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The woman driving him to the book festival would not shut up.
“You are so great, Stephen King.”
“You are my favorite.”
Blah blah blah.
He had just started to tune her out when she said something about his novel, Misery.
“What was that? he asked.”I love that book,” she said. “That female lead character is my hero.”
He began sweating.
“But she kidnaps a famous author and treats him terribly.”
She frowned at him and mumbled.
Something in his feet began to hurt.
“Hey, aren’t we supposed to turn here to get to the festival?” he asked.
“Who says you’re going to the festival? I’m taking you home, my king of kings!”
Oh, god, he thought. This loon was inspired by his fictional loon.
He did the only thing he could think of: He grabbed copies of The Stand and It that were in his bag and hit her over the head with it.
He left her the copies, after autographing them – she was, after all, a fan – and put her by a bus stop bench and continued on toward the festival.
He decided this was the last year he was going to attend a stupid book festival in Washington D.C. on Halloween.
(This originally appeared at my blog.)
