This was probably 1958. I was at the Center Grammar School; Dave was at Stratford Junior High. Mom was… — Stephen King
This was probably 1958. I was at the Center Grammar School; Dave was at Stratford Junior High. Mom was working at the Stratford Laundry, where she was the only white lady on the mangle crew. That's what she was doing-- feeding sheets into the mangle-- while Dave constructed his Science Fair project. My big brother wasn't the sort of boy to content himself drawing frog-diagrams on construction paper or making the House of the Future out of plastic Tyco cups; Dave aimed for the stars.
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We're not even in the same year together, let alone the same room....except we are together. We're close.
My mother knew I wanted to be a writer (with all those rejection slips hanging from the spike on my bedroom wall, how could she not?), but she encouraged me to get a teacher’s credential “so you’ll have something to fall back on.
...reading in bed can be heaven, assuming you can get just the right amount of light on the page and aren't prone to spilling your coffee or cognac on the sheets.
