I picked up the latest Writer's Digest magazine and was thrilled to see an article on Tabitha King. I've always been curious about her. I read her first novel, Pearl, I think it was, but never read another one. If I remember correctly, Tabitha's writing style seemed over my head, if that makes sense. Call it literary, but I just knew the lady was smarter than me so I didn't feel comfortable with her. Still, I've remained faithful to her because she has something special. (No, not Stephen.) She has class. She has perseverance. She has guts. In our culture where husbands and wives compete with each other--win, lose or draw-take each other for all they've got, then leave, I'd say Tabitha and Stephen King are pretty blessed. She could have dumped him long ago, gone off and made it on her own. He could have gotten the big head and left her. If that had happened, I figure it would be like my favorite sitcom where all the characters make one good show but on their own, without each other, they're not worth spit.
You bet, I'm a Stephen Fan. I read every book up until Pet Sematary, and that one I couldn't finish. Once he had the little boy getting hit by the 18-wheeler, and showed the semi dragging him down the highway, that was it for me. Too real. Too horrible. No more. But then I did purchase, read and love The Green Mile series.
We took a vacation to Boston one year, rented a vehicle and drove all over the place. This was an extravagant, anything goes vacation, like none we've ever taken--or will ever take again. One morning we took off for Bangor, Maine, because I knew, deep down in my bones, better than I know my name, that I was going to get a glimpse of Stephen King--live and in person. We drove by the library where I'm sure he's been many times. We ate lunch at a strange place, a huge barn-like place; I wish I could remember the name of it. I searched every face wondering if he and Tabitha were eating there that very day. I was so sure . . . . We cruised around the area like star-struck groupies while I looked for a huge Victorian house behind a weird wrought iron gate, but of course, I saw nothing like that. We went to a local bookstore, a chain, not privately owned, and I've never seen so many Stephen King books in one place.
We spent the night in Bangor and the next morning, took the scenic route--the coastal highway--back to Boston. I remember feeling incredibly disappointed that I hadn't glimpsed my Stephen walking along the road, or up the steps of the Bangor library.
Now before you get the wrong idea, we're not groupies or stalkers. At the time, we were entering middle age and we had our two high school and college age kids with us. In search of Stephen King was just one more wild idea I had and my husband went along with it. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done if Stephen had been sitting in the restaurant right beside us. I'm not the bold, brazen type, so I'm almost certain I would have silently admired him from afar.
I have a friend who thought the moon and stars hung on Princess Di and her Prince. No thanks! Give me Stephen and Tabitha any old day of the week. They're a special two-some, a compatible two-some. According to the article in Writer's Digest, they still make each other giggle.
I like that. My husband and I giggle too every now and then. And we must be an okay pair to spontaneously take off to Bangor, Maine in search of Stephen King.
I think I'll celebrate compatibility and buy myself a Tabitha King novel--'cause I believe I'm smarter now.