What Stephen King
Taught Me About Popularity

I have to begin with an admission: I can be a bit of a snob. I’m generally a reasonable person, and I pride myself on not being judgmental. But when it comes to popularity, I’m a snob. Since childhood, I’ve had a habit of avoiding the things everyone else seems to love.

Take music, for example. When the Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1964, I dismissed them as just another flash in the pan. Instead, I latched onto what I considered the more talented but lesser-known acts of the British Invasion, like Gerry and the Pacemakers, along with American bands like Paul Revere and the Raiders. Eventually, I came around to the Beatles, but even then I decided that George Harrison—rather than the more celebrated Paul McCartney or John Lennon—was the real heart of the band.

This tendency to turn away from what’s most popular has extended far beyond music. When colleagues raved about Game of Thrones, America’s Got Talent, or The Bachelor, I avoided the shows and congratulated myself on not being seduced by what I assumed were mind-numbing storylines. I steered clear of the “all things Harry Potter” phenomenon too, begrudgingly reading only the first book aloud to my kids. My list of snubs has included movies, actors, celebrity chefs, and even sports stars. Don’t get me started on Patrick Mahomes, the Super Bowl–winning quarterback who seems to endorse everything from shampoo to auto insurance.

But my most stubborn—and deliberate—snub was reserved for Stephen King. King has written 65 novels and novellas and more than 200 short stories. Nearly every idea he’s ever had seems to have been turned into a movie. And horror? The supernatural? I couldn’t imagine that much volume in that genre being worth my time.

Then my son Mack intervened. Mack is the most voracious reader I know. He devours history and biographies, including the three-volume, 3,500-page biography of Lyndon B. Johnson—cover to cover. By all measures, he’s a “serious” reader. And yet, he loves Stephen King and has read everything King has ever published.

After years of Mack urging me to give King a try, I finally gave in. On his recommendation, I started with Pet Sematary. To my surprise, I loved it. While the supernatural threads through the story, the gore I expected was minimal. Instead, it was the anticipation of it that built the suspense. The characters were vivid—some deeply likeable, others deliciously detestable—and the descriptions of place were rich and evocative. Most of all, the writing was superb: not a wasted word or phrase.

From there, I moved on to Carrie, King’s debut and perhaps his most iconic film adaptation. Then Mr. Mercedes. Now I’m racing through The Outsider. On my nightstand sit Holly and The Shining.

I’ve also just ordered On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, which Mack tells me is part autobiography, part master class. If Stephen King can teach me to let go of my snobbery, I figure he might also be able to teach me a thing or two about writing itself.

~ Leonard Abbeduto