[Editorial] I’m Your No.1 Fan: Ka is a Wheel - Stephen King’s Presence Throughout My Life

Stephen King is a name that has always been in my life. I don’t remember a time before his books. As a little one learning to crawl and walk, the big letters spelling his name on my family’s bookshelves were some of the first things at my eye level. I grew up in a family of readers; both my parents and my older brother all loved to read, and I couldn’t wait to learn so I could read with them. We had shelves packed full of books, including everything Stephen King published, and some other big-name horror and mystery writers. For anyone hoping to discover King’s work, my home could have served as a guided tour through his work, and I now know how lucky I was. 

King’s miniseries adaptations are some of my first horror memories. IT (1990) was released when I was three years old, and while I am sure my parents didn’t let me watch it that young, it was probably only another couple or three years before I watched IT, taped off TV, the recording expertly skipping commercials. The Stand (1994) followed suit a few years later, and our taped-from-TV version became my sick day movie. If I was home from school and laid up in bed, I could use our little TV with the attached VCR, and watch The Stand. It was long enough to keep me occupied for hours, and I was familiar enough with the story that I could nap through it. It wasn’t until I was an adult that someone pointed out to me how grim it was for a child to watch a movie about a plague when she was home sick from school. It never crossed my mind nor bothered me! Also, shortly after The Stand was released, I had a sick day when I was eight years old when I managed to watch Kubrick’s The Shining (1980), and scare the daylights (deadlights?) out of myself. To this day, I am not sure how I got that past my dad, who was home with me. 

When I was twelve years old and in the seventh grade, I decided to read my first King book, and I chose IT (1986). I was familiar with the story from the miniseries, which I had watched countless times by then, and I thought it would be a comfortable start for me. Up until this point, my horror reading had been mostly Goosebumps, Fear Street, and the works of Christopher Pike, so it was a bigger jump than I realized. But my parents and older brother were supportive, and I was allowed. It’s a thick book, and when I took it to school to read between classes or at lunch, some kids made teasing comments which I ignored. At least my bullies were nowhere near as bad as Henry Bowers. 

Gerald’s Game (1992) is the only book my parents ever explicitly forbid me to read. Reading was generally encouraged in my house, my mother being a librarian and my father an adjunct professor, and they were thrilled that my brother and I were both avid readers. Forbidding books wasn’t a regular occurrence. So of course, Gerald’s Game became the most delicious-sounding forbidden fruit. What could possibly be in that book that my parents - the same parents who let me watch and read any other Stephen King story - would so object to? I had to find out. I read the book in secret, hiding it under my bed, which, in hindsight, was very dumb. (I should have put it back on the shelf when not reading it, and just remembered the page number where I left off. I am sure my parents must have known I was reading it.) I quickly figured out why they objected to the material. I was in eighth grade, and they weren’t wrong to try and shield me from the themes in that book at that age. 

My dad died suddenly when I was sixteen, from a heart attack when he was only forty-nine. Obviously, this was a terrible time for me and my family. I took some time off during my junior year of high school, and I was allowed to take a reduced class schedule while I did what I needed to do to start healing. I was at home a lot, often with my mom, sometimes by myself, since my brother was at college. I stayed in bed and read a ton. I started going through all the Stephen King books we had on the shelves that I hadn’t touched yet. I half-jokingly call this period in my life The Dark Years, because it was a devastating time, but also because I don’t remember much of it, due to my depression and changing medications. There are books I read during this time that I barely remember, except for the fact they got me through. To name a few: The Dark Half (1989), Insomnia (1994), Rose Madder (1995), Desperation (1996), The Regulators (1996), Hearts in Atlantis (1999), From a Buick 8 (2002), and the four books King wrote under the name Richard Bachman (Rage (1977), The Long Walk (1979), Road Work (1981), and The Running Man (1982)). I have had to re-read most of these, because the stories were lost to the dark time in my life, but those titles have a special place in my heart for the escape they provided when I needed it the most. 

Since my whole family were big fans of his work, King’s writing has influenced the language of my immediate family. Sometimes I don’t realize we’re quoting a work of King’s until someone outside our family gives us a strange look. For example, when we want to criticize the story of a book or movie for taking the easy way out, we say “He didn’t get out of the cockadoodie car!” quoting Annie from Misery (1987). When my dog would beg for a treat, one of us would put on our best Andre Linoge voice from Storm of the Century (1999), and say, “Give me what I want, and I will go away.” My dad was very fond of quoting Dolores Claiborne (1992), saying “shit washes off,” when he wanted to comfort me about something bad in the world, or sometimes just when cleaning up a mess. When we want to lightly tease one another for a silly mistake, we will quote Roland from The Dark Tower (1982) and say “you’ve forgotten the face of your father.” 

And because all things serve the beam, I have named nineteen King titles in this article, and I will leave it at that magic number. His influence on my life is undeniable. Stephen King is a huge part of the reason I fell in love with horror, and with reading. His books got me through the worst time of my life, and are a continuing source of bonding with my Ka-tet. I will always be one of his Constant Readers.

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