
|
|
The first section of this book takes the reader on a whirlwind tour through Stephen King's life as a writer. His earliest memory contains hints of the popular, risk-taking author he would become: at three years old, he imagined he was the Ringling Brothers Circus Strongboy, lifting up a large cinderblock in his garage. He recalls: "I was dressed in an animal skin singlet (probably a leopard skin) and carrying the cinderblock across the center ring. The vast crowd was silent. A brilliant blue-white spotlight marked my remarkable progress. Their wondering faces told the story: never had they seen such an incredibly strong kid." This fantasy of enormous power, of awing the public with his unusual abilities, resulted in young Stephen dropping the block on his bare toes (when a wasp, angry at having his comfortable cement home moved, stung him on the ear) and screaming bloody murder. But his imaginative life was not curbed by this incident (nor by others like it). Cinder blocks falling on one's toes, like rejection slips and bad reviews, are just part of the territory in which the craft of writing can be learned.