Just After Sunset

I haven’t always been a big fan of short stories. During my high school years, they seemed like additional ways for our teachers to torture students already loaded down with hours of homework. But since we had to read and respond to them in order to graduate, we naturally acquiesced. It wasn’t until I got to college that one of my professors introduced me to the writings of the late Flannery O’Connor. From there, I was hooked. Her imagery was vivid, her attention to detail was exquisite, and the endings that came out of nowhere were memorable. She made the process seem quite easy—or so I thought. A few years later, I tried my hand at writing my own short story—and quickly found out that I had a long way to go before I reached the level of the masters of the genre.


So when I learned that renowned author Stephen King was about to release a series of short stories, I was immediately intrigued. Admitted, the only work of his I’ve read was Misery, but it’s one of the few titles I distinctly remember. Nevertheless, I found the new collection, entitled Just After Sunset, at the local bookstore (it has a cover that will play tricks with your eyes) and am curious to see what’s inside.


What might it include? Interesting characters in challenging situations? Emotionally-charged plotlines? Trips that are out of the ordinary? Each is a real possibility.


According to the title description, the stories are going to remind the reader that “nothing is quite as it appears.” Sounds a lot like life, huh? We would love to be able to script our entire destinies while on Earth, but life rarely goes according to our plans. That’s because we are not our own; God not only created us, he knows the plans and has the blueprints for our existence. To that end, he makes sure there’s a reason for everything—even the minutest details of our day. Trusting him to handle our lives for us would be wise.


Now that the sun has gone down, it’s time to start reading Just After Sunset. I’m sure Mr. King would have it no other way.