The Stephen King Companion

by George Beahm

  King’s piece largely discusses his thoughts on “The Question” posed to him from a Rhode Island newspaper reporter, in response to which, he says, “I cunningly answer I don’t know, because I want to answer it here and get paid for it.”

  If you want to find out what “The Question” is and pay King for it, buy the book: I ain’t gonna tell ya. But what I will tell you is that Faithful is a 445-page love letter to King’s favorite baseball team, and as such it’s worth reading.

  Think about it: In Faithful, we read how the Red Sox went on to win the World Series, even though they hadn’t won one in nearly nine decades. You can’t ask for a better ending to a book.

  That’s life, that’s baseball, and this time, in the big leagues, there was no need for crying … unless you’re a Cardinals fan.

  “Not in My Lifetime. Not in Yours, Either”

  In The Shawshank Redemption, Andy Dufresne says, “Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”

  The same can be said of the Red Sox’s legion of fans who are true believers at the start of every season, hoping to see their team get to the World Series and, once again, win.

  Michele Norris of NPR interviewed King for “Stephen King on Baseball’s Spring Training.” It aired on March 16, 2005. In the piece, King explains that, before the miraculous 2004 season, he despaired of ever seeing his team win a World championship, hence the words he figured would be engraved on his tombstone: “Not in my lifetime. Not in yours, either.”

  King now has to pick different words for his tombstone.

  As Norris explains, for Stephen King, the Red Sox are “an addiction,” not merely a passion. “I generally find a way to finagle tickets, although I have to tell you this year has been an extremely tough ‘get’ as far as Red Sox tickets go,” said King. “The feeling is one of possibility, endless possibility, anything can happen at that point in the season; everybody is tied for first place.”

  91

  STEWART O’NAN: AN INTERVIEW

  BY HANS-ÅKE LILJA

  NOVEMBER 18, 2004

  Lilja: How is Faithful going? I’m guessing that you had a lot of work to do recently since it’ll be out in about a week, right? Was it your or the publisher’s choice to put it out so soon after the Red Sox won the World Series?

  Stewart O’Nan: Faithful is done, or at least it’s at the printer. We had expected all along to have the book in stores by early December, no matter how the team did. The fact that they played all the way until October 27th made us work a little harder, but it was definitely worth it. And the publishers, realizing they now had an even more special book, decided to move the publication date up to November 22nd. But Steve and I both work quickly and cleanly, and they counted on that.

  Lilja: How happy were you and Stephen when they won? It’s almost too good to be true that they won the same year you decide to write a book about them, right?

  Stewart O’Nan: It’s still a bit of a dreamy feeling. Remember, the Red Sox hadn’t won the World Series for eighty-six years. Whole generations of Sox fans never got to see them win it all. Steve thought he’d never see it in his lifetime. So now, when I’m just sitting somewhere doing something, I’ll remember: “Oh yeah, the Red Sox won the World Series,” and I can’t help but smile.

  Lilja: How did you and Stephen decide to write the book?

  Stewart O’Nan: Steve and I have been going to games together for years. We e-mail and talk about the team all the time, and last year in August when the team got hot, Steve decided we should keep a log of our reactions to their games. This spring, when the season was about to start, my agent asked if I wanted to write a book about the Red Sox (every year he asks me this, but this year I’d just finished a novel and finally had the time). I said I’d write it only if Steve could be my coauthor. Steve was busy, but said he’d try to contribute as much as he could. And once the season got going, his natural love for the game kicked in and he couldn’t stay away.

  Lilja: How was the book written? Was it hard to write with someone else compared to writing alone?

  Stewart O’Nan: The book is in a double-diary format. For each game or Sox-related issue that we found interesting, we’d write separate entries. There are also e-mail exchanges on hot topics. Essentially, the book is a season-long conversation between two supremely interested fans. Working with another writer, in this case, was easy, since as fans we basically agree about what’s important. In drafting pieces about players or the games, there was some overlap, but in those cases I’d just edit out any redundancies.

  Lilja: Is this your first collaboration?

  Stewart O’Nan: No, I once wrote a screenplay about the life of Clara Schumann with novelist A. Manette Ansay. That was much more difficult, as we didn’t quite agree on the role of Brahms or her many children in her life.

  Lilja: On the first two covers for the book it said “Stewart O’Nan with Stephen King” and not “Stewart O’Nan and Stephen King.” Now, on the final cover, it only lists both your names. Can you explain why? Did you write the majority of the book?

  Stewart O’Nan: I’m not quite sure why they have our names that way, other than that’s what the publisher wanted for stocking purposes (that is, how it’s listed in bookstores’ computers). I’m not sure what the word count or page count is, but I can safely say I wrote a majority of the text.

  Lilja: I remember that you wrote a book you wanted to call Dear Stephen King (later renamed Speed Queen) some years ago. I then heard (don’t know if it’s true) that Stephen wouldn’t let you use his name in the title. Is that correct, and if so, did he give you a reason? And now you’re writing a book with Stephen King. Are there any hard feelings about the Dear Stephen King title?

  Stewart O’Nan: Yes, the whole Speed Queen flap was over using Steve’s name, and now that I’ve spent time with him, I see why. Everyone wants a piece of him. So no, there are no hard feelings. He’s a prince of a guy, very giving.

  Lilja: Why did you use Stephen’s name when you wrote Speed Queen and not just some fictional name? Were/are you a fan of his books?

  Stewart O’Nan: I used the name because it made sense to me that, to my character, Stephen King would be the only person who would understand her. He’s a confessor-judge figure for her, and for all of America. He understands our deepest hopes and fears (or so she hopes!). And yes, I’m a huge fan of his work, always have been. Without his work—and Ray Bradbury’s—I would have never become the reader and writer (the person) I am.

  Lilja: I heard some time ago that Christina Ricci was going to star in and direct a movie version of Speed Queen. What happened to that project?

  Stewart O’Nan: Christina Ricci was supposed to direct and star in the movie version of Speed Queen, but could never make time in her schedule to make that happen. As it turned out, she ended up playing a similar role in Monster, so I sometimes wonder if she was just blocking our project to make sure it didn’t get in the way of that one. Speed Queen apparently will get done, as the option was just exercised.1

  Lilja: Do you think there is any chance Stephen will play himself in the movie if it’s ever done?

  Stewart O’Nan: The screenplays that I’ve seen don’t even deal with that aspect of the book. I think the flap over the title scared the producers.

  Lilja: You have written quite a few books yourself, such as The Good Wife: A Novel coming in April 2005. What kind of books would you say you write? Horror? Drama? Fiction? All of the above? And which one would you recommend to someone who hasn’t read any of your books before?

  Stewart O’Nan: Speed Queen’s a wild satire of American appetites, and a great departure from my usual stuff. I tend to write two kinds of novels—pastorals and gothics—and sometimes combine the two, as in A Prayer for the Dying or The Night Country. Even my first novel, Snow Angels, has that mix of stillness and foreboding in it. In my best work I’m trying not just for surface effects, but something more real and heartfelt. Those are my favor
ite kinds of books and movies, so it makes sense. For someone who’s never read my work, I’d recommend Snow Angels first.

  1 The movie has yet to appear.

  92

  THE COLORADO KID

  2005

  Cover to The Colorado Kid by Stephen King from Hard Case Crime books.

  A lobster design on an outside wall at a York, Maine restaurant.

  As Chris Chesley pointed out, Stephen King always had his nose in a book; most often, a paperback book, because in those days neither Chris nor Stephen could afford hardbacks. (It wasn’t until King struck it rich with the paperback sale of Carrie that he could afford to buy hardbacks on a regular basis.)

  King has written before about how there’s always time to read, if you take advantage of those moments in life when there’s nothing else to do to pass the time. Take small sips, he wrote in On Writing; not everything has to be consumed in a big gulp.

  Sipping books works for King. In his underground library located beneath his garage at his main Bangor home, there are seventeen thousand books on its shelves, which represent the books the family has read: The Kings consume books like most people consume peanuts.

  If you had to pick one representative photo of King, it’s a Bangor Daily News staff photo showing King with a book in hand, leaning up against a brick wall in downtown Bangor.

  King’s first love was paperback books, and publishing The Colorado Kid as a mass market paperback was his way of paying homage to the mass market paperback book format he remembered seeing as a kid on spinner racks at the drugstore in Durham, Maine. Published by Hard Case Crime, whose book covers often feature nubile girls in various states of undress, the cover for The Colorado Kid is a visual come-on: The buxom brunette in a black dress, shapely legs crossed, is holding up a microphone; her bemused expression invites self-confession.

  But readers thinking it’s going to be a salacious book are in for a rude surprise: The cover is misleading, as USA Today’s Carol Memmott noted: “The real question may be the identity of the sultry brunette on the book’s cover. There’s no one like her in the story.”

  You can’t always judge a book by its cover.

  At the end of the book, there’s a big surprise, and it’s a doozy. Sometimes seeing is believing, and nothing else can substitute. You’ll know what I mean when you read this book.

  THE PUBLISHER’S BACKSTORY

  The original book, in mass market paperback, lacks an introduction. The U.K. hardback edition, though, sports “Birth of the Colorado Kid,” written by Hard Case Crime publisher Charles Ardai, who explains

  I was minding my own business when a call came in from Steve’s agent and long-time editor, Chuck Verrill. “Steve asked me to give you a call,” he said. “He wanted me to let you know that he does not want to write you a blurb—”

  “Of course,” I said. “I understand completely. That’s completely understandable.”

  “—because,” Chuck went on, “he wants to write you a book.”

  I sat on the other end of the phone while this sank in and tried to sound cool, like this was the sort of phone call I get every day and twice on Fridays. But inside I was turning cartwheels.

  The submitted book, though, wasn’t quite like any of the other books published in the Hard Case Crime lineup, which may have disappointed some of the publisher’s hardcore readers. But I submit that any book publisher blessed with a new King novel should stay calm and publish well, even if it’s not a perfect fit.

  The Colorado Kid, as Charles Ardai wrote in his piece, “is an unusual and ambitious book, a tale about frustration that some readers have found frustrating—to which I answer Yes, exactly, that’s the whole point!”

  In this instance, King’s afterword proves illuminating because he explains the why and wherefores, and though it may be small comfort for the frustrated readers who wanted a definitive resolution to the story, King still delivers a well-told tale: I liked the interplay between two old salts, journalists who share a small office at the Weekly Islander at Moose-Lookit Island, and their avuncular relationship with the pretty, young college graduate who is their intern. I liked the leisurely telling of the story, which mirrors the relaxed pace of life on the small island. I especially liked its element of mystery, which as King stated in his afterword is not insoluble.

  King explains in his afterword that life itself is an unfathomable mystery:

  Where do we come from? Where were we before we were here? Don’t know. Where are we going? Don’t know. A lot of churches have what they assure us are the answers, but most of us have a sneaking suspicion all that might be a con-job laid down to fill the collection plates.

  This really isn’t a Hard Case Crime book in the traditional sense; in fact, the only crime associated with the book was when an advance copy went missing and showed up on eBay, where it was auctioned off for $1,623.

  If you’re a King fan who passes this one up because it’s not horror, I’d say that’s not a crime—a misdemeanor, maybe.

  Read the book and see what you think. Better yet, read it carefully and see if you can figure out the mystery. But don’t be surprised if it flies over your head; some things, after all, can be found only with hard evidence, and others things only with faith.

  A Maine seascape

  93

  HOW TO SPEAK LIKE A “MAINAH”

  In a short piece at goneengland.about.com, “Speak Like a Mainer,” Debby Fowles, who returned to her native Maine after seeking her fortune elsewhere, gave some good advice on how to “speak like a Mainah.”

  I suspect Steffie, in The Colorado Kid, would have appreciated this advice because it would have been easier for her to fit in with the old-timers at the paper.

  Here’s Fowles’s advice:

  The key is to relax your jaw. Say “Mainer.” Notice the tension in your jaw and how it opens only slightly. Now say “Mainah,” letting your lower jaw drop on the “ah” paht (er, I mean “part”). Practice saying it in an exaggerated manner to get the feel. Now you’re ready for the rules of Mainespeak.

  1. Words that end in “er” are pronounced “ah.” Mainer = Mainah. Car = Cah. Mother and Father = Muthah and Fathah. Water = Watah. You get the drift.

  2. Conversely, words that end in “a” are sometimes, but not always, pronounced “er.” California becomes Californier. Idea becomes idear. Yoga becomes Yoger.

  3. Drop the “g” in “ing.” Stopping and starting = stoppin’ and startin’, or more correctly, stoppin’ and stahtin’.

  4. Broaden a and e sounds. Calf becomes cahf. Bath becomes bahth. Can’t becomes cahn’t.

  5. Drag out some one-syllable words into two syllables. There becomes they-uh. Here becomes hee-ah.

  Fowles also recommended the humorist Tim Sample’s Web site (timsample.com), and helpfully provides her favorite Maine words or phrases, of which I’m listing only a few, to give you a taste:

  Ayuh: Yup. Sure. Okay. That’s right. You bet.

  Cah: A four wheel vehicle, not a truck.

  Cunnin’: Cute.

  From Away: Not from Maine.

  Numb: Dumb. Stupid.

  Wicked: Very. To a high degree, such as wicked good, wicked bad, wicked exciting.

  A Mainer on Actors’ Maine Accents

  Dave Lowell

  Although the dialogue and Maine accents ring true in King’s fiction, Hollywood seems to have a difficult time getting it right on film.

  Not only are Mainers usually portrayed in a stereotypical fashion (missing teeth, poor hygiene, uneducated and trapped in poverty), but the accents are often so far off the mark that Mainers are embarrassed.

  Only a handful of Hollywood actors have gotten it correct, but most butcher the accent completely, sounding more like a Scotsman than a true Mainer.

  Among those who have succeeded are Kathy Bates and David Strathairn in Dolores Claiborne. Strathairn who portrays Joe St. George is right on the money. Practically flawless. Ed Lauter’s accent is okay as Joe Camber in Cujo. Fre
d Gwynne’s is fairly convincing as Jud Crandall in Pet Sematary, and although purposely comical, Stephen King did a great job as Jordy Verrill in Creepshow, but the truth is, most actors simply fail when trying to tackle a true Maine accent. They are often so far over-the-top that the situation turns into a parody.

  94

  CELL

  2006

  It was an instant concept. Then I read a lot about the cellphone business and started to look at the cell-phone towers. So it’s a very current book, but it came out of a concern about the way we talk to each other today.

  —STEPHEN KING, PARIS REVIEW, FALL 2006

  Here’s a question for King fans: How much would it be worth to you to be fictionalized as a character in a Stephen King novel?

  For Pam Huizenga Alexander of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, that would be $25,100. But it wasn’t for her; it was for her father, who owns the Miami Dolphins. He appears in the novel Cell as one of the good guys, a construction worker whose specialty is explosives. But, of course, it being a King novel, he meets an untimely end, which is why King cautioned prospective bidders:

  One (and only one) character name in a novel called Cell, which is now in work.… Buyer should be aware that Cell is a violent piece of work, which comes complete with zombies set in motion by bad cell phone signals that destroy the brain. Like cheap whiskey, it’s very nasty and extremely satisfying.… In any case, I’ll require physical description of auction winner, including any nickname (can be made up, I don’t give a rip).

  The rest of us sprung for the book at its retail price of $26.95.