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My Profile
Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
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3:45 p.m. - 2010-07-30
A long, long time ago, back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and everybody had dial-up I wrote an entry about me and Stephen King. About how his work has stood as clear marker posts along my life's path ever since I was 14 years old. That entry's gone now, as is most of my archive, cached in a zip drive and deleted, figured Andrew would appreciate my unloading several thousand entries off of poor D-land's bowed shoulders. And really, how freaking weird is it that I've been blogging since the days of 14k modems and dial-up anyhow? Anyhoodle I'm not going to barf up that ancient entry or even summarize it, except to say that like my buddy, Pam, I will always honor Stephen King. Even if his new work is too hurtful to read. The man has simply given me too much pleasure, inspiration and practical writing advice for me to ever really be cross with him. Like he'd care anyhow. That, to me, is the worst part. The old Steve would mind if his readers were wounded by his work and would care that we care about his hurt and feel bad his writing no longer gives him pleasure. This new one would be like, "Yeah? Well don't let the door smack your fanny on the way out." What do you do when someone you've loved since ever goes dead and ugly inside? Do like me, I suppose. Care about him anyway, re-read his work from the love years with pleasure, and admit that 'The Talisman' is a big chunk of the reason you have a kid named 'Wolf'. Not the entire reason, of course. There's Wolfs on both sides of the family, including my godfather. There's Mozart. There's Wolfgang Reitherman, my favorite Disney animator. But in that crowd of family and hopeful creative influences, there was also sweet, loyal, brave and noble Wolf who always kept his herd safe. There's way worse things you can wish on a kid with a namesake, you know?
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