I’m so glad we had this time together,
Just to have a laugh, or sing a song.
Seems we just got started and before you know it
Comes the time we have to say, ‘So long.’— Carol Burnett
You cannot help but feel that the events and experiences in our lives have already been played out for others who were around long before we were. Everything is repeated over and over again, through the generations, since the beginning; maybe in different forms, but at the heart of it, there is no difference. We think we know things. We think we adapt, and learn as we go through it all. And we do. But none of it is new. The fabric of it is not new, and our ancestors went through it all before us.
It feels as if there is a single strand of some unknown force running through the scope of human emotion, and what we call the Human Condition. Take away light, and sound and form; what we have left is resonance. Someone in 1853 stumbles on a rock in the road and falls, thereby creating a shift in the flow of energy. We are born out of seemingly trivial decisions, and on the surface, random acts; and we cannot help but wonder if this is all by design, or some chaotic, haphazard and unattended blast of energy.
And we face it, perplexed and enlightened and reborn and broken, and we come alive, and we die the slow death, and as children we gallop into the ocean, and build castles of sand on the beach, and we watch the tide take it all away, and we long for that lost summer of 1960-something, and for the boy or girl who got away and still think about decades later, and somewhere in all of that, we honor those who came before by making the same mistakes they did, by casting as big, or bigger a shadow than they did, by manifesting our future out of dirt roads and burned down houses, the pull to the left instead of the right, and the going with it; the faith and the hope and the endless possibilities we face every day. We do it, because what else can we do. How else can we live.
After the call during which I was told that the signed edition of Misery was approved, there was no one around to high five, so I called two people who were close to the project from the beginning, and shared the good news. “Are you sitting down,” I began. And of course, by then, they knew what I was going to say next. I also went out that night and bought everyone in the bar a round of drinks.
Keeping the secret was particularly hard. Even though I knew it was a done deal, I did not want to mention or announce anything until I had the signed signature sheets in my hands. So the very first order of business was getting the sheets designed and printed. We acted fast, and had them done in about a month, then shipped them off for signing.
Even though it was real, it did not feel as real as it did the day I received the pages back, and the moment I saw Stephen King’s signature on them. Here’s a clip from that day, back in January this year.
As we are now on the eve of the publication of this edition, it is a good time to pull on my ear, and say farewell to this series. I have enjoyed sharing some of this story with you, and I want to thank you for listening. The months that followed that phone call, leading up to this day, have been a dream. A blast of energy coming from a place I do not claim to understand, but to which I give my life, and from which I draw my inspiration.
From the start, it has been my sole purpose to create an edition of this novel, that will honor the work, and the author. To bring joy to those who purchase it, to do the best job that I know how in order to make that happen, and I hope you enjoy the book as much as I did making it for you.
I have a depth of gratitude that goes on through me, and the ground I am standing on, and out the other end of the world, and into the universe, for each and every one of you who have shown your love and support of this edition, and for the Suntup press. Thank you for being on this wild ride with me. This is only the beginning my friends.
Chuck Verrill and Marsha DeFilippo, the same depth of gratitude extends to you both. I will be grateful to you through the end of my days.
Stephen King, thank you. For many reasons, and in particular, for shifting the flow of energy by approving this edition. It has created a groundswell which I never anticipated, and has allowed me to launch into more books that I will publish over the coming months and years.
And to Misery. What is this book, but the reincarnation of a parachute flare fired over an ancient battlefield, toward the smoky blue sky.