A two-part review of “Cell” and Stephen King’s “On Writing, a Memoir of the Craft”

Part I:

Forget the circle of life, how about the shotgun of shoulda.  Sometimes you have an inspiration on writing because a single little thing pops up on your radar and you see it and you are off and running.  Sometimes a friend says, “You know you should write about…” Sometimes you just have to get some words down and you hope the topic comes to you after you flounder a bit in the writing pool.  But then there are times when the universe gives you so many head slaps you just know you best get to that topic, even if it doesn’t make any sense as to why now.  This post is one of the latter.

It started out with a tiny reminder. In this case, it was when I saw Stephen King’s “On Writing” (a book I had not looked at for years) and it sort of called to me.  I ignored it, didn’t even move the book and went on with other issues that seemed obviously more important. 

Apparently it wasn’t.  About twenty minutes later I found myself reading an article in a magazine that cited the illustrious Mr. King’s book on the craft of writing as “one of the best books on writing ever”  (or as I saw it at the time), a bit of silly sucking up to a guy who sells a ton of books.  I ignored the double tap at my head and went on to something critical like writing a post that “needed done”.  The post got done but it wasn’t great.  Then my web “Mistress with a whip” scolded me, “You need another review”.  Sure, get to that right away, but gosh I am writing a novel, sorry that is more important.

The writing really was less than sub par; just another tap.  But I can be a bit hard headed, (which is where I am sure my kids get it).  So, I ignored it once again by going to the bookstore, after-all “someone” once said if you want to be a writer you have to “write a lot and read a lot”.  At this point, the intuitive in you could guess who said that and where.  Check back with me later and I will give you the answer.  In the bookstore, there was, a novel, hard back, on sale for SIX BUCKS.  Just my kind of deal, and it was doing what I like best from a book on the shelf; it was calling to me before I even saw the title. 

There it was, all bold and interesting, “Cell” by Stephen King; PING on the head.  I bought the book to avoid his other book.  I just didn’t want to do another review.

AND YET here I am, and this two-part post is a review of two things, the main review of Stephen King’s “On Writing, A memoir of the craft” and the embedded review is of “Cell” a sort of recent novel by Stephen King.

I bought “On Writing” back in 2000, and read it with the mindset of a guy who wanted to be a writer.  I hadn’t really finished anything of significance or scope.  I was someone who wanted to know more about writing; how my pre-conceptions matched to a writing god’s view of writing.

Still, even with hero worship and a zillion books sold, a writer isn’t always a teacher, and even a teacher isn’t always a great author of how-to books, so, I or others, can be forgiven for asking the question of “who the hell is this guy, this novelist, to tell me about writing?”  “Ok, fine”, comes the answer, "This guy is a master of hell envisioned.  He conjures Satan’s minions and brings them to you via hard backs and paperback books.  For those reasons he gets the props to pontificate at length on the art and craft of writing, at least in his section of the bookstore.

The next thing inquiring minds should ask is, “Who the hell is Plot Dog to review a book or writing by this master of the craft?”  Good question.  The answer is, I am the guy, the reader, who has pumped tons of money into Stephen King’s pockets, but purchasing his books and abiding by the Writer/Reader contract that I will pay if he writes well.  I mean I did pay full retail for “On Writing”, so I get to bitch if bitching is to be done.

Now it is useful, I think, to remember “On Writing” was written after some son of a bitch tried to erase Stephen King from the planet with a life eraser shaped like an out of control van.  When I heard about the accident I felt like we readers had barely avoided the fiction based equivalent of a Stevie Ray Vaughan event.  If fate could ruin music like that, well, it could be done to print by whacking a guy whom I really thought was one of the best phrase turners I had ever read.  Not to mention the fact that you just have to read “IT” to know why clowns have always felt scary or “The Stand” to faint when someone sneezes near you.  This man is an otherworldly writer, so I as so ready to love, “Cell” and take another look at “On Writing”

I read “Cell” first.  I read it on my sofa, and started with great hope to see those well-constructed words.  I read in (guilty admission) the tub, I read on the porch, I read at the doctor’s office, I read everywhere I could.  I am not going to try to fool you, I wanted to love this book and I didn’t.  I am also not going to bullshit you, this guy writes SO much better than I do I shouldn’t complain, but then I am the customer and the customer is always right, except when they aren’t.  Besides, fear not, I will suck up in a bit.

“Cell”, just didn’t feel good to me.  It felt too constrained, too focused, it left too many things out for the storyline to resonate with me.  The words were fine, but Stephen King isn’t about fine, he is about unique phrases and “Cell” just didn’t have them in the same measure as I had gotten used to.  I didn’t fear picking up my cell phone; the fear wasn’t real.  I didn’t feel terrible for the protagonists, I didn’t worry that the monsters were coming; I just wanted someone to finish off either the mutants or the good guys.  But I slugged through hoping against hope that “Cell” would redeem itself.  Oh sure, darkness, death, mystical bad guys, all signs of a good story, but nothing ever got polished to Mr. King’s usual perfection. To me, the writing was similar to the zombie like gait, suffered by the "monsters" the inhabit Cell.  The prose stumble shuffles along without clear motive.  The words seem like purposeless, staggering pedestrians; no more alive than the almost dead which inhabit the novel.

I never picked up clearly on the: who did this, why did they, and why we should care? I came away with a bit of a wish that the villains should have won and let the planet become something better, where the story might end up with more impact.  I wondered how this negative view of the novel would impact my perspective on the book, “On Writing”…. (See Part II tomorrow)