A tale of two halves but a great nostalgic ride into the dead lights.
It was November 1991. My friends and I were playing football outside and having a great time. Unbeknownst to us was the nightmarish movie viewing on display inside the house. Our siblings were watching some film about a clown; what could be so damn scary about that, right? Well, us kids waltz inside and feast our eyes upon one scary mofo that left me with many sleepless nights. Welcome to Stephen King's It – but does it hold up as well upon viewing as an adult? Yes and no.
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"...the story and the characters themselves drew me in and the whole formulaic thing didn't even bother me anymore."
I'd like to start this off by saying I haven't read a Dean Koontz book in quite a long time. I would say--except for one momentary slip with Odd Thomas--it's been at least ten years. This doesn't mean I don't like Koontz. Far from it. The only issue I have ever had with his writing (and this took time to develop) is that over the last decade and a half it has become incredibly formulaic. Which drives me insane.
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