I can’t believe I’m about to write the following sentence. Stephen King’s latest doorstop of a novel, Under The Dome, is ponderous, predictable and, worst of all, boring. And this is coming from one of the biggest Stephen King fans on the planet. Heck. I even read From a Buick 8 and liked it, [...]]]> by Richard

I can’t believe I’m about to write the following sentence. Stephen King’s latest doorstop of a novel, Under The Dome, is ponderous, predictable and, worst of all, boring. And this is coming from one of the biggest Stephen King fans on the planet. Heck. I even read From a Buick 8 and liked it, but this latest forest killer is just plain awful.

Not only was this bad, but I think it’s broken me of my automatic purchasing of Stephen King novels. I had no idea what Under The Dome was about. I just ordered it because I love his novels. When it arrived, I discovered its length and the fact that this was a book he’d tried to write many years before and I began to get a bad feeling about it.

Turns out, my bad feeling was fully justified. Let’s start with the most noticeable thing; it’s length. This puppy could have been put to bed at a third of the length if it weren’t for the fact that Stephen King loves his characters. He stuffs the book full of them and lets us know the backstory of almost every single one of them. And, not only that, he also documents just about every second of every day that the New England town of Chester’s Mill spends trapped under an unexplainable (to them, but not – unfortunately – to us), invisible and impenetrable dome.

Each of the approximately one thousand, nine hundred and fifty three characters gets some quality speaking time and, each time one of them opens his or her mouth, they get to spout some by-now clichéd Stephen King dialogue. Words are changed around and then repeated again and again as if this were a new technique. Some event happens once and then it’s thereafter referred to as “the famous” fill in the blank. Basically it’s Stephen King at his he-really-needs-an-assertive-editor worst.

Once the characters find they are trapped inside the Dome, we’re allowed a look around at the skeletons in the closet, particularly the closet of the local bigwig Big Jim Rennie. It’s Rennie who, when the Dome comes down, begins to take draconian measures to grab power. It’s also revealed that Rennie, along with other town leaders, have been running the country’s largest meth lab near the local radio station. At the time of the book, the only person out there with the highly flammable meth chemicals and enough propane to fuel a battleship, is a religiously crazy meth smoker. What happens next isn’t really a surprise if you think for more than two seconds.

Finally, we find out who or what dropped the Dome on Chester’s Mill. Once I found out, though, I began to beg for mercy. Surely it couldn’t be what I thought it was. It was. It was hoary and dusty when Star Trek used it way back in the 1960s. This trope hasn’t improved with age.

No, I think Under The Dome has definitely given me something to think about. Mainly, why did I buy this thing without checking it out first.

I’m giving this book one (1) dude out of five, if only because I got a little exercise lugging the thing around for a week; a week I’ll never get back. Don’t waste your time or money on this book. Seriously, life is too short.

You can find this review, along with thousands of other, on a great book site, Novelspot. It’s a fantastic site, full of book lovers sharing that love with anyone who’ll listen. You can find all books reviewed here at Novelspot as well.

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Yes. Another warning. Just because I feel like being nice to you all.

Here it is. Valentine’s Day is coming and coming fast. Get working on your gift and right now.

True story, dudes. I’ve been together with my wife, known to me as She Who Might Be Reading So I’ll Speak Nicely Of Her, for [...]]]> by Richard

Yes. Another warning. Just because I feel like being nice to you all.

Here it is. Valentine’s Day is coming and coming fast. Get working on your gift and right now.

True story, dudes. I’ve been together with my wife, known to me as She Who Might Be Reading So I’ll Speak Nicely Of Her, for more than two decades and she still has harsh words to say about our first Valentine’s Day.

“Our first Valentine’s Day, he got me absolutely nothing,” she sneers to her friends, her relatives, my relatives, my friends, strangers passing on the street if the mood strikes her. “But he learned. The next one he got me a nice Claddagh ring. He won’t let me down again.”

The last is said in a menacing whisper, with a significant glance shot toward me.

Yes. I’ve learned. I have the scars to prove it.

Don’t let this happen to you.

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The ’80s have a lot to answer for. Flock of Seagulls hair. Parachute pants. M.C. Hammer. The A Team.

Okay, yeah. I’ll admit I did have a pair of parachute pants and did watch The A Team on television, but still I’m glad to leave it in the past. Far, far in the past.

But now [...]]]> by Richard

The ’80s have a lot to answer for. Flock of Seagulls hair. Parachute pants. M.C. Hammer. The A Team.

Okay, yeah. I’ll admit I did have a pair of parachute pants and did watch The A Team on television, but still I’m glad to leave it in the past. Far, far in the past.

But now Hollywood is digging up the corpse of the ’80s, shocking it with cheap, second-hand lightning and resurrecting zombified versions of already teetering properties.

To whit: They’re actually remaking The A Team as a feature-length movie released in theaters. I kid you not.

I shudder to think what’s coming next. Rainbow Pony: The Revenge: This Time It’s Personal?

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