Remember what I said about horror stories? You need daylight to sweep away the nightmares.
Now, imagine you have a story about a girl who gets lost in the woods. Where would you read it?
Yeah, right. I heard someone among you thinking of it: on the beach. Great idea!
Surely better than what I did.
When I started the reading of ‘The girl who loved Tom Gordon’, I had just arrived in a lonely B&B on the Alps. Lonely and surrounded by woods. Brilliant.
Any remotely intelligent person would have put that book down and read a magazine instead. Of course, I did not.
It’s Stephen King the one to blame, though. He trapped me into reading the whole book in one night. Because everytime I thought about closing it and getting to sleep, I realized that the silence was too silent, the dark was too dark and the empty room was way too empty.
Furthermore, the wind was blowing outside and each time I closed my eyes I felt like being alone, lost in the woods myself. Terrifying.
So, I had to keep on reading, to distract my mind from the frightening creatures that were hunting me, peeking from behind the dark behind the window.
I felt someway safer in the book, where nothing was going to hurt me. A silent spectator.
It was frightening – sure it was! – but I was just a witness to the horrible experience of that little girl.
That poor girl. She was just a kid, but at least she wasn’t me.
You want to know what is most upsetting about Stephen’s stories? The fact that they all start from one simple question: what if a rabid dog besieges a family closed in a car? What if a writer gets run over by a car on a snowy road in Maine? What if a writer’s block causes the man to go back to his old holiday house?
In this case, what if a little girl gets lost in the woods, while looking for a good place to pee? It’s maddening just to think about how easily this could actually happen.
I won’t say I never went back to the woods – I lived through the nightmare that night and I kind of exorcised it. Besides, I was firmly determined to enjoy my holiday.
I’ll tell you one thing, though: you ask me, the wood is no place for kids, unless you keep them on the leash – literally.
And if they have to pee…they keep it until the next shelter.
If you want to know more about this book: Goodreads
If you want to buy this book: Amazon