Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
There are a few things that are taking up residence in my head that I can't get into here without blowing the lid off the series as a whole, but woooo-weeee, cowboy (or girl!) it's a doozy!
*giggles and rubs his hands together and is NOT at all surprised that the extended TV show that was supposed to DO THIS SERIES JUSTICE had been pulled*
So, who out there wants to see a wild mashup of westerns, fantasies, horrors, and science fiction?
What? Just me? No. Obviously not just me. But let's add one little detail, my friend number 19. Or should we also add my other friend 99? Or is it 1999? As in, we're gonna party like it's 1999? Or shall we draw back the curtain in the emerald tower and take a good long look at that Dodge Caravan?
I LOVE a good in-joke. I especially love great popular references used by a great writer who is just as much a FAN of popular culture as he is a creator of so much of it. Gimmie that Snitch! Oh, it must have been made by this fellow named Harry Potter...
Honestly, I didn't really have ANY clue as to what this book was REALLY supposed to be about when I first picked it up years ago. A big battle on the way to the Dark Tower? Yeah, sure, it is that, but when you start making the world super thin and the todash keeps sending you to New York City and you wish you had a godlike florist to protect the universe from zombies, vampires, and thugs who terrorize bookstore owners, you've got to start wondering why the WOLVES on the edge of End-World are such a mystery. And they are.
And I cry beg your pardon, but I LOVE me a good cyborg, thank ye sai.
The first time I read this book, I thought it was pretty fine. A bit long in the tooth with padre Calahan, mayhap, but once I'm in on the joke, I like it ALL just fine, now.
Bravo, Mr. King. Bravo.
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