Bag of Bones

I started reading Stephen King's Bag of Bones last night. I guess early this morning would be more accurate because I finished reading the Enchanted Land around one a.m. and then started Bag of Bones. I read it before, but I remember very little of it. I didn't like it when I first read it and I don't know why.

It's quite frightening. Around three a.m. I realized I was not going to get any sleep because I was too scared. The descriptions of what it's like to be a writer are spot on, the story is interesting, the characters are good, it's precisely the kind of story I like. I wish I could remember why I disliked it. I hope there is nothing really awful lurking and waiting for me. I mean that when I read Needful Things I was so upset by the plot that I vowed to never read it again. I hope I didn't do something like that and forget about my promise to myself.