I am an avid Stephen King fan. I greatly admire his ability to write stories that are both entertaining bestsellers and sharp, intricate works. No offense to fans, but King’s works are not in the same bracket as other bestsellers such as Confessions of a Shopaholic or The DaVinci Code. There is a brilliance and a command to think, to invest in the story and its characters, and to glean the purpose of the story. He is truly an inspiration to me as an aspiring writer, and he will continue to keep me engrossed for hours on end as a reader.
This post is spawned by an afterword I just read upon completing King’s The Colorado Kid. In the aforementioned afterward, King states: “I write to find out what I think.” I had to reread this sentence a half dozen times before I believed that my eyes did not create the words on the page, that they were really there. I was struck by this comment for two reasons: 1) King’s explanations of his writings’ origins never cease to amaze me. He takes very little credit, blaming his yarns on dreams and visions that he simply narrates (very much like the Bible, eh?). That he admits that even he doesn’t always know what will appear on his computer screen gives me hope. 2) This statement so holistically describes how I subconsciounsly approach writing. It is the most bizarre thing when I start to write — it’s as if an Angela who rarely sees daylight hijacks my body, using it to conveys her own thoughts and messages. I know it sounds absurd, but it is nevertheless true. I lose myself when writing. Oftentimes I amaze myself upon rereading my work. Did I really write that? Where the heck did that come from? Certainly does not negate that I love it. If I am to be brutally honest, it may very well be the only thing at this point that I can truly say I love doing.