Confessions of a cat

I do not like Stephen King’s thoughts anymore. I liked them when I was 14 and it’s been quite a few years now that I do not count myself a fan. But just nowadays I managed to watch a movie based on one of his late novels: Riding the bullet. Bullet is a roller coaster by the way. It is slow, predictable, very Stephen Kingy, and still based in Maine. Typical. Some like it that way - I just cant stand it. I fall to sleep reading / watching this. Mixing the different reality-planes, talking about death and giving you a final very clever life-changing observation on the end. Well, very well then.

It’s OK, I know that lots of people still like him, and Mr. King has been on the market for so long now (since at least the 1970’s) that he should probably try to reinvent himself.

He is whether brutal (and crazy) or just slow and tender and occasionally tries to make you jump (this one belongs here), sometimes so much in fantasy land that you might not have any idea about what’s going on - if at all. And that’s it.

As Jose Silva put it: I do not read novels because I am not curious about other people’s fantasies. Well I can’t say that because I still read novels occasionally (but life is so fast…) but not Stephen King anymore. Maybe in English - to learn some new expressions and chisel my use of words but that’s it. And there are good other sources for this as well.

Please do not misunderstand me, Mr King is good, but not for me. Not for me, anymore.