Tears in Joyland - My thoughts on Stephen King and his recent novel 'Joyland'

So, ten minutes or so ago, I finished Stephen King's 'Joyland', and I am so moved by its tragic and bittersweet majesty, that I just have to write about it. If I don't, I could sit here weeping like a baby. You will find no spoilers here, but that book moved me more than any other for a very, very long time.

First things first: wow.

I've been a Stephen King ever since I read 'Salem's Lot' as a petrified 13 year old, quaking in my bed, dreading having to get up and put out the light. Terrifying as that first experience was, I've been hooked on horror ever since. As years went by, I worked my way through all of King's classic work, with perhaps 'The Shining' being the highlight for me, closely followed by 'The Stand'. Thrill after thrill, terror after terror followed, and for many years, he could do no wrong.

But then, somewhere in the mid 90s it all started to go horribly wrong. His novels failed to grip me, often seeming like horror-by-numbers, perhaps even that King essentially didn't really care. Anything with his name on it was going to sell, so what the hell? By the time the millennium dawned, many of his novels had gone from steady mediocrity into the murky depths of the almost unreadable; 'Cell', 'The Duma Key', and the atrocious ending to the already deteriorating 'Dark Tower' series, led me to adandon King, so I thought, for good.

I only picked up 'Joyland' because it's part of the 'Hard Case Crime' series I've been enjoying lately, featuring hard-boiled crime fiction from old masters like Donald Westlake and Mickey Spillane, as well as badass modern noir from the likes of the delectable Christa Faust. Well, how glad I am that I did give my old hero another chance. 'Joyland' is a beautiful, funny, tragic and at times devastating ride; full of incredibly well-drawn characters, and a  magical setting. A park 'selling fun' at the end of an era as the corporations grew ever more powerful and squeezed out the independents, a time when the magic of a carnival was real, not carefully planned and scripted. A time that is now long gone, but, thanks to the imagination of Stephen King, is relived in all it's glory.

Looks like I'm getting back on that ride I stepped on as a scared kid all those years ago.