It is coming

When I was thirteen, in the summer of 1987, I got my hands on a copy of Stephen King's "It."

Before then, I truly did not understand how a book could be frightening the way a movie is. You read it as quickly or slowly as you want, so nothing is going to sneak up on you. I assumed that readers, unlike film audiences, have more control over how a book could shake them up.

Simplistic thinking, I guess.

Of course, I was wrong. "It" scared the hell out of me. I related to these characters so much because we were the same age. I started seeing things out of the corners of my eyes. Anyplace, a playground, a field, a group of trees or a street could be hiding the kind of vicious evil that murders children.

It has never left me, even thirty years later.

This book contributed significantly to how I see the world.

I am can only hope that the film will traumatize me all over again.