Stephen King has written a love story.

It’s also a story of sadness, loss and remembrance.

I started out not wanting to read the book alone and I finished wishing I was alone, instead of crying my eyes out on a plane full of people. But life is Ralph. I had the whole row to myself, every other seat was full yet none of the middles came to take my aisle seat. Such is the nonplausible reality of life, like when Ralph the dog returns home three years after he disappeared. Life is Ralph.

Ralph is only one of the little tidbits I’ve adopted from Lisey’s Story. It’s ripe with Landon-isms, maybe these are King-isms, I don’t know. But what I do know is that the narrative structure of Lisey’s Story is engaging. King switches between past and present so that you’re left all of a sudden wondering what world you are in. He makes you unease about shadows in the mirror, eating fruit after dark and basically taps into the darkest of superstitions.

Scott and Lisey Landon’s world is so well crafted in this book that it’s hard not to turn it into your own. To adopt Scott’s phrases, the same way Lisey has done. To feel like you as a reader are on a great bool hunt, you’re not just following the bool Scott has left for Lisey, you’re looking for the stations of the bool left for you by Stephen King.

You must be thinking what the smuck am I talking about?

A bool is a treasure hunt, a good joke, something fun, that ends in an RC, or a candy bar, or a story.

But Scott was a bit of a nutter himself. There are good bools, like the one he’s left for Lisey, and there are blood bools, like the ones his father introduced to him. Blood bools are bloodletting, when you cut to release the bad-gunky.

Lisey’s Story is about bools: blood bools and good bools.

But Lisey’s Story itself is a mothersmucking good bool.

And I have a bool for you, but you’ll have to wait until I set it up. Then we’ll play it. Hopefully later today or tomorrow.

Stephen King has never been one of my must-read authors. I generally feel that enough book buyers support Stephen King so I don’t have to. Instead I like to read the lesser-known books, the odd-ball fiction, the high-brow academic books that most people happily left behind after university.

I also tend to avoid Stephen King because he scares the crap out of me. My friend Nicole used to read parts of Tommyknockers to me on the school bus. I’d be haunted for days. Reviewers talk about the craft of Stephen King, the brilliance of his writing–I think he scares the crap out of them too.

The thing about Stephen King is that he’s a genius. I once saw him on celebrity Jeopardy and I recall Alex making a joke about whether he was going to let the other players in the game. The man knew everything. I admire a mind like a steel trap–it’s one of the many elements James brings to our relationship. He remembers the things I forget, like people’s names, places we’ve visited, the driving route to Port Moody or to IKEA in Richmond.

But lately Stephen King has been reinserting himself into my reading sphere. A couple of months ago I came across The Cell and was determined to read it. I posted about the charming Stephen King and his appearance on Amazon Fishbowl. Then I bought a cell phone and decided that my own paranoia about gas stations and cell phones (there’s a warning label on the pumps) was probably generating enough anxiety that I could pass on reading The Cell.

Then a week ago I received an advanced copy of Stephen King’s latest novel Lisey’s Story.

Lisey Debusher Landon recently lost her husband–a famous, cult author. He’s widely admired by academics and fans. Has won the National Book Prize and the Pulitzer. He too seems to have a mind like a steel trap, but his houses demons that Lisey is only just coming to understand. Lisey is a bit forgetful too. As she’s cleaning out his study, she realized that he likely told her the passwords to his computers, but it wasn’t important then so she forgot. Little moments of their relationship are like that too. The light heart–the relationship everyone sees; and the dark heart–the one even they like to ignore and forget. Lisey’s attempt to order and store her husband’s memorabilia becomes, in true Stephen King fashion, a journey to the heart of darkness.

That at least is what I gleaned from the back cover and my dip into the first few chapters.

Stephen King really is a master storyteller. His writing structure is incredibly sophisticated. What drove me mad with The Da Vinci Code was the generic, stereotypical characters and the thriller gender stereotype of plot vs. character. Also, there wasn’t really anything imaginative in the writing. The story was good and fast paced, which is what helped me plough through it. But Stephen King. He’s got flashbacks. He’s got several levels of mystery. And each page feels like a set up for something big and dark, which is lurking around the corner. He’s also got suspense and huge creep factor. This last element is why I avoid Stephen King.

I had every intention of ignoring this novel too but I thought it might be a little softer than the others. The cover copy calls it “perhaps King’s most personal and powerful novel ever … the temptations of madness, and the secret language of love.” See, seems rather charming rather than scare-the-pants-off-you.

I was also pulled in because it is an advance reader’s edition. Scribner has, for several years, not produced advances of Stephen King’s works. The reason is because advance reading copies are not for resale, they are meant to get reviewers and booksellers excited and talking about the upcoming book or ordering more copies. Basically they are the front-line buzz makers, they get the early scoop. Sometimes general public, bloggers and others loosely connected to the industry also get advances. But advances are really expensive to make, often more than the actual book. They cost more as well because they are mailed individually to people rather than via bulk shipments to stores. So I have an advance copy. I’m one of the few people in the world with a chance to read Stephen King before the rest of you. That’s pretty exciting. I’m 100 pages into the book, totally hooked but also rattled.

My new rules for Stephen King are

1. I must never read Stephen King alone.
2. I must never read Stephen King first thing when I wake up.
3. I must never read Stephen King when it is dark and rainy outside, and I’m all alone and I’ve just woken up.

I suspect also that #4 is true: I must never read Stephen King before I go to bed.

I’m going to wait until James comes home from early morning fishing and then when there is sunshine outside and lots of people coming for dinner, I will try to read a few more pages.

Thank you Stephen King for being such a creep. And thank you Scribner for tapping my pride and then punishing me with the anxiety of reading the whole book.

Lisey’s Story is available in stores October 24.

Third Class Superhero is the title story of this collection from Charles Yu, and it is by far my favourite.

Moisture Man receives a rejection letter.

Quote: Dear Applicant, not a good sign, the number of qualified candidates this year blah blah far exceeded the number of available blah.

Moisture Man has his good guy card, but he’s not even made it to third class superhero. Some of those he graduated with have climbed the ladder quickly and are already positioned to be first class superheroes.

It’s difficult to compete against the usual assortment of strong and beautiful superhero lads and lassies. The fireball shooters. The ice makers. The telepaths. The shapeshifters. Moisture Man is able to make two gallons of water from the moisture in the air and shoot it in a stream or a gentle mist. Or a ball. “Which is useful for water balloon fights, but not all that helpful when trying to stop Carnage and Mayhem from robbing a bank.”

Yu’s stories all full of anti-heroes, tragic figures and the absurd.

Disclaimer: Third Class Superhero is published by Harcourt and distributed by Raincoast in Canada so I have a vested interest in this book. But I can assure you that I’m not making up my enthusiasm for Yu.