(10 of 10)
These projects barely begin to tap the King energy. An image arises in the morning mists, a tableau so powerful and intimidating that only a publisher can contemplate it without blenching. Every day at 9 a.m., except for his birthday, the Fourth of July and Christmas, a 6-ft. 4-in., 198-lb. creature climbs into a T shirt and jeans, swallows a vitamin pill, drinks a glass of Maine tap water and turns on some hard rock on WZON. He is never dissatisfied with what he hears: after all, he owns the station. With a few breaks, he will type until what he calls "beer o'clock" -- about 5 p.m. He has been known to work into the night. The output is some ten pages a day, although with a Wang computer, "the sky's the limit." Before him lies a handful of works in progress. There is the second installment of a five-story science-fantasy cycle, The Dark Tower, featuring Roland, the Last Gunslinger, on the track of his grail. Then there is the uncut version of The Stand. Then there are plans to study French in order to finish Livre Noir, a detective story in French, "the language that turns dirt into romance." And there is a project to turn Carrie into a Broadway musical, with choreography by Debbie Allen. Plus an original story for TV, an 875-page screenplay that will run over 14 episodes. "All right, you son-of-a-bitch, get to work," says the muse in flattop and coveralls. And the giant meekly obeys, preparing to flood the market with millions of words. "The horror!" says the muse. "The horror!" But just now, no one can tell whether he is speaking with nostalgia or anticipation.