“Yes, yes, honey, I know you wish to stay up longer, but daddy must watch a gunslinger procure antibiotics from a pharmacist. No honey, I don’t expect you to understand. I expect you to sleep. Yes, daddy loves you, but quite plainly my dear The Dark Tower series was here first. Fairness in all things. Yes, yes, the bed is a jungle gym, roll around until you are content. Yes, feet out of the crib, face planted firmly into the mattress to drive your mother mad. Yes, good, fine. You are a large child. you will survive. I will correct you later, as your mother demands. Until then do as you wish. Yes, good night, Butt Butt. Daddy must go seek Roland lest he forget the face of his father. Go to sleep, Khef, ka, and ka-tet. We will smile and laugh again in the morning. Sweet dreams.”
That is a fake conversation I had with my 8th month old to make a point about how much I enjoyed this book. When I wasn’t reading I wanted to be. It was among the most conflicting books I have ever read so compulsively. And rightfully so in my shoes. What do you do with a man who spins a damn fine tale and simultaneously tackles a problem head on that I’ve spent a year at least trying to write with the barrel of a gun in my mouth.
Anyway, criticism. In the beginning the change in writing style bothered me but by the end it felt more confident and when telling any story that is the most important thing, the only thing. It gives the story motion, and motion it has. From there I comfortably sank into passenger and just sort of let the story fall over me, with only the occasional pang of jealousy for King’s handle on craft pulling me from my trip.
Is it perfect? I have no idea. I wasn’t watching. I was having too much fun.
“A lawyer’s answer…so close to the truth that the truth was able to hide in its shadow.” ― Stephen King, The Drawing of the Three