Misery by Stephen King

I was familiar with the premise of this book before I started it, and it didn’t seem very interesting, but once I started it I was surprised by how engrossing the story was. In a way, this is King’s own story, the story of a writer whose formidable talent never fails him, not even during the greatest crisis of his life. Whatever his critics say, King isn’t writing for them or even for his fans, he is writing because he has to, because it’s what he does, and it’s what he would do if he were in Paul Sheldon’s place. In my more creative moments I fancy myself a writer, but I don’t have a fraction of the gift King was born with. Once again I bow to the master.

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