Dear Mr. King,
I would like to tell you about how your book Misery was pretty significant in the life a little child (who just happened to be me). I have read this book several times--the most recent being last summer--and have enjoyed each and every subsequent read-through of its 320 pages (at least in my edition). I loved everything, the pacing, the tone, generally just the writing. Now, I know that this is getting a bit to complimentary for the official LAL guidelines, but trust me, there’s a point to this blatant disregard of all rhyme and reason. Even though I loved the book, even though many others loved the book, I’ve just got to say: it scared the (to take one of Annie’s phrases from the book) ‘eff out of me. I guess it was sort of a bad idea to read it in the fourth grade, but hey, what’s done is done. No book (not even any of yours) has scared me like this one did. There was just something that I, as a nine-year-old child (yep, it’s crazy that I read this at that age, isn’t it) found utterly terrifying. Maybe it was the cop and the lawnmower scene (a face like hash browns *ewe*) or the foot cutting, but it just got to me. It was a good fear, though, an infectious fear, and it made me want to keep reading. I wanted more. More books, more stories, more, more, more. This is one of the ways my life has been affected by this book. Before the fourth grade (and before this book) I wasn’t all that into reading. I mean, I’d read a Potter book here and there, Eragon, what have you, but nothing ever made me want to, need to read more. After this book, I did. So thank you Stephen (can I call you Stephen?....probably not) for inspiring me to want to read. I practically ate up literature. Mind you, none of it was as utterly terrifying to me as this, but it gave me a jump start, a hunger. So, thanks, thanks for opening my mind to the wonderful world of literature.
I’m not going to proclaim anything as outlandish like “I’ve been abducted by a crazy serial killer nurse” or anything; however, there are certain parallels that I can make in connection to my own life. Paul is, in essence, trying to separate himself from his past (i.e. the Misery series of books), which is similar to the way that I’m trying to separate myself from my past (or the expectations of others). For most of my life I’ve been expected to play sports (it must be because of my tremendous physical build J). But that’s not who I am. This may seem kind of lame, but one of the biggest problems of the last six years of my life was playing sports each and every year, every day, every week. I don’t want to do that anymore, just as Paul doesn’t wish to write Misery. He wants to break free, and so do I.
So, Stephen, ahem, Mr. King, thanks for taking the time to read this, if it ever gets to you (which it probably won’t) for taking the time to write, and use your gift to inspire fourth graders (who probably shouldn’t be inspired by your particular books) around the world.
Sincerely,
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