Book Collection : jonp

[The Library Policeman]

Congratulations, Jon. Your proofs continue to impress and inspire. :)

[MikeDuke]

OK Jon. 19 on your list, or 19, then you have every proof of a King book in one form or another. Because if it's that then all I can say is Dayum.

[jonp]

Congratulations, Jon. Your proofs continue to impress and inspire. :)

Thanks Alan.


OK Jon. 19 on your list, or 19, then you have every proof of a King book in one form or another. Because if it's that then all I can say is Dayum.

I have 19 more to post, but I am missing just over 60 on the known proofs list, but most are unique or there are just a handful of copies.

[jonp]

A big thank you to Chad again for helping out with this one. These seem to be quite scarce. I also have a few other new Outsiders.

Proof #172 - Stephen King - The Outsider - US Advance Uncorrected Proof

https://i.imgur.com/W5DJ8uc.jpg

Stephen King - The Outsider - UK Advance Hardcover with Publisher's Letter

https://i.imgur.com/Cy27U2n.jpg

Stephen King - The Outsider - UK 1st/1st HB and WHSmith's Collector's edition

https://i.imgur.com/jbolywi.jpg

[biomieg]

Congratulations! The Scribner Outsider proof does seem to be quite scarce, like most of the plain blue Scribner proofs (I think From A Buick 8 is the only one that is easy to find).

[vincent]

Many congrats on another complete set! For the hardback, is there a difference to the published one?

[ur2ndbiggestfan]

Very nice proofs!!!!

[Brian861]

Very nice, Jon!

[jonp]

Congratulations! The Scribner Outsider proof does seem to be quite scarce, like most of the plain blue Scribner proofs (I think From A Buick 8 is the only one that is easy to find).

Thanks Michaël. Some of the blue Scribner proofs I’ve had trouble finding, but I think Cell the only one I have missing (excluding black and white taped states).


Many congrats on another complete set! For the hardback, is there a difference to the published one?

Thanks Vincent. The only difference with the advance hardcover to the 1st edition is the publisher’s letter. I assume they did not have enough proofs, so sent out some 1st editions early with the letters for reviewers.


Very nice proofs!!!!

Thanks Steve.


Very nice, Jon!

Thanks Brian.

[dnemec]

Nice, Jon! I believe that's all the Outsiders to have - at least for now!

[HONKYTONKSMASH]

Looks awesome, Jon. :thumbsup:


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[peripheral]

Very nice adds., Jon. I'm 3/4 of the way through The Outsider at the moment and really enjoying it.

[jonp]

Nice, Jon! I believe that's all the Outsiders to have - at least for now!

Thanks Dez. I believe that's all of them (apart from the airport edition which I no longer collect).


Looks awesome, Jon. :thumbsup:


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Thanks Chad.


Very nice adds., Jon. I'm 3/4 of the way through The Outsider at the moment and really enjoying it.

Thanks Antoni. Glad to hear The Outsider is good, as it's next on my list. I'm still only 1/2 way through Sleeping Beauties at the moment.

[MikeDuke]

Got you. Those new posted ones look very cool. Your proof collection is really fantastic. I am amazed that you can find even the rare ones. Can't wait to see what you get next.

[jonp]

Got you. Those new posted ones look very cool. Your proof collection is really fantastic. I am amazed that you can find even the rare ones. Can't wait to see what you get next.

Thank you for your kind words, Mike.

[jcmanske]

You have been on a large roll, Jon. Congratulations on the Outsiders! I'm enjoying your posts!

[jonp]

You have been on a large roll, Jon. Congratulations on the Outsiders! I'm enjoying your posts!

Thanks Jeff. The roll has just about stopped, only rare ones left.

[Br!an]

You have been on a large roll, Jon. Congratulations on the Outsiders! I'm enjoying your posts!

Thanks Jeff. The roll has just about stopped, only rare ones left.

For a guy who isn't really collecting proofs anymore, you're doing outstanding collecting proofs.

I have no doubt you'll track down some of those rare ones.

[Hunchback Jack]

Very nice Outsiders, Jon! Is the UK review hardcover exactly the same as the 1st edition?

HBJ

[jonp]

You have been on a large roll, Jon. Congratulations on the Outsiders! I'm enjoying your posts!

Thanks Jeff. The roll has just about stopped, only rare ones left.

For a guy who isn't really collecting proofs anymore, you're doing outstanding collecting proofs.

I have no doubt you'll track down some of those rare ones.

Thanks Brian. I will try my best, funds permitting.


Very nice Outsiders, Jon! Is the UK review hardcover exactly the same as the 1st edition?

HBJ

Thanks Peter. Yes, the review hardcover is the same as the 1st, apart the laid-in publisher's letter.

[jonp]

Proof #173 - Richard Bachman - Blaze - US Advance Uncorrected Manuscript Proof - TPB Sized Black-taped White Cover variant with $25.00 price.

https://i.imgur.com/TNwkkbK.jpg

[jhanic]

Nice!! One of the scarcer proofs for sure.

John

[The Library Policeman]

Nice one, Jon. Even I know that’s quite rare! :D

[ur2ndbiggestfan]

It's damaged on the bottom of the cover. Just send it to me and I'll fix it for you. Oh yes, please send $50 for my trouble.


Great proof!

[biomieg]

Good stuff!

[HONKYTONKSMASH]

Another great one! Nicely done, buddy :thumbsup:


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[jonp]

Nice!! One of the scarcer proofs for sure.

John

Thanks John.


Nice one, Jon. Even I know that’s quite rare! :D

Thanks Alan.


It's damaged on the bottom of the cover. Just send it to me and I'll fix it for you. Oh yes, please send $50 for my trouble.


Great proof!

Thanks Steve, and :nope:, I can live with the slight damage!


Good stuff!

Thanks Michaël.


Another great one! Nicely done, buddy :thumbsup:


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Thanks Chad.

[Roog]

Very nice, Jon! You almost make me wanna collect proofs as well ;)

[Stockerlone]

Great one, congrats Jon !!!

[zelig]

Very nice, Jon! You almost make me wanna collect proofs as well ;)

Don’t do it. :-)

[dnemec]

I've never seen that one, Jon! Awesome!!!

[Brian861]

Very nice, Jon!

[vincent]

Yay for rare proof wednesday. Another beauty


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[Stockerlone]

FIFA WM
OK, for me Croatia was the favorite... but...
The first time since Peter Shilton the 3Lions have a good goalkeeper
AND a good team, no fear to lose again against Germany in penalty shootout :-)
and then they have not used this unique opportunity against a experienced Croatia team.

[jonp]

Very nice, Jon! You almost make me wanna collect proofs as well ;)

Thanks Rogier.



Very nice, Jon! You almost make me wanna collect proofs as well ;)

Don’t do it. :-)

I agreed - it's an endless task.


I've never seen that one, Jon! Awesome!!!

Thanks Dez.


Very nice, Jon!

Thanks Brian.


Yay for rare proof wednesday. Another beauty


Verzonden vanaf mijn iPhone met Tapatalk

Thanks Vincent.

[jonp]

Great one, congrats Jon !!!


FIFA WM
OK, for me Croatia was the favorite... but...
The first time since Peter Shilton the 3Lions have a good goalkeeper
AND a good team, no fear to lose again against Germany in penalty shootout :-)
and then they have not used this unique opportunity against a experienced Croatia team.

Thanks Frank.
Yes, we have a good goalkeeper. The team have exceeding all expectations, because they are a very young team. At least they won our first ever World Cup penalty shootout!!

[peripheral]

Excellente!

[jonp]

Excellente!

Thanks Antoni.

[jonp]

Proof #174 - Stephen King - Doctor Sleep - US Advance Uncorrected Proof

https://i.imgur.com/iFv6UO5.jpg

[biomieg]

Another nice one! I was wondering (I don't remember if we discussed this before) - is there a particular 'type' of proof you like most? My favourite proofs were always the plain, bound ones because they really look like a separate, early state of the book, whereas the ones that have cover art usually look more like a paperback version of the trade edition. Do you have a preference?

(of course, the answer is probably that I'm just weird and that you are a true, non-discriminating proof collector :smile:)

[The Library Policeman]

Nice one, Jon.

[ur2ndbiggestfan]

Very nice. I think that one goes right next to INSOMNIA.

[MikeDuke]

Very nice.

[jonp]

Another nice one! I was wondering (I don't remember if we discussed this before) - is there a particular 'type' of proof you like most? My favourite proofs were always the plain, bound ones because they really look like a separate, early state of the book, whereas the ones that have cover art usually look more like a paperback version of the trade edition. Do you have a preference?

(of course, the answer is probably that I'm just weird and that you are a true, non-discriminating proof collector :smile:)

Thanks Michaël. I generally prefer the older '70s and 80's proofs, especially the UK proofs. I also find the manuscript proofs fascinating, especially if they have text that has been editing out / or substantially rewritten or reordered for the final book; for example IT, the BOMC Misery and Tommyknockers submission manuscripts. My favourites tend to be the scarcer proofs because they were more challenging to find, but they can be from any era; for example the scarce UK Bag of Bones proofs or Hearts in Altantis Light blue proof. They are nothing special to look at, but the satisfaction is in the hunt to find them.


Nice one, Jon.

Thanks Alan.


Very nice. I think that one goes right next to INSOMNIA.

Thanks Steve.


Very nice.

Thanks Mike.

[dnemec]

Sweet!!!

[jonp]

Sweet!!!

Thanks Dez.

[Father Cody]

Nice proof :thumbsup:

[jonp]

Nice proof :thumbsup:

Thanks Adam.

[Brian861]

Nice, Jon and a personal favorite of mine.

[jonp]

Nice, Jon and a personal favorite of mine.

Thank you very much, Brian.

[Hunchback Jack]

That Doctor Sleep proof is darn pretty. Congrats, Jon.

[Priest]

174 is a pretty impressive count... congrats!

[jonp]

That Doctor Sleep proof is darn pretty. Congrats, Jon.

Thanks Peter. Yes, it's a nice looking proof, but one I found difficult to find (at least in a good condition).


174 is a pretty impressive count... congrats!

Thank Sebastian.

[jonp]

I never finished my RPWs and I never seem to have the time anymore to post the remaining proofs. I am hardly collecting anymore. I am now selling rather than buying. Having said that I do have a new proof on the way.

These are the remaining proofs and manuscripts that I have not posted, just to round things out.

Proof #175 - Stephen King / Owen King - US CD Edition Interoffice Advance Uncorrected Proof

https://i.imgur.com/l27iAy2.jpg

[jonp]

Another CD proof

Proof #176 - Stephen King - Full Dark, No Stars - US CD Edition Interoffice Advance Uncorrected Proof

https://i.imgur.com/SqhvK7t.jpg

[jonp]

Proof #177 - Stephen King - Dreamcatcher - US Advance Uncorrected Manuscript Proof

https://i.imgur.com/9RXLJUo.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/iTPkF57.jpg

[jonp]

This one has seen better days, but at least I have a copy now. They don't come up that often.

Proof #178 - Stephen King - The Stand (Complete And Uncut) - UK Advance Uncorrected Full Proof - Signed by Stephen King

https://i.imgur.com/Sjvg9zR.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/ArhwPmK.jpg

[Brian861]

Very nice, Jon and great to hear from you! It's been too long! Hope you are well.

[herbertwest]

Wow, jon, it's a shame to see that you are selling rather than collecting anymore !

Can I ask what you are selling and what you still collect at the moment?
Thanks

[jonp]

Proof #179 - Stephen King - Blaze - US Advance Uncorrected Manuscript Proof - Tan Proof with $24.00 Price

https://i.imgur.com/U90jbiW.jpg

All four known Blaze Proofs

https://i.imgur.com/ti8E8hm.jpg

[jonp]

Proof #180 - Stephen King - Misery - US Advance Uncorrected Suntup Press Proof with Publishers Letter

https://i.imgur.com/MD0MN6w.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/yzngEJJ.jpg

[jonp]

Proof #181 - Stephen King - Full Dark, No Stars - US Advance Uncorrected White Taped Spine Proof with Publishers Letter

https://i.imgur.com/Loz0h90.jpg

[jonp]

Proof #182 - Stephen King - Desperation - US Advance Uncorrected 2-volume Comb-bound Manuscript with Printed Spines

https://i.imgur.com/xPBPfcg.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/WqEekrZ.jpg

[jonp]

Proof #183 - Stephen King - The Green Mile: Part I - The Two Dead Girls - US Advance Uncorrected Internal Unbound Manuscript - One Known Copy?

https://i.imgur.com/drnLnqR.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/02NBFaT.jpg

[jonp]

Proof #184 - Stephen King - The Tommyknockers - US Advance Uncorrected Flat bound 2-volume Manuscript

https://i.imgur.com/R137cTU.jpg

[jonp]

This version of the manuscript has significant changes from the final book. There has been significant reordering of the scenes to avoid 'flashbacks'. See a rewritten / deleted scene below.

Proof #185 - Stephen King - Misery - US Advance Uncorrected Book Of The Month Club Inc. Submission Manuscript

https://i.imgur.com/VB8foQV.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/nvaOevY.jpg


Printed in raised and slightly ink-stained metal on the head of the key was:

E
e

The old Royal had thrown the ‘t’ on the first of June, and that was bad enough; now, just to add to the fun, it had thrown the most frequently used letter in the English language.
Paul looked at the calendar. The boy who had been riding a sled down a snowy hillside in February was cavorting in the waves at some beach in this picture—at least Paul thought it was the same boy; the kid had been so bundled up in the earlier picture that it was hard to tell for sure. According to the calendar it was now July, but Paul didn’t know if it still was or not. It might be august. In fact, when you got right down to it, all he knew for sure was that it was still full light at five o’clock in the afternoon, and hotter than the hinges of hell, so it was summer.
Roll out those lazy hazy crazy days of summer, he thought sourly, and threw the key-hammer in the general direction of the wastebasket.
He had kept track of the days pretty well until June 25th, which was the day Annie had cut off the thumb of his left hand. He had picked the wrong day to start complaining about the Royal and its missing ‘n’.’ Well, if it bothers you so much, I’ll just have to give you something else to think about, Paul. Something to take your mind off that old ‘n.’ He heard her rummaging around in the kitchen, throwing things, cursing in her strange Annie Wilkes language. Ten minutes later she came in with an electric knife. Paul began to scream at once. He was, in a way, like Pavlov’s dogs. When Pavlov rang a bell, the dogs salivated. When Annie came into the guest bedroom with a sharp cutting object, Paul began to scream. She plugged the knife into the outlet by his wheelchair and there had been more pleading and more screaming and more promises that he would be good and in the end of course there had been more blood as well. Because when Annie decided on a course of action, she carried it through. Annie was not swayed by pleas. Annie was not swayed by screams. Annie had the courage of her convictions.
As the humming, vibrating blade sank into the soft web of flesh between the soon-to-be-defunct thumb and his first finger, she assured him again in her this-hurts-mother-more-than-it-hurts-Paulie voice that she loved him.
Then, that night…
But he wouldn’t think about that.
Following the amputation of his thumb there had been a dim period of indeterminate length. In that period he had lost track of time and now had no real urge to recapture it.
I’ve gotten as bad as she is, he thought. Maybe even worse.
His mind returned wearily: So what?
He hit the space bar four times, rapidly, and typed: OH FUCK LOOK A HIS! He pulled the paper out of the typewriter—the typewriter made a harsh, ratcheting sound of protest—balled the sheet up, and tossed it across the room. It bounced off the wall above the wastebasket and fell in—two points!—atop a number of other balls of paper. At first he had done pretty well with the book following the loss of his foot—during what Annie so mincingly called his “convalescent period.” He supposed it was that escape thing again, because the pain had been really dreadful, and when the healing process finally did begin, he thought that the “phantom itch” of the foot which was no longer there was even worse. It was the arch that really bothered him. He awoke time after time in the middle of the night using the big toe of his right foot to scratch thin air nine inches below the place where, on that side, his body now ended.
The wastepaper balls had begun to proliferate the day the ‘t’ had broken off. Before that, when there was just the missing ‘n’ to contend with, the clacking voice of the typewriter had been bad: tap-tap-tap-taptap-clack!-tap-clack!-tappedy-tappedy-taptap-clack!-tap. Following the loss of the ‘t’, the sound and rhythm grew even more irritating: tap-clack!-taptap-clack!clack!-tappedy-clack!-tap-tap. Somehow the sound of the clacks, the sound of those vacancies—even his anticipation of the sound—was inhibiting him, disturbing the dream, whittling away the circumference of that hole in the paper through which he saw. Once—he would have sworn it was so!—that hole had been as big as the bore of the Lincoln tunnel. Now it was no more than the size of a knothole through which a sidewalk superintendent might snoop on an interesting piece of building construction. You had to peer and crane to see anything at all, and more often than not the really important things happened outside your field of vision…not surprising, considering the field of vision was so small.
In practical terms, what had happened was obvious. The language of the book had grown florid and overblown again—it was not self-parody yet, not quite, but it was floating in that direction. Continuity lapses had begun to proliferate with the stealth of rabbits breeding in cellar corners…for a space of thirty pages, the Baron had become the Viscount from Misery’s Quest. He’d had to go back and tear that all out.
It doesn’t matter, Paul. The damned thing is almost done. So it was. Working on it was torture, and finishing it was going to mean the end of his life. That the latter had begun to look slightly more attractive than the former said all that probably needed to be said about the worsening state of his body, mind, and spirit. Yet the book had moved on in spite of those things, seemingly independent of them. The continuity drops were annoying but minor. He was having no more problem with the actual make-believe than he ever had—he was still playing the game of Can You? In spite of all the terrible things Annie had subjected him to, and playing it quite well. The plot was melodramatic but well constructed, in its own modest way quite amusing; if it were ever published in something other than the severely limited Annie Wilkes Edition of one typewritten copy, he guessed it might sell a couple of hundred thousand copies in hardcover, a couple of million in soft. The story was fine. But now….
He looked at the broken key-hammer lying on the floor by the wastebasket. It was so small he could barely see it. It was, in a way, like a person’s foot or thumb; it only became an object of pain and concern when it was gone. When it left a hole.
He closed his eyes and could see the way the last line he had written—if you didn’t count OH FUCK LOOK A HIS!, that was—had looked on the page. For a mom h hr of h m, the sentence had begun. Christ, you’d almost have to be a cryptographer to figure out what it was supposed to say: For a moment the three of them, etc., etc.
It was his writing which was suffering, and in spite of the terrible physical and mental shape he was in, it really did seem to be more the fault of his tool than his talent. Filling in the ‘n’s’ had been annoying, but that was all it had been—just scut-work. When the ‘t’ went AWOL, however, the situation had been subtly changed—what had been as simple (if as drudging) as sawing wood or washing dishes had become weirdly anticreative. He found himself having to literally reconstruct some sentences, where there seemed to be more blanks than letters, almost from scratch.
And now, with the ‘e’ gone…
He thought: Welcome, Paulie! Welcome to the world of “For a mom h ree of h m” and etc., etc. Won’t this be more fun than human beings should be allowed to have?
He began to reach for a fresh sheet of paper, and then his hand fell back.
Ask her for another typewriter again, why don’t you? Maybe she’ll cut off your right thumb and even up your hands again.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said aloud.
The sound of the mower had been growing and now she drove by his window, raised one gloved hand to him but not slowing. He automatically raised his thumbless left hand in a return salute. She was wearing a white man’s t-shirt and a pair of tight faded jeans—her ass looked so huge in jeans that it was almost like seeing a hallucination. Her eyes and broad forehead were shaded by a baseball cap with the word CASE written above the bill. Just lately Annie had been as happy as a pig in a wallow. Paul Sheldon was grateful for this, but not at all fooled. The pendulum would swing. It always did.
He reached for the paper again and again his hand fell back. He sighed. It was the sigh of a deeply and fundamentally tired man.
It wasn’t just the ‘n,’ the ‘t,’ or even, now, the ‘e.’ It wasn’t being almost done and knowing she would kill him shortly afterward. The fact was, she wouldn’t have much to kill when she final got down to business.
“I’m dying,” he said, with no awareness at all that he had spoken—it seemed just an idea in his idea. “I’m dying and it plays hell with your fucking creativity.”
The man sitting here today in Annie’s guest-room, dressed only in his gray and sweat-soaked underpants, bore little resemblance to the man who had started off from the Boulderado Hotel last February, tiddly on champagne and even more tiddly on the unique feeling of triumph that he always knew when he had at last, against what felt like suicidally steep odds, finished the book. He thought that feeling must be a little like that felt by shipwrecked sailors who, after weeks or months cast adrift in a small and frail boat, at last sight land just after the last of the food and water has run out.
The man who had driven out of boulder had been a broad-shouldered fellow with a bit of a pot belly from too much beer on weeknights and a bit too much gin on weekend afternoons, a fellow with good color and confident blue eyes. He had not been exactly handsome, that earlier draft of Paul Sheldon, and yet there had been a magnetism about him which turned womens’ heads. He supposed some of the head-turning was causing by the fragile bubble of fame; some by the fact that the Misery books had earned buckets of money (although very few of the many who knew that would have known how many of said buckets had gone to the two ex-wives). Yet he suspected that most of it was due only to that look of confidence. I know what I’m doing, his eyes said, not in an aggressive way that added So don’t make me prove it!, but in a casual way that said this was a matter taken for granted in his own private self.
These days when Annie rolled him into the bathroom and helped him himself into the tub, he saw a different man altogether if he chanced to look in the mirror over the wash-stand…and although he tried, after the first time, not to look, this second-draft version of Paul Sheldon held a certain undeniable situation.
Was it a man? No…not really. Not anymore. Just a creature—a cringing gray rabbit who looked a little like a man, as very large horseshoe rabbits sometimes look like small children if you catch them fleeing across a meadow out of the corner of your eye.
A gray rabbit. The amputation of his foot had not killed him—not quite—but it had leached away the last of his ruddy skin-tones and his weight had dropped from a hundred and eighty to a hundred and forty-five. Maybe less. His pot-belly was still there, but it was no longer a tight little thing below his sternum; now it drooped like a sac. His hands sometimes shook. He had occasional heart palpitations and frequent diaherra.
His eyes were the worst. They had been driven deep into sockets ringed with gray, wrinkled skin. They were the eyes of a man of sixty, a man who has never given himself a rest, a man who has flogged himself into a pair of ulcers, hypertension, incipient collapse. The look of confidence, casual or otherwise, was gone. His eyes were still begging what he had begged her in the last few nightmare moments before she had chopped his foot off: Don’t hurt me, please, Annie, I’ll be good, only don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me.
Your own mother might know you if you were still alive, but that’s all, he thought. All the rest of them—Joan, Margaret, Billy Ho down at the Piece of Work Pub in Soho, Alan, Peggy Stanhouse, Rich, Bryce—they’d just take a look at you and think, “ugh, look at that poor old man,” and pass you by.
Well…just possibly Bryce Bell might be the exception which proved the rule. A little smile touched Paul’s mouth. Bryce might still smell money—or the ghost of it—drifting from Paul’s pores and yell: Paul! Honey! Where the fuck you been? How’s the pages? You getting any good pages?
The grave was marked with a wooden cross. It belonged to one of the Bossies—Paul didn’t know if it was 1 or 2. His visions of mixed blood and milk on the barn floor had apparently not been so morbidly far-fetched as he had tried to tell himself; the Bossy had died not long after Paul had lost his foot. Annie had dug the cow-sized grave herself, taking a whole day to do it. Near dusk she had dragged the Gurnsey out the barn by the ears and rolled her into the hole. Annie had been sobbing loudly as she did it, and once the cow was in the hole, she had fallen on her knees and prayed for nearly two hours, pausing every now and then to read selected verses from her New Testament. Paul remembered watching all of this with the dull concentrate of a man who has been severely wounded and who may or ‘may not be near death. By that point, the sight of Annie reading the Apostles’ creed over the grave of a cow with tears streaming down her thick cheeks had seemed the very least of her eccentricities.
Now he looked at the typewriter again.
You better get going, Paulie. You’re her prize cow now, and she’s going to be in soon to see if you’re giving any milk. So you better get going.
He was reaching for the pile of blank paper again when the Colorado State Police cruiser turned into Annie’s driveway, its whip antenna bouncing back and forth and casting a bright sparkle of westering sunlight into his eyes.


5


At first he froze—and froze was exactly the right word. He felt as if he had been packed in ice. He wanted to open his mouth and couldn’t. He wanted to raise his hands and couldn’t. A horrible moaning sound passed between his closed lips and his hands made light, haphazard drumming sounds on either side of the royal, but at first that was all he could do. Nothing which had gone before—except perhaps for the moment when he had realized that his left leg was moving but his left was staying put—was as terrible as the hell of this mobility. In real time it did not last long; perhaps ten seconds and surely no longer than fifteen. But inside Paul Sheldon’s head it seemed to go on for years.

[jonp]

I never knew this one existed until recently. This is the only copy I know of...is that correct?

Proof #186 - Richard Bachman / Stephen King - Thinner - UK Advance Uncorrected Unbound Manuscript Proof

https://i.imgur.com/VKTmaLg.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/ZeIgpyC.jpg

[jonp]

This is another one never knew this one existed until recently. There are only two known copies.

Proof #187 - Stephen King - The Dark Tower V: Wolves Of The Calla - US Advance Uncorrected Black Taped Spine Proof

https://i.imgur.com/mbukyLu.jpg

[jonp]

I haven't looked at this one closely, but does have a few deleted scenes.

Proof #188 - Stephen King - IT - US Advance Uncorrected 3-volume Comb-bound Internal Manuscript

https://i.imgur.com/dkOj4w0.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/jpWSq6t.jpg

[jonp]

Two more - probably my favourite proofs - these are two extremely rare UK proofs. Firstly...

Proof #189 - Stephen King - Hearts In Atlantis - UK Advance Uncorrected 1st State Proof with Publishers Letter

https://i.imgur.com/Ah9hsMn.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/YrYKxZ3.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/9oQy6o8.jpg

[jonp]

Secondly...and last one for now.

Proof #190 - Stephen King - Bag Of Bones - UK Advance Uncorrected 1st State Slipcased Proof with Launch Party Invitation

https://i.imgur.com/qDBmtt4.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/ibT7jUC.jpg

All three UK States of Bag Of Bones

https://i.imgur.com/OsOB8aZ.jpg

and the US ones

https://i.imgur.com/74CfMzM.jpg

[jonp]

Very nice, Jon and great to hear from you! It's been too long! Hope you are well.

Thanks Brian. I'm fine, thank you, I hope you are as well. Yes, it's been awhile.


Wow, jon, it's a shame to see that you are selling rather than collecting anymore !

Can I ask what you are selling and what you still collect at the moment?
Thanks

Thanks Jeremy. I'm only collecting UK 1sts and the new proof releases from now on. I'm selling / or have sold all gift, limiteds and lettereds.

[biomieg]

Jon, great to see you posting again. Quite a few magnificent items there, congratulations! I especially love the light blue UK HIA and UK BoB trifecta. Superb!

[biomieg]

PS please do post a couple of proof shelf pics if you can.

[Roog]

Wonderful and rare pieces again, Jon, congrats! Please don't stop collecting proofs :D

[vincent]

Hi Jon, thanks so much for this rush of amazing pictures. I'll be coming back here a lot to look at them all properly, I'm sure.

[jon10g]

Love the BOB and HIA proofs. Never seen them before. Great to see the BOB invite too. I recall meeting Lilja at the Borders signing and being very envious of the fact that he went to the party and met King!

[zelig]

Good to see you again here Jon. Amazing new proofs. Congratulations!

[HONKYTONKSMASH]

Good to see ya around, Jon! As always, excellent additions!

[jcmanske]

Your post today kind reminds me of the end of a fireworks show where they save the best for last. What an amazing proof collection!

[Father Cody]

Thanks for posting all those, Jon. Always fun to see your thread.

[The Library Policeman]

Like everyone else, I’m glad to see you back Jon. And those proofs you posted are amazing!

[peripheral]

Wow. No one can say that when you come back, you bring the house down with great vengeance!! Holy hell - amazing proofs here. I love how you have King’s signature on The Stand under his loving dedication to Tabby. Great to see you back...

[Mr. Rabbit Trick]

Proof #183 - Stephen King - The Green Mile: Part I - The Two Dead Girls - US Advance Uncorrected Internal Unbound Manuscript - One Known Copy?

https://i.imgur.com/drnLnqR.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/02NBFaT.jpg

I have this as well.

[dnemec]

I don't even know what to say, Jon! Holy crap! Fantastic new additions!

[jhanic]

Proof #183 - Stephen King - The Green Mile: Part I - The Two Dead Girls - US Advance Uncorrected Internal Unbound Manuscript - One Known Copy?

https://i.imgur.com/drnLnqR.jpg

https://i.imgur.com/02NBFaT.jpg

I have this as well.

I have manuscript copies of Green Mile 1-3. I'm pretty sure they are photocopies though.

John

[Stockerlone]

Supermindblowing new stuff, BIG BIG congrats Jon !!!

[Br!an]

Damn, Jon! Nice!

[Hunchback Jack]

Very nice set of proofs, Jon. Congrats!

I love seeing the U.K. Ones particularly, since they are usually ones I've never seen before. So thanks for posting!

[webstar1000]

Good to see ya buddy!!!

[MikeDuke]

Wow. Some really great stuff on the last page. Great to see you posting again but sad that you seem to trimming your collection, even as you add more to it. But still, some awesome stuff there Jon.

[jon10g]

I realise that I am thinking of the Lisey’s Story party not BOB.


Love the BOB and HIA proofs. Never seen them before. Great to see the BOB invite too. I recall meeting Lilja at the Borders signing and being very envious of the fact that he went to the party and met King!

[jonp]

Thanks for all the kind comments everyone. I've had all those proofs for a while now. This is the only new one in the last few months.

Stephen King - Elevation - US Uncorrected Advance Proof

https://i.imgur.com/DDysxLe.jpg

[jonp]

As Michaël requested, these are the up-to-date proof bookcases. They have changed a lot since the last photos.

Bookcase One (eldest releases at the bottom working to newer ones at the top)

https://i.imgur.com/DergCy9.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/ll8XJDE.jpg

Bookcases Two (newer proofs and the oversized manuscripts and CD editions)

https://i.imgur.com/DZcIENf.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/UZFAbs9.jpg

[Roog]

Wow.
That's a very special collection, Jon! Really impressive 8)

[vincent]

thank you very much for these shelf pictures, Jon. I love the stacks of manuscript photocopies.

I'm considering having the pictures printed in poster format and sticking them on the wall in my office :-)

[jon10g]

That is mighty impressive.

[MikeDuke]

Damn, that looks very impressive.

[biomieg]

Jon, a question: I can identify most of them but what are the thin proofs (?) next to the pink UK talisman, the Green Mile proofs and the light blue UK HIA proof? Thanks!

[jonp]

Wow.
That's a very special collection, Jon! Really impressive 8)

Thanks Rogier.


thank you very much for these shelf pictures, Jon. I love the stacks of manuscript photocopies.

I'm considering having the pictures printed in poster format and sticking them on the wall in my office :-)

Thanks Vincent. Most of the manuscripts (black taped ones) are Scribner in-house early proofs.


That is mighty impressive.

Thanks Jon.


Damn, that looks very impressive.

Thanks Mike.


Jon, a question: I can identify most of them but what are the thin proofs (?) next to the pink UK talisman, the Green Mile proofs and the light blue UK HIA proof? Thanks!

Michaël, the one next to the pink Talisman is The Plant Pt II proof, next to the Green Mile US proofs is the UK Green Mile Part Two proof with a promo booklet and the Light Blue UK HIA is an unnumbered NLR proof.

[Brian861]

Congrats, Jon on the latest proof!

[biomieg]

Thanks, Jon. I suspected the first one was a Plant copy and I could have guessed the NLR proof. I wouldn't have guessed the UK green Mile #2 proof since I used to own one of those and it is quite small. Great stuff all around!

[jonp]

Congrats, Jon on the latest proof!

Thanks Brian.


Thanks, Jon. I suspected the first one was a Plant copy and I could have guessed the NLR proof. I wouldn't have guessed the UK green Mile #2 proof since I used to own one of those and it is quite small. Great stuff all around!

Thanks Michaël. They are in boarded comic bags, so they appear larger than they actually are.

[Father Cody]

I’ve never seen so many proofs in one place. That is truly impressive.

[peripheral]

There they are, in all of their broad and expansive glory!

[dnemec]

Love the bookcase view, Jon. That is amazing. You should be very proud of that collection!

[BachmanBooksBoy]

I have had fun reading this manuscript and comparing it to the final text of the 1st edition years later. Unlike The Shine which had large portions of text editing out due page count constraints to keep the issue price lower, this manuscript, Getting It On, only has minor changes to some paragraphs and sentences to make the story flow better and to offer more explanation where assumptions had to be made in the original text. The novel was also expanded later with two extra chapters and the additions of many paragraphs and sentences. As we all know this short novel was later renamed Rage and has now been out of print for many years and removed from The Bachman Books. King wrote the first forty pages while still a High School senior in 1966 but then he found the unfinished manuscript and went on to finish it in 1971. It was then published as a mass market paperback in 1977.

Stephen King - Getting It On - US Manuscript Copy

http://i.imgur.com/E4xitLL.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/lZlJLwp.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/MPTLFJI.jpg

The setting for he novel was changed from John Gates High School, Gates Falls to Placerville High School, Placerville.
Mrs. Underwood was teaching Latin I rather than Algebra II.

Chapter IV in the manuscript has been split with revisions into Chapters 4 and 6 in the final book with the insertion of a new chapter 5 and the introduction of character Randy Earl who does not appear in the manuscript.

Ted Jones father is vice-president of Gates Mill and Weaving Inc. rather than the Placerville Bank and Trust.

The death of Charlie's aunt has been modified.

http://i.imgur.com/8gFD4PO.jpg

Chapter 33 in the final book is not in the manuscript and was written later.

The ending in the manuscript features Ted Jones being killed by his classmates and Charlie being convicted of his murder along with the two teachers. In the final novel Ted survives.


XXVIII.

I looked up at the wall-clock. It was twelve-thirty. I drew in all my mental breath and got ready to start down the home stretch.

“So ends the short, brutal saga of Charles Everett Decker,” I said. “Questions?”

There were no questions.

Don Lordi was looking at me in a hungry way that reminded me of a shark I had once seen in an Ivan Tors movie. Sylvia was smoking the last cigarette in her pack. Pat Fitzgerald labored on his plane, crimping the paper wings, the usual slyly-funny expression gone from his face, replaced by something that was wooden and carved. Sandra Cross still seemed to be in a pleasant daze. Even Ted Jones seemed to have his mind on other matters, perhaps on a door he had forgotten to latch when he was ten, or a dog he might once have kicked.

“Then that brings us to our final order of business in our brief but enlightening stay together,” I said. “Have you learned anything today? Who knows the final order of business? Let’s see.”

I watched them. There was nothing. I was afraid it wouldn’t come, couldn’t come. So tight, so frozen, all of them. When you’re five and you hurt, you strike out every time. At ten, maybe half the time. But by the time you make fifteen the average drops and you begin to eat poisoned apples that grow on your own inner tree of good and evil. You begin to cram your fist into your mouth to stifle the screams. But they had gone so far—

And then Pig Pen looked up from his pencil. He was smiling a small, red-eyed smile, the smile of a ferret. His hand crept up into the air, the fingers still clenched around his cheap writing instrument.

So it could be easier for the rest. One electrode begins to arc and sputter, and—voila!—look, professor, the monster walks tonight.

Susan Brooks put her hand up next. Then there were several together. Sandra raised hers. Grace Stanner raised hers—delicately. Irma Bates. Corky. Don. Pat. Sarah Pasterne. Some smiling a little, mostly solemn. Tanis. Nancy Caskin. Dick Keene and Mike Gavin. George and Harmon. Melvin Thomas, the shortest boy in the twelfth grade. Anne Lasky. At the end all of them were up, all but one.

I called on Carol Granger, because I thought she deserved her moment. You would have thought that she might have had the most trouble making the switch, crossing the terminator so as to speak, but she had done it almost effortlessly, like a girl shedding her clothes in the bushes during the class picnic.

“Carol?” I said. “What’s the answer?”

She thought about how to word it. She put a finger up to the small dimple beside her mouth as she thought, and there was a furrow in her milk-white brow. “We have to help,” she said. “We have to help show Ted where he has gone wrong.”

That was a very tasteful way to put it, I thought.

“Thank you, Carol,” I said.

She blushed.

I looked at Ted, who had come back to the here and now. He was glaring again, but in kind of a confused way. “I think the best thing,” I said, “would be if I became a sort of combination judge and public attorney. Everyone else can be witnesses; and of course you’re the defendant, Ted.”

Ted laughed strangely. “You,” he said. “Oh Jesus, Charlie. Who do you think you are? You’re crazy as a bat.”

“Do you have a statement?” I asked him.

“You’re not going to play tricks with me, Charlie. I’m not saying a goddam thing. I’ll save my speech for when we get out of here.” His eyes swept his classmates accusingly and distrustfully. “And I’ll have a lot to say.”

I had the pistol on safety and now I brought it up suddenly, pointed at his head, and screamed “BANG!”

Ted shrieked.

Anne Lasky laughed merrily.

“Shut up!” Ted yelled at her.

“Don’t you tell me to shut up,” she said. “What are you so afraid of?”

“What—“ His jaw dropped. The eyes bulged. In that moment I felt a great deal of pity for him. The Bible says the snake tempted Eve with the apple. What would have happened if he had been forced to eat himself?

Ted half-rose from his seat, trembling. “What am I—“

He pointed a shivering finger at Anne, who did not cringe at all. “YOU GODDAM SILLY BITCH! HE HAS GOT A GUN! HE IS CRAZY! HE HAS SHOT TWO PEOPLE! DEAD! HE IS HOLDING US HERE!”

“Not me, he isn’t,” Irma said. “I could have walked right out.”

“We’ve learned some very good things about ourselves, Ted,” Susan said coldly. “I don’t think you’re being very helpful, closing yourself in and trying to be superior. Don’t you realize that this could be the most meaningful experience of our lives?”

“He’s a killer!” Ted said tightly. “He killed two people. This isn’t television. Those people are really dead. He killed them.”

“Soul-killer!” Pig Pen hissed suddenly.

“Where the fuck do you think you get off?’ Dick Keene asked. “All this just shakes the shit out of your tight little life, don’t it? You didn’t think anybody’d find out about you banging Sandy, did you? Or your mother. Ever think about her? You think you’re some kind of white knight. I’ll tell you what you are. You’re a cocksucker.”

I could watch it, actually watch it gathering steam and drive and purpose. Earlier it might have been illuminating, but I was very tired.

“Witness, witness!” Grace cried merrily, waving her hand. “Ted Jones buys girlie magazines. I’ve seen him in Ronnie’s Variety, doing it.”

“Beat off much, Ted?” Harmon asked. He was smiling viciously.

“And you were a Star Scout,” Pat said dolorously.

Ted twitched from them like a bear that has been tied to a post for the villager’s amusement. “I don’t masturbate!” He yelled.

“Right,” Corky said disgustedly.

“I bet you really stink in bed,” Sylvia said. She looked at Sandra. “Did he really stink in bed?”

“We didn’t do it in bed,” Sandra said. “We were in the car. It was over so quick—“

“That’s what I figured.”

“All right,” Ted said. His face was sweaty. He stood up. “I’m walking out of here. You’re all crazy. I’ll tell them—“ He stopped and added with a strange, lunatic irrelevancy: “I’ve never meant what I said about my mother.” He swallowed. “You can shoot me, Charlie, but you can’t stop me. I’m going out.”

I put the gun on the blotter. “I have no intention of shooting you, Ted. But let me remind you that you haven’t really done your duty.”

“That’s right,” Dick said, and after Ted had taken two steps toward the door, Dick came out of his seat, took two running steps of his own, and grabbed him. Ted’s face dissolved into utter amazement. He tried to give Dick an elbow in the belly and then his arms were pinned, one by Pat and one by George Yannick.

Sandra Cross got slowly out of her seat and walked to him, demurely, like a girl on a country road. Ted’s eyes were bulging, half-mad. I could taste what was coming, the way you can taste thunderheads before the rain, before the summer rain.

She stopped before him and an expression of sly, mocking devotion crossed her face and was gone. She put a hand out, touched the collar of his shirt. The muscles of his neck bunched as he jerked away from her. Dick and Pat and George held him like springs. She reached slowly inside the open collar of the khaki shirt and began to pull it open, popping the buttons. There was no sound in the room but the tiny, flat tic-tic as they fell to the floor and rolled. He was wearing no tee shirt and his flesh was bare, smooth. She moved as if to kiss the flesh and he spit in her face.

Pig Pen smiled from over Sandra’s shoulder, the grubby court jester with the king’s paramour. “I could put your eyes out,” he said. “Do you know that? Pop them out just like olives.”

“Let me go! Charlie, make them let me—“

“He cheats,” Sarah Pasterne said loudly. “He always looks at my paper in Trig. Always.”

Sandra stood before him, now looking down, a sweet, murmurous smile barely curving the bow of her lips. The first two fingers of her right hand touched the slick spittle on her cheek lightly.

“Hero,’ Billy Sawyer whispered. He crept up behind Ted on tippy-toe and suddenly pulled his hair.

Ted screamed.

“He cheats on the laps in gym, too,” Don said harshly. “You really quit football because you don’t have no sauce, dint you?”

“Please,” Ted said. “Please, Charlie.” He had begun to grin oddly. Sylvia had joined the little circle around him. She might have been the one who goosed him, but I couldn’t really see.

They were moving around him in a slow kind of dance that was nearly beautiful. Fingers pinched and pulled, questions were asked, accusations made. Irma Bates pushed a ruler down the back of his pants. Somehow his shirt was pulled off and flew to the back of the room in two tatters. Ted was breathing in great, high whoops. Anne Lasky began to rub the bridge of his nose with an eraser. Corky scurried back to his desk like a good mouse, found a bottle of Carter’s ink, and dumped it into his hair. Hands flew out like birds and rubbed it in briskly.

Ted began to weep.

“Soul brother?” Pat Fitzgerald began to ask. He was smiling, whacking Ted’s bare shoulders lightly with a notebook in cadence. “Be my soul brother? That right? Little Head Start? Little free lunch? That right? Hum? Hum? Brothers? Be soul brothers?”

“Got your Silver Star, hero,” Dick said, and raised his knee, placing it expertly in the big muscle of Ted’s thigh.

Ted screamed. His eyes bulged and rolled toward me, the eyes of a horse staved on a high fence. “Please…please…ple__” And then Nancy Caskin stuffed a large wad of notebook paper into his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but Sandra rammed it back in.

“That will teach you to spit,” she said reproachfully.

Harmon knelt and pulled off one of his shoes. He rubbed it in Ted’s inky hair and then slammed the sole against Ted’s chest. It left a huge, grotesque footprint.

“Admit one!” Corky cried gleefully.

Tentatively, almost demurely, Carol stepped on the stockinged foot and twisted her heel. Something snapped. Ted blubbered.

He sounded like he was begging somewhere behind the paper, but you couldn’t tell. Pig Pen darted in spiderlike and suddenly bit his nose.

There was a sudden black pause. I noticed that I had turned the pistol around so that the muzzle was pointed at my head, but of course that would not be at all cricket. I unloaded it and put it carefully in the bottom desk drawer, beside Mrs. Underwood’s purse.

They were smiling at Ted, who hardly looked human at all anymore. In that brief flick of time they looked like gods, young, wise, and golden. Ted did not look like a god. Ink ran down his cheeks in blue-black teardrops. The bridge of his nose was bleeding and one eye glared disjointedly toward no place. Paper protruded through his teeth. He breathed in great white snuffles of air.

I had time to think: We have got it on. Now we have got it on.

They fell on him.











XXIX.


I had Corky pull up the shades before they left. He did it silently, with quick, jerky motions. There were now what seemed like hundreds of cruisers out there, thousands of people. It was three minutes of one.

The sunlight hurt my eyes.

“Goodbye,” I said.

“Goodbye,” Sandra said.

They all said goodbye, I think, before they went out. Their footfalls made a funny echoey noise going down the hall. I closed my eyes and imagined a giant one-hundred-foot centipede. When I opened them again they were walking across the bright green of the lawn. I wished they had used the sidewalk; even after all that had happened, it was still a hell of a lawn.

The last thing I remember seeing of them was that their hands were streaked with black ink.

People enveloped them.

One of the reporters, throwing caution to the winds, eluded three policemen that tried to grab him and raced down, pell-mell.

The last one to be swallowed up was Carol Granger. I thought she looked back, I couldn’t tell. Philbrick started to walk stolidly toward the school. Flashbulbs were popping all over the place. I wondered if he knew Ted Jones hadn’t come out with the others. Doubtful. Too much confusion.

I though perhaps he would be hungry enough to come right down, but he was still taking no chances. It was the intercom. And he was puffing and blowing again.

Chink.

“Decker?”

“Right here.”

“Come out with your hands up.”

I sighed. “You come down and get me, Philbrick old sport. I’m pretty goddam tired. This psycho business is a hell of a drain on the glands.”

“All right,” he said, tough. “They’ll be shooting in the gas canisters in just about one minute.”

“Better not,” I said. “There’s still one of them down here. He’s hurt.” That was only a little lie.

His voice was instantly wary. “Who?”

“Ted Jones.”

“How is he hurt?”

“Stubbed his toe.”

“He’s not there. You’re lying.”

“Have I lied to you yet? Go back and count noses, Philbrick.”

No answer. Puff, snort, blow.

“Come on down,” I invited. “The gun is unloaded, in the bottom of the desk drawer. We can play a couple of cribbage hands, then you can take me out and tell the papers how you did it single-handed.”

Chink. He was off the horn.

I closed my eyes and put my face in my hands. All I saw was gray. Nothing but gray. Not even a flash of white light. For no reason at all I thought of New Year’s Eve, when all those people crowd into Times Square and scream like jackals as the lighted ball slides down the pole, ready to shed its thin party glare on three hundred and sixty-five new days. I had always wondered what it would be like to be caught in one of those crowds, screaming and not able to hear your own voice, your individuality momentarily wiped out and replaced with the blind empathic overslop of the crowd’s lurching, angry anticipation, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder with no one in particular.

I began to cry.

When Philbrick stepped through the door, I made as if to grab something behind Mrs. Underwood’s row of books. “Here it comes, you shit cop!” I screamed.

He shot me three times.


XXX.

CHARLES EVERITT DECKER, convicted in Superior Court this day August 27, 197- of the willful murder of Theodore Lloyd Jones, a human being.

Two counts of willful murder held in abeyance.

It has been determined by five State psychiatrists that Charles Everett Decker is not a sane human being. He has thus been remanded to the Augusta State Hospital, where he will be held in treatment until such time as he can be certified responsible for his acts.

To this writ I have set my hand.



Signed,

Judge Samuel K.N. Deleavney



In other words, until shit sticks on the moon, baby.


XXXI.


Sept. 19th



Dear Charlie,

They tell me you can have mail now, so I thought I would drop you a line. Maybe you noticed this is postmarked Boston—yer old buddy finally made the big time, and I’m taking sixteen credit hours here at B.U. It’s all pretty slushy except my English class. The instructor assigned us a book called The Postman Always Rings Twice that was really good, and I got an “A” on the exam. It’s by James Cain, did you ever read it? I’m thinking about majoring in English, how’s that for a laugh? Your influence, I guess. And you always were the brains of the combination.

I saw your Mom just before I left Gates Falls, and she said you were just about all better from the holes in you. I was sure glad to hear it. She said you aren’t talking much. That doesn’t sound like you, skinner. It would sure be a loss to the world if you clammed up and just scrunched in a corner all day.

Altho I haven’t been home since the semester started, Sandy Cross wrote me a letter with a lot of news about all the people at home (will the bastards censor this part? I bet they read all your mail). Sandy herself decided not to go to college this year. She’s just sort of hanging around, waiting for something to happen, I guess. I might as well tell you that I dated her a couple of times in August, but she just seemed kind of distant. She asked me to say “hi” to you, tho.

Pig Pen has joined the Navy, can you believe it? I guess his mother raised the devil but couldn’t budge him. He was old enough to sign the papers himself. Sandy says he’s stationed in San Diego and They’re going to teach him to be a radio operator. Carol Granger’s validictory (sp?) speech was reprinted by Seventeen magazine. As I remember, it was on Self Integrity and A Normal Response To It, or some such happy horseshit.

Oh Yeah, and Irma Bates is going out with some “hippy” from Lewiston. I guess they were even in a peace demonstration at The Brunswick Naval Air Station. Mrs. Bates must be having birds about it. Dick Keene was going to start at the U. of Maine, but he got in a car accident and broke both arms. He’s going to be okay, tho. And Gracie Stanner, that little chick, is getting married.

Well, guess that’s all for now. I hope they are treating you right, Ferd, as you’ve got to be out of there as soon as they’ll let you. And if they start letting you have visitors, I want you to know that I’ll be the first in line.

There are a lot of us pulling for you, Charlie. Hard. You have to believe that.


Keep your thumb on it,

Joe




XXXII.


I haven’t had any bad dreams now for two weeks, almost. I do lots of jigsaw puzzles. They give me custard and I hate it but I eat it just the same. They think I like it. So I have a secret again. Finally I have a secret again.

My mom sent me the yearbook. I haven’t unwrapped it yet, but maybe I will. Maybe next week I will. I think I could look at all the senior pictures and not tremble a bit. Maybe next week I will.

Wow. Though it does sound that the final ending was not much of an improvement for either Charlie or for Ted. It is quite sad how Ted evidently dies in the original manuscript, but his life is basically over in both editions, and Charlie is already busted. I do not think in either version his classmates meant to kill him, or drive him insane, I think (and I honestly think this though King would disagree) that they were truly trying to help him see the error of his ways. I think if the story was to expand and the classmates knew for certain that he died, the ending would be different, but it is as it is, wow still in a little shock about how the original played out. Thank you for sharing the information.

[webstar1000]

Where did Jon go anyways?

[Mr. Rabbit Trick]

I've never known a King manuscript to be single spaced.

[BachmanBooksBoy]

Where did Jon go anyways?

Joe you mean? I am not sure.

Wow. I just cannot get over how much scarier the story is to me now considering the ending. Many questions arise. Did the classmates know that they led Ted to his death? If they did, then why would they wanted him dead (I know they wanted to get their "revenge" on him, but dead, a bit much)? How would they (and Charlie) have reacted to Ted's death? What would have happened to Charlie? I am glad King decided to ditch this ending, but it was not much of an improvement. Ted had no hope of having his condition improved, and Charlie was still busted. As much as Ted was a jerk, and he certainly was (is, sorry), you got to feel sorry for him. It gives the story a much different perspective.

[webstar1000]

Where did Jon go anyways?

Joe you mean? I am not sure.

Wow. I just cannot get over how much scarier the story is to me now considering the ending. Many questions arise. Did the classmates know that they led Ted to his death? If they did, then why would they wanted him dead (I know they wanted to get their "revenge" on him, but dead, a bit much)? How would they (and Charlie) have reacted to Ted's death? What would have happened to Charlie? I am glad King decided to ditch this ending, but it was not much of an improvement. Ted had no hope of having his condition improved, and Charlie was still busted. As much as Ted was a jerk, and he certainly was (is, sorry), you got to feel sorry for him. It gives the story a much different perspective.

JonP who's thread this is.

[BachmanBooksBoy]

Where did Jon go anyways?

Joe you mean? I am not sure.

Wow. I just cannot get over how much scarier the story is to me now considering the ending. Many questions arise. Did the classmates know that they led Ted to his death? If they did, then why would they wanted him dead (I know they wanted to get their "revenge" on him, but dead, a bit much)? How would they (and Charlie) have reacted to Ted's death? What would have happened to Charlie? I am glad King decided to ditch this ending, but it was not much of an improvement. Ted had no hope of having his condition improved, and Charlie was still busted. As much as Ted was a jerk, and he certainly was (is, sorry), you got to feel sorry for him. It gives the story a much different perspective.

JonP who's thread this is.

Sorry, my bad. I guess I am just stunned about how the original ending turned out in difference to the revised ending. It makes you feel differently on the actions of the characters, still my questions remain, but I am glad King toned it down, though not by much.

[Zac1997]

Part two of my Rose Red package arrived today - it consists of two blueprints of Rose Red. There is probably one for the first floor floating around somewhere. I wonder what these were used for - promos or help for the filming crew to visualize the setting?

Stephen King - Rose Red - US Blueprint For North Elevation

http://i.imgur.com/Q7sFeuP.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/qcJeBT4.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/R7mu8jI.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/vz9h0FW.jpg

Stephen King - Rose Red - US Blueprint for 2nd Floor

http://i.imgur.com/oPLfwj4.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/K3hLxJc.jpg


Plz, how i contact you? I can't access your profile to contact you

[Joe315]

JonP hasn’t been here for over a year.

[Zac1997]

Oh really? how sad, I tried to visit his profile to see if I could find any form of contact like email, social media, but it appears that I don't have enough privileges (I can't access my profile either)

I created my profile just to try to talk to him, because I was interested in the Rose Red Plans, and wanted to request some more photos, and if possible, a scan of the plans, for personal use, and for anyone who wanted (if he share here)

[Zac1997]

JonP hasn’t been here for over a year.

But I believe that the second floor blueprint is not the final version (I believe they did not make a final version), I say that because it does not fully match the first floor blueprint (the grand staircase area and the hall by example)

[herbertwest]

Sent jonp a pm ;)

[The Library Policeman]

Sent jonp a pm ;)

Or a jonpm. :evil:

[Zac1997]

I Tried, but it says "you do not have permission to access this page"

[burgerhicks80]

I just looked and the two copies I have are two different printers. funny I never knew about this.

[Randall Flagg]

I Tried, but it says "you do not have permission to access this page"
You need to have 5 posts to use that and other functions.

[Zac1997]

Thanks

[Zac1997]

I just looked and the two copies I have are two different printers. funny I never knew about this.

From the Blueprints?