the culmination of the affair

“What is the most inopportune time you’ve been struck with an idea to write about?” some girl asked of Stephen King. He decided to pass on that question without giving a clear response.

Sometimes I wish that I could have some kind of tape-recording chip implanted in my head, that would have the ability to record my thoughts. Because honestly, you guys would not believe the kinds of things I think of. Not that they’re necessarily brilliant, or earth-shattering. I swear to God though, I’ve “written” some amazingly well-said things in my head. And by the time I find myself with the means to write it down, it escapes me. As it is, I wrote this entry in my head while doing the dishes, and it came out perfectly, and now I feel it to be nothing but utter crap. Furthermore, I forget my point.

Yesterday I had one of the most awesome experiences of my life. I was able to go and see my idol speak. Hear him read from one of his short stories. It still amazes me that I was in the same room as Stephen King (albeit with 6000 other people). But. It was Stephen King. I honestly can’t even describe to you what that was like, unless you’ve ever gotten the opportunity to meet your own idol.

My love affair with him is ten years old, and began in a Pet Sematary. Truth be told, I have no special reason to idolize him. Sure, he’s written a lot of books, but.. it’s not like I can claim that his books are the reason I’m such an avid reader to this day. Its not that he’s written anything that’s really changed the way I view the world, or my life. And yet… seeing him on that stage… as he raised one weathered hand to his pale face to adjust his glasses, and turned another page; as he continued reading in his soft New England accent a story that I already knew… I felt a lump form in my throat. This. This was it. The only thing in the world that could possibly have made me happier would have been standing right next to him. Touching his arm. Looking into his eyes. Had that happened, I truly would have begun to cry. As it was, I was surprised I didn’t.

Oh yea. J.K. Rowling and John Irving were there as well. *laugh* Let me just say, Ms. Rowling has some excellent taste in shoes. I think her slightly dry British humor was lost on most of the audience that was there specifically for her though–a lot of young’uns there for her–in fact, I got the feeling that the majority of the audience was there for her. She appears to have a rather large cult following 😉 And I had the pleasure of falling in love with Mr. Irving and his deep resounding voice and sophisticated good looks *laugh* before ever having the opportunity to read a single one of his books. I am now, however, immersed in “The World According to Garp” and have “A Prayer for Owen Meany,” from which he read last night, to read next.

Anyway, that’s all for now. My thoughts have turned to other things.