I wish I could say that I tried harder to get through Pet Semetary
before giving it up, that I carried it with me, that I read it in
those stolen moments of banality, which I do with most books, but
the fact is I didn't. And that says much about why I've decided to
put it down unfinished.
It's not that the story is a bad idea. Stephen King's story of the
Creed family -- new to Maine and a life near Bangor -- is pretty
clever and has enough going on that it should be interesting. They
move in, they argue about how to explain death to their children,
their cat dies and is born again with a mean streak, then there son
Gage dies and all hell breaks loose.
It should be creepy (I remember the movie being creepy when I was
younger), and it probably would be if I could go on, but I just
don't care.
When I am reading it I enjoy it well enough (it has been my walking
home from jogging book), but once I put it down I don't really want
to go back. I'm not sure why, although I think it might be have
something to do with it just not frightening me. Indeed, nothing by
King frightens me...ever!...and when I am reading a horror I want
more than creepy and readable, I want freaky-to-the-core,
make-it-hard-to-sleep-late-at-night,
compel-me-to-keep-going-in-spite-of-myself scary. And King never
seems to do that.
Thus ends my third attempt at reading King. I am sure I will try
again a few years from now (something always pulls me back), but
after book one of The Dark Tower underwhelmed me and Pet Semetary
went onto my unfinished shelf, I realized it was time to concede my
indifference and move on once again.
Sorry King fans...he's just not my bag.