My first time reading a serious book was with King. I was 11 and I forced my mom to buy me Misery. Wich blew my mind.
With King, I discovered sex, drugs and terror.
With King, I doscovered what crazy meant. And got truly scared of hotels.
And with King I discovered the true meaning of epic. But that’s another review.

Stephen King brought me to comics – no kidding, the first comic book I ever bought was the first issue of Gunslinger Born – and I was more than happy to see that The Stand was was going to be adapted as a comics. So I began reading the Stand at the beginning of the summer – and haven’t avanced much, due to my constant comic reading, really.
But still, I’m maybe two arcs early with the comic.

First, the art was stunning. Perfect realism, I couldn’t expect nothing less from Mike Perkins, wich I’ve been reading all summer in Captain America.
And the story was great too. Once I got over the fact that this wasn’t the novel, and the way they cut some scenes was just the best way to do it in comic form, I was great, it was great, morbid and entertaining. I read the whole thing and when the issue ended, I was like “What?! Already?!?” And it happens rarely. I was coughing and blowing my nose during the whole read, too, stupid weather…or…wait…

My epic-meter is feeling that this is going to be a goddamn epic run. Oh yeah.