From a Buick 8

Title: From a Buick 8

Author: Stephen King

Publisher: Pocket Books (2002)

Genre(s): Fiction, Science Fiction, Horror

Length: 356 pages

Synopsis:  At a quiet Pennsylvania State Police post, there’s a secret in Shed B.  Under a tarp rests a midnight blue ’54 Buick that’s a good deal more than it seems.  For Ned Wilcox, the post has become a home away from home, the one place where he can cling to the memory of his father, Trooper Curt Wilcox, who was killed by a drunk driver.  He fits in amongst the men and women of the post, but now that he’s discovered the Buick in Shed B, he’s about to be taken into a new circle of trust.  From the points of view of those who were there, Ned will learn the story of the Buick and its impact on the troopers, his father, and now himself.

My Rating: 4 Stars

My Opinion: I’ve read some horror before, though it’s not generally my go-to genre.  Clive Barker’s got some wild stuff, but I actually hadn’t read a Stephen King book before.  Shocking, I know, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it.  Several of my coworkers were putting together an impromptu book club, and the text of choice was this one.  Of course, being a reader, I wanted in.  I didn’t actually own the book, though, so I had to wait to start until someone else had finished it, but I caught up soon enough.  It’s a quick read with an interesting cast of characters and a central mystery that’s both unspeakably weird and startlingly mundane.  As much about story-telling as it is about the horror of the Buick, it’s not as grim as I expected.  There was only one scene, actually, that really left me nightmare prone, but perhaps that’s because I’m a softy in some respects.  It’s good, though, not too complex for a quick summer read, and not so surface-skimming that I fail to care about the characters.  It’s also oddly thought-provoking, discussing the difficulties of believing what one cannot see and of conveying the truth of something with words alone.  It’s the perfect book for summer, I think, especially a summer like mine, spent in a cabin in the middle of the woods.  Who wouldn’t want a little scary story at bedtime?