Stephen King On Writing Essay

For some reason, I find it difficult to express how much I enjoy reading Stephen King’s book, On Writing. I love learning about his life and the unbelievable journey that has brought him to this point. He lived a number of difficult years, worked at horrible jobs, but enjoyed every minute of his life because writing and horror movies were his escape. His brother seemed to be a huge influence in his life, encouraging him to continue pushing the envelope. Many of the details King discusses in his book, such as a love for horror movies, I can relate to quite well. Dracula, werewolf, and haunting movies were great, however, as soon as the sun went down it didn’t take an expert to scare the wits out of me. My brother practiced on a daily basis at becoming an expert. Dracula films happened to be my favorites. Dracula only came out at night and could hypnotize even the most unwilling, capable of turning himself into a bat and flying away at a moment’s notice, made him literally untouchable.
The two story flat where we lived had an entry from the kitchen up to a full floored attic that was the entire length of the house. Flashbacks from that evening begin at the foot of the stairs. I don’t recall exactly what we were doing, possibly playing hide and seek, but something was flying around the top of the stairs, slowly floating down to rest on one of the top steps. Being a tomboy and the brave one of the bunch, I tiptoed up the steps to have a look, thinking it was just a small bird. Surprisingly, whatever it was did not move as I approached; it just sat there. Horror struck me when I observed the tiny little ears protruding from its head. “It’s was a bat!” I screamed, as I nearly knocked my siblings over trying to escape the attic entryway, my brother and sisters on my heels. How had a bat gotten into our attack? It had to be