Here are a few blurbs about his work.  Take a look.  I’m enjoying Key to Suite immensely.  It’s such a treat to come across one of his novels….and that’s one of the best things you can say about a writer who is no longer alive.

JOHN D. MACDONALD  “….the great entertainer of our age, and a mesmerizing storyteller.”

–STEPHEN KING

“….a master storyteller, a masterful suspense writer.”

–MARY HIGGINS CLARK

“….a dominant influence on writers crafting the continuing series character.”

–SUE GRAFTON

“….my favorite novelist of all time.”

–DEAN KOONTZ

“…the consummate pro, a master storyteller and witty observer.”

–JONATHAN KELLERMAN

“…remains one of my idols.”

–DONALD WESTLAKE

THE TRAVIS McGEE SERIES

“…one of the great sagas in American fiction.”

–ROBERT B. PARKER

“…what a joy that these timeless and treasured novels are available again.”

–ED McBAIN

In any case, a movie that features a dog as sweet and friendly as Uggie deserves an Oscar.  I couldn’t take my eyes off the little dog, and I’m certain others felt the same way.  I remember as a boy wondering why my dog couldn’t behave like Lassie.  I’m sure kids today hope for a dog like Uggie.  Go see the movie if you haven’t already.  It’s well worth it.

Jack Russell Terrier

I confess as I’ve gotten older he tires me out a little.  Maybe it’s a bit like eating.  When we’re younger we can eat like goats, but as we get older it behooves us to be a little careful.  I tried a couple King books in the past few years and let them be.  They were good, they held my interest, but after a while….they just became too much.  Too much of a muchness, as someone said.  I wanted to say, let’s grab a couple of these scenes and cut them down to size, but what the heck…he’s Stephen King.  What you get with Stephen King is what you get with Stephen King.

I recently started his latest novel, 11/22/63, and, as always, I’m drawn in.  I love King’s loose, happy voice.  He’s a good spirited guide.  And he’s taking us back to the land of my boyhood, the fifties, and showing us what life was like then.  I’m only a small way in but I’m looking forward to where he is taking me.  His imagination continues to amaze me.

I’ll always be in King debt for The Stand, It, Misery, Salem’s Lot….the list goes on.  He takes a big swing and he usually gets it right.  He’s given me countless hours of reading pleasure and what else should an author do?  He is a force of nature.

I hope he keeps going forever.  And I’ll pick him up and give him a try whenever I see something new.  He feels like good company now and he has been for a long time.  And he’s also written the best book on writing that I’ve ever read.  So I hope the book is a screaming success, as I’m sure it will be.  It will be a sad day when there’s no more Stephen King to look forward to….

 Once, a long time ago, the Celtic hero Oisin fell in love with a ban-sidhe named Niamh.  A ban-sidhe is a fairy woman, but more than fairy, she is a woman.  Winning her love, Niamh carried him to Tir na Nog, a blustery island off the west coast of Ireland, and there she kept him for three hundred years.  They lived side by side in bliss and no mortal, before or since, has lived such a life of pleasure and joy.  The Island – known also as the Land Over Sea and the Land Under the Wave –  could be reached only by the fairy horses, who ran on the sea as on ice.

            In time, though, being a man, and given a man’s vision of life, Oisin longed to set eyes on his native land.  When he told his love he wished to go, Niamh cried for a year, then called her favorite horse to her.  She told Oisin that the horse would carry him back to his land, but that he must be mindful of two things.  First, years had passed and Oisin must be prepared to visit the many deaths of his loved ones and over that she could not protect him.  Second, he must not dismount his horse, because to do so would be to add his years in one instant to his living frame, and he would grow old in a moment.

            Kissing Niamh farewell, Oison rode a white fairy horse across the sea.  When he arrived, he found his comrades dead, his family dispersed, his land under rule by foreigners.  It brought him great discontent to see the state of the world, and he turned his horse back to Tir na Nog.  On his return, however, he came across a group of men struggling to load a stone onto a wagon, and in his attempt to help he slipped from the saddle and his feet struck the earth.  In the time it takes to blow out a candle, he became a blind, helpless old man.  The horse ran into the sea and became salt.

            Oisin wandered the western Irish coast for many years until Saint Patrick took pity on him.  Saint Patrick allowed Oisin to live in his house and attempted to convert him to Christianity.  But Oisin – despite the kindness shown to him by Saint Patrick – continued to haunt the western coastline, the scent of the salt water calling him to turn his head in the direction where his love waited.  For her part, Niamh caused the island to appear in the mists from time to time, hoping against reason that her love might return.

            Over the years a few people have claimed to have seen the island where the fairies continue to live, but whether their reports are true or not, no living person can judge with accuracy.  One claim made by people who follow such legends is that the island may only be seen by those who have lost their true love.  The island, they say, appears in the heart, not before the eyes, and there the ice imprisons the sea, which beats against the underside of the cold north wasteland, where many loves sing in the silence to the seals……