Stephen King
Stephen King
Stephen Edwin Kingis an American author of contemporary horror, supernatural fiction, suspense, science fiction, and fantasy. His books have sold more than 350 million copies, many of which have been adapted into feature films, miniseries, television shows, and comic books. King has published 54 novels, including seven under the pen name Richard Bachman, and six non-fiction books. He has written nearly 200 short stories, most of which have been collected in book collections. Many of his stories are set in...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth21 September 1947
CityPortland, ME
Be true, be brave, stand All the rest is darkness.
It's strange how pain marks our faces, and makes us look like family.
Outside, a gusty October breeze was combing leaves from the trees and sending them across her backyard in colorful skitters.
Love among the ruins... I'll tell you something, my friend: Weird love's better than no love at all.
When I gave up dope and alcohol, my immediate feeling was 'I've saved my life, but there'll be a price because I'll have nothing that buzzes me any more'. But I enjoyed my kids. My wife loved me and I loved her. And eventually the writing came back and I discovered that the writing was enough. Stupid thing is that probably it always had been.
Friends. They aren’t any such thing as good friend or bad friend. Maybe there are just friend. People who stand by you when you're hurt and who helped you feel not so lonely. Maybe there are worth being scared for and hoping for and living for. Maybe worth dying for too. If that what has to be. No bad friends. Only people you want. Need to be with. People who build their houses in your heart.
The brain is a muscle that can move the world.
Just remember that Dumbo didn't need the feather; the magic was in him.
I didn't go to bars much. One drunken asshole was all I could handle and that was me. I wrote. I don't remember a lot of it.
The most important things to remember about back story are that (a) everyone has a history and (b) most of it isn’t very interesting.
Cats were the gangsters of the animal world, living outside the law and often dying there. There were a great many of them who never grew old by the fire.
My wife has told me since that I was hungover every mornng until about two in the afternoon, and from five until midnight I was drunk out of my mind. So she says there was this period of about three hours when she could talk to me like a rational human being...
To write is human, to edit is divine.
Might as well try to drink the ocean with a spoon as argue with a lover.