"11/22/63" by Stephen King

I’ll be honest: reading 11/22/63 was not my idea. But back in October of 2024 when I was breaking my stubborn promise never to read Stephen King, my habit of bringing books to rehearsals gained the attention from one particular, friendly, rosy cheeked, bespectacled old man that I adore. He forcibly lent me one book once before that I attempted to read, then pretended to read, then returned with the same “mmm” sound you might make to an old lady at a potluck whose hopeful eyes cannot be crushed, but whose casserole cannot be complemented. Needless to say I didn’t really trust his recommendations. But this sweet gentleman noticed The Body and brought me the massive tome that is 11/22/63.

I sat on this book for at least two, maybe three months. I promised myself I would at least attempt it. Then I promised myself I would finish every book I started in 2025. And then those two promises collided, and I balked at the 849 page count (maybe I could skip the afterword…). And then I decided I had to finish before choir resumed so I could return the book and not waste any more of my year on Stephen King. So after reading a few reviews to make sure I could really sink myself into this journey, I commenced a marathon on January 12 with hopes of finishing by choir rehearsal on February 3.

Here is what happened: I started the book worried that Jake Epping or Al Templeton or George Amberson would be the spitting image of old-man fiction with old-man emotional intelligence and old-man politics. I fell into the adventure without realizing and started covering ground without looking at page numbers. My free time was gleefully spent hiding away consuming this novel rapidly. I finished on January 31 and I finished both with heartache for the main character and withdrawal from the story.

Some reviews say that King ruined the end, but I think those people don’t know how to let life be beautiful in its pain and I don’t think there was any other way to end. Many reviews say that this novel stands out from the rest of his work. It’s considered sci-fi, historical fiction, not really horror. At its core, this book is a love story that broke my heart. Page 616 says it best: