I give it 4 out of 5
The start was kind of slow....but it was interesting enough to keep me reading.
It's about a widow named Lisey, her late husband Scott Landon, was a famous writer, specializing in horror stories.
At the beginning, I thought Lisey was crazy. She is hearing her dead husbands voice and also get a visit from a nutter, who insists she give up her husbands unpublished works, or else Lisey will get hurt. Reminds me a bit of 'Secret Window'
(The main character in that S.K. novel also hears voices inside his head and gets a strange visit from a man named 'Shooter')
Anyways Lisey's 3 sisters also play a part in the story and one of them is mentally unstable.
what annoyed me:
I didn't like the way the story kept dragging on with too many details...I hate when he does that! lol I have a short attention span and it's hard for me to stay focused. I kind of got annoyed at Lisey and Scott's secret language...ie...SOWISA, everything the same, blood bools and pie bald side among others.
I also didn't enjoy reading about Scott's childhood. I know its fiction, but it was so twisted I found it hard to read at times, especially when his brother gets the 'bad gunky'. But this is S.K were talking about, he does write about nasty horrible things, so being grossed out can be expected :P
what I liked:
Scott & Lisey's love story. And I liked the ending, and how she reads "Lisey's Story" because I was wondering what ever happened to Scott's dad.
And the way he leaves her the story for her to find and read on her own. And 'the african'.
I like the idea of BooyaMoon. I also liked the relationship between Lisey and her sister Amanda. I like how Amanda and Scott are also connected by BooyaMoon too.
'She lay there a long time, remembering a hot August day in Nashville and thinking -- not for the first time -- that being single after being double so long was strange shite, indeed. She would have thought two years was enough time for the strangeness to rub off, but it wasn't; time apparently did nothing but blunt grief's sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced. Because everything was not the same. Not outside, not inside, not for her. Lying in the bed that had once held two, Lisey thought alone never felt more lonely than when you woke up and discovered you still had the house to yourself. That you and the mice in the walls were the only ones still breathing.'-Liseys Story Stephen King
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