Tag Archives: Stephen King

Visiting the Stanley Hotel

StanleyHotel_TheShining3StanleyHotel_TheShining4StanleyHotel_TheShining5StanleyHotel_TheShining6StanleyHotel_TheShining8StanleyHotel_TheShining10StanleyHotel_TheShiningStanleyHotel_TheShining2StanleyHotel_TheShining7StanleyHotel_TheShining11StanleyHotel_TheShining12StanleyHotel_TheShining13A few months ago I traveled to Colorado. The Rocky Mountain National Park, rivers, lakes, animals, and the Stanley Hotel.

The Shining ranks high on my list of favorite books as well as favorite movies, and when my family announced our trip would be to Colorado, I knew I had to visit the hotel where Stephen King drew all of his inspiration for such a horrifically amazing book.

The hotel was everything I imagined. Memorabilia of the movie was scattered about the hotel, photographs of animals that were spotted on the property during the midnight hours and a display of butterflies, all of which were dead. I’m not sure if this was done purposely, to create an eerie atmosphere, or if they all just happened to die at the same time.

The Stanley Hotel wasn’t all about horror- the vintage decor was gorgeous, the staircases kept my attention and the Steamers Cafe had amazing desserts.

The best part about the Stanley? Every television has one channel that continuously plays the Shining. xx


Back to basics

Is July really a week away? It’s hard to believe six months ago I was writing my new years resolutions. After rereading everything I felt so inspired to do in 2014, I realized some items on my list had been neglected.

1. I haven’t finished Doctor Sleep yet. What? It’s been, a while. Since January 23, when I received the book for my birthday. I must get on it.

2. Writing. Oh, how my writing has suffered! I have not one journal to account for the months of February to present day. I purchased (well James purchased) a journal for me today at World Market. Ahhhh! I love it! I must snap a pic sometime. Perhaps tomorrow. It’s wonderful.

3. Being Spontaneous. Today that was a total win. James and I were sitting on our new couch, which I must photograph as well, and we decided to make a movie that started in 15 minutes. After arriving at the movie theater and gasping at the amount of cars that flooded the parking lot, we spontaneously went to World Market, and then spontaneously picked up food. Very, very spontaneous and I am left with the high of the spontaneity.

So far, so good.


I write like!!!

I just became aware of the site I write like and instantly plugged in two different types of my writing- fiction and non fiction.

The fiction piece I submitted was:

“As if losing my hair wasn’t enough, I was beginning to lose my memory. What day was it? Trash littered the floor and the calendar had long been forgotten. Sometimes, when my body was cooperating and I could find the courage to, I’d sit out on the porch but at the first sight of a human I would scurry back into my cave. Why my mind must be tortured with thoughts of paranoia and anxiety, I don’t know but it was tearing me apart.
Food was a distant thought. My stomach surely has shrunk to less than half its normal size and with meals no longer a necessity, I could find no logical reason to interact with others. One would think that I’d have at least one distant relative or fairly close acquaintance but sadly I have no one but myself. I believe I cannot be saved.”

And I was taken to this

I write like

!!! I love Stephen King, as some of my other posts hint to, and his style of writing has been an inspiration.

The nonfiction piece I submitted was:

“I come to these keys in an attempt to avoid a potential hell. My eyes may very well be sunken into my skull for I feel I have no human qualities that could distinguish me from a corpse. Normally, I would be ecstatic for the liquid stored away in the vicinities of my freezer however the drunken happiness that I will be incapable of remembering is not sufficient for the main fact that my emotions will exponentially grow and foolish antics will begin, antics I do not wish to make myself vulnerable to.
The peak will leave me content for the hour, but the sole reason for not consuming the liquid is the never ending downfall that will leave me incapacitated.
I feel as though I have already fallen down the pit.”

Yes, quite depressing, and I was quickly told I write like…

David Foster Wallace

David Foster Wallace, a deceased author I recently gained knowledge about during my creative non fiction class. The man wrote amazingly and he gave speeches on sustaining happiness in ones life, yet he committed suicide. Many were angered that he was not capable of taking his own advice, but for anyone who’s fallen into the darkest corridors of depression, you know that sometimes you can’t take your own advice anymore, even if you’ve been desperately trying for years. It’s bittersweet that my writing style was compared to his.

Well, I don’t know how the website reaches these conclusions, but I found it beyond entertaining and wish to send the information onto my teacher.

Alcohol and writing

“Instead of going to the bar, where dark shadows sat sampling the tasty waters of oblivion…”
Stephen King, The Shining

As soon as I read this statement, I knew Stephen King must have suffered with alcoholism throughout his life. I quickly researched and found this:

“In 1999 the satirical newspaper The Onion published an article, allegedly by King, which stated that he could not remember writing The Tommyknockers or several other novels because “[a]fter your 50 or 60th one, it’s all kind of a blur.”[94] Although the article’s premise satirized his very prolific writing output, King’s alcohol and drug addictions were so serious during the 1980s that, as he acknowledged in On Writing in 2000, he indeed cannot remember writing The Tommyknockers and many others published during the decade.[21][16] Shortly after the novel’s publication King’s family and friends staged an intervention, dumping evidence of his addictions taken from the trash including beer cans, cigarette butts, grams of cocaine, Xanax, Valium, NyQuil, dextromethorphan (cough medicine) and marijuana, on the rug in front of him. As King related in his memoir he then sought help, quit all forms of drugs and alcohol in the late 1980s, and has remained sober since.[16] The first novel he wrote after quitting drugs and alcohol was Needful Things.[95]”

According to Wikipedia.

When King writes of the struggles his character, Jack, had with alcohol, I found them to be so detailed that only one who has battled with alcoholism themselves could write such words.