I’ve just started Under The Dome, by Steven King. Haven’t even gotten very far into it but already I have that tingle. You know, the one you get when you know you’re starting a book you’re going to enjoy. You want to know what happens next or just know more about the people or location. The one that is already tinted with melancholy because you know even though you only started the book is going to end. Yeah, that tingle.
It’s a bit different than when I was reading The Illustrated Man, because a short story doesn’t really give you the opportunity to get into the characters enough (which, given that they all generally ended badly, is probably a good thing). They were short fairy tales and enjoyed on the spot, but with a book like this you’re looking forward to the next time you read, and the next. It’s the kind of feeling you only get from really big books from an author you trust enough to take you on a journey – like Lord of the Rings or The Stand (also by King).
Steven King isn’t my favorite writer, but he is in the top ten. Unlike my other favorites – Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Jasper Fforde, Toby Frost, Harlan Ellison, and others, there are in fact books of his that I haven’t liked – even ones I haven’t finished. But the ones I like, I like a lot. I have a feeling even at this early stage that this will be one of them.
Feels good to sink into a big ass book again, probably what I need to get my big butt back to editing my own works (something I’ve been putting off god-knows how long.
Back to the book!