K - King, Stephen

Or, possibly a better title would be “How I Totally Ruined My Writing Career Before it Even Got Started.”

Some things you should know before I start this post. I worked in the UMaine catering system for the entire time I was a student there, so I had the unique opportunity to meet several famous people in my four year stint. Stephen King is a huge supporter of the UMaine system, and every year they do several catered events with him. But one in particular is in his particular honor. This is the one I’m talking about. Other things you should know, I am not a big fan of S.K’s writing style. Or rather, to be fair, his early writing style as I’ve not read any of his recent stuff.  Also, I am a big dork. But this will come out on its own. On to my Story. All events are true. Really. I am this much of a dork. Also, sorry for the length, but hopefully it will be amusing...

So there I was, Senior in College. Minding my own business, working hard at the Stephen King function. Chopping Veggies for a crudite tray and thinking about the crazy assignment that we had due in our Modern English Lit class. I mean really, who studies Jack Kerouac and Stephen King in one semester. Gag. Hurl. The kitchen was fairly low key. All the food had made it upstairs, and now we were just doing a few back-up trays and trying to get a bit ahead on tomorrow's functions. When in walks this guy. Now, this isn’t a big deal. People walk in and out of this kitchen all the time. And this guy was no exception. Jeans, plaid kinda wrinkly shirt. But what was odd was he just stopped by my prep table and started chatting with me. Ummm. Weirdo.

    I was fairly sure he wasn’t from the function upstairs as it was a black tie. And nope, no suit. Definitely not a black tie type guy. And I swear to god if he keeps eating my prep work he’s going to lose a finger.
    “So.” He says, all casual like. “What are you going to school for?”  Which, if anyone has ever gone to college is THE most annoying question on the face of the planet.
    “English lit, creative writing. Fourth year.” I answered. Probably more abruptly than I meant to. But I was busy, I had shit to do! And he was eating my prep!
    “Really? That’s what I went here for. Which writers are you studying?”
    “Jack Kerouac and Stephen King. It’s been interesting.”
    “Interesting how? What don’t you like about Jack?”
    “Personally I think it’s a bit of ‘emperors new clothes’ syndrome going on with his writing. No one really understands it, but no one wants to admit it.”
    To which he laughs. And then asks.
    “Well, what don’t you like about King?”
    At this point my Boss came around the corner, heard the question and started making slashing motions across his throat and crazy eyes at me. I totally ignored him.
    “King? I don’t like him because all his characters are the same from book to book. Plot? Same. Every book I could tell you basically how it's going to start and end. There’s no real drive for me to give a shit about anything that goes on.”
    During this heartfelt rant this man’s eyebrows were getting higher and higher into his hairline and then when I was done he kinda coughs and says,
    “Well. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I write a book. Thanks.”

Oh yes.

He looks Nothing like his pictures.