Bluestockings

I'm currently readingThe Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, by Stephen King. It's a fantastically riveting tale, surpassing any and all expectation I entertained prior to the reading. I don't particularly like stories that take place in the outdoors - lost in the woods, lost at sea - at least, I don't care for them at the outset. But I'm usually snared in the end, caught with my jaw hanging and my pulse thudding as I plow through the pages, desperate to know what comes next, needing to discover if our brave hero will find his or her way back to civilization, wild to reach the climax, the final, epic showdown between Mother Nature and the main character, to see just who will emerge victorious.

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon is no exception. I avoided checking it out from the library, disheartened by the thought of a girl lost in endless forest and having no one to talk to and all the conflict arising from the hell Mother Nature gives her - fascinating, I'm sure, but I just don't go for those kind of books. But then the day came when I thought to myself, "It can't hurt. And if it does, I have a whole shelf of books I haven't yet read." I checked it out and sat down to read and half an hour later I've found myself a fifth of the way in, hooked. And with every passing page, it only gets better.

Until the first time the POV skews out of focus and King wrenches me from Trisha's POV for a moment to tell me what her mother and brother are thinking.

( WHAT THE-- )