If Stephen King Wrote Children's Books...They'd Still Be Scary as Hell!

Growing up in the 80's, I read every Stephen King book that I could get my hands on. I loved the magic of The Green Mile and the frightening premise of Thinner. And when in 2009, King released another monster-sized novel called, Under the Dome, I was thrilled. I read the book and, several years later, watched every episode of the show. But lately, as a mother with children, I moved away from King's scary books. As I was pulled into the world of child-friendly stories, I found myself wondering what life would have been like if Stephen King had written children's books.

Here I try to imagine what that would have looked like. Even when writing for kids, King's tales would remain macabre. After all, he is the master of horror...

Netflix Killed the Video Store

Netflix, I love you. I really, really do but--you killed the video store. And as I sit here with a glass of wine and a high-calorie snack, putting on another episode of my latest 'it' show, I can't help but remember how much I loved the video store. First, the mom and pop shop down the street. The one where I rented every slasher film--the good, the bad and the horrible--with forged parental notes. The one where I spent hours searching through movies filled with worlds so different from my own.  Okay, maybe not hours because usually the owner would kick us out after about twenty minutes. I loved that place, even the cantankerous owner and his equally grumpy wife. 

HGTV: The Drinking Game

I love HGTV. I love everything about it. It is, in fact, the safe channel for my kids. And by that I mean that when my husband is watching Cops, the news or any other totally inappropriate show with swearing/drugs and derelicts, I simply yell, "HGTV." He gets it. I also love the comfort, the familiarity, the predictability. 


They were everywhere for what felt like an eternity. They clothed the cool and fashionable mom at school drop off, the one who always seemed so together and had the impossible measurements of a Barbie doll. They looked equally as fabulous on the twenty-something who helped you pick them out, promising you’d be able to pull them off, too. She was wrong.

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