hearts in atlantis.
Stephen King is kind of the AC/DC of authors. You know, you like AC/DC in high school because you just do. Then in college you get all intellectual and everything needs to be important and AC/DC is certainly not important. Then later you realize that AC/DC rocks and that's all that really matters.
At the airport the other day, I picked up Hearts In Atlantis. I hadn't read a King book in years and I was going to spend a lot of time in planes and airports so why not. It was that or one of the 29 political smear books on the bookshelves.
Our son Ian is 8 weeks old this weekend. And he is amazing. He's perfect. He's never been hurt, he's never been scared, he's never been taken advantage of, or lied to, or stolen from, or hated. His skin doesn't have a blemish on it. When I look at him I'm overwhelmed with love, pride, joy, hope... but in the back of my head I'm terrified that he has to grow up. I constantly find myself thinking please, can nothing really bad happen to him? Especially while he's young, while he doesn't understand.
Hearts In Atlantis isn't a horror novel. It follows a handful of characters from their 60's childhood, to college, to Vietnam, to the 90's. When one of the central characters, Carol, is twelve, a few older kids beat her up, get carried away, and really hurt her. And all I could do is remember junior high school and think this stuff really happens, that could be my kid. Same thing as some of the characters shipped off to Vietnam, same thing as their lives sort of emptied out afterwards.
It's just a Stephen King book but it really got to me for some reason. Childhood memories coupled with my hopes and fears for Ian, I guess.
Being a kid was the best. Kids can be horrible. Mobs are loaded guns. People like George Bush send our children off to watch each other get killed, and then to spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened and why.