I don't know if this will reach Mr. King, though he hardly deserves such a title.
It's been a very long time, perhaps since listening to my mom read me Old Yeller when I was eight years old, that I've cried, and hard, because of a book.
But alas! King is a jerk. Thank you for ripping my heart to shreds twice in one sitting. Thank you for causing the mascara I was wearing to burn my eyeballs. Thank you for writing the best, worst story I've ever read. I hate you. And though I'm not finished reading the final installment, I realize now that probably all of them will die. Susannah will die, Oi will die (or run away), and Roland will die. The only ones who'll live, are Brian Smith, and Stephen King, and at this moment, neither seem fair.
Sincerely,
A very upset reader
It's been a very long time, perhaps since listening to my mom read me Old Yeller when I was eight years old, that I've cried, and hard, because of a book.
When Eddie Dean passed into the clearing at the end of the path, I was shocked into a torrent of tears that rivaled Niagra Falls. Then I thought: "well, at least the dying is over, and the rest of them can get on with saving The Tower." I should have known, though, Stephen King being the arrogant, cruel writer that he is, that the dying would go on. I figured, maybe Susannah would die, or perhaps, heaven forbid, Oi, but not Jake. Not poor, innocent, trusting, and loving Jake. Not the Jake, whom Stephen King already killed once. Not the Jake who finally called Roland dinh, who called him father. Not Jake, who absorbed the steel and fire of those around him and turned it into his own ferocious brand of steel and fire. Not Jake whose life was just begun.
Sincerely,
A very upset reader
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