mostly david ephgrave

I finished reading a novel this morning that has had me gripped for weeks. That book was Doctor Sleep; the sequel to Stephen King’s never-see-topiary-the-same-way-again horror classic, The Shining.  Until a month ago, I hadn’t read one of his books for years . I’d assumed they were just for teenagers; how wrong could I be? They're not Point Horrors by a long chalk. I resumed my love for his work with the appropriately titled ‘Revival’, which I withdrew from the library on a whim. A few weeks before this, my wife asked me if I fancied reading the follow-up to The Shining, and I said that I didn’t. I then saw it in the library when I was at a loss for book, and thought ‘Sod it’ – so sod it, I did. Latter-day sequels are best approached with caution, particularly when the original is highly regarded; Blues Brothers 2000, The Green Green Grass and Still Open All Hours spring to mind. At least Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan nearly saw the demise of the sleazy, bad-accente...