I remember the darkness outside my windows, the brightness of all those lights burning at once.
I remember the man on the bus with the blue eyes.
Stephen King showed me true fear. And I am still afraid of what lies in Salem’s Lot. And though I am afraid, I am now going to give it another go. I am now going to conquer the fear that the book creates in me.
Wish me luck! LOL
Cheers,
]amieson