Dairy of a Madman

You know how it ends, and quickly find out how it begins, if you’re paying attention. Is it worth the time?

Blaze is the latest from Stephen King, writing as Richard Bachman. That name was retired decades ago, though this marks the second “posthumous” release from King’s alter-ego. The manuscript is one that was thought lost, or perhaps just forgotten, and King refers to it in his prologue as a “trunk novel.” He’s happy enough with it to release it (when he probably never need lift another finger and yet still live and die a very wealthy man), but still hesitant enough to make excuses up front.

In that same preface, he drops a spoiler or two — nothing that can’t be inferred from his previous body of work, or the plot summary on the book cover. And so you know the ending (or the gist of it) right up front, unless you’re as sometimes-dense as the title character. The beginning blows past quickly enough, and there’s the usual course of things, start to finish. This is no Memento here, either; nothing surprising or twisty waiting for you in the two-hundred-odd pages.

So why spend the eight or ten hours in the middle?

There are three certainties in life, the saying goes: birth, death, and taxes. The third, if you’re slippery or lucky enough, is negotiable; the first two, no so much. And for the mass of people, you can guess the middle: school, teen angst, marriage, kids, boring job, moments of utter pleasure and indescribable pain, and then a long, maybe-deserved dirt nap.

Is it worth the time?

Too many people — myself included, far too often — get wrapped up in the finish line, the conclusion, the stopping point. How does it end? When? Is it peaceful, violent, nondescript? We get so caught up in the details that, once they reveal themselves, will no longer matter, that we forget to pay attention to everything between here and there. We miss the first kiss, the thrill of solving a small problem on the way to completing a bigger task, the taste of a well-cooked meal, the small compliments and the microscopic moments.

Blaze’s plot is straight-ahead, point A to point B. King’s strengths certainly include the occasional twist or surprise (really, who honestly saw the end of the seven-volume Dark Tower series coming?), but his real talent is the travel between beginning and end, no matter how pedestrian or mundane.

It’s a talent that we should all learn to recognize, to appreciate, and to strive to cultivate in our own lives.