Kirkman on The Governor casting
Posted: March 5, 2012, 00:13
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Book news from Scribner
Posted: March 5, 2012, 00:12
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UK audio of Wind Through the Keyhole
Posted: March 5, 2012, 00:02
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Here is the UK cover for their audio edition. It will also have an excerpt from Doctor Sleep.
Message from Steve - Doctor Sleep
Posted: March 3, 2012, 15:03
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Message from Steve - Doctor Sleep
Posted: March 2nd, 2012 11:43:56 am EST
Hey, you guys and gals: I've done public readings from next year's Shining sequel a couple of times now, but if you got the idea from any of the blog posts that the audio sample at the end of the forthcoming Wind Through the Keyhole CDs is just the five-minute snippet I read last month in Savannah...think again. It's the entire prologue of the book (called LOCKBOX). It's 25 manuscript pages and runs a little shy of half an hour when read aloud. If you're looking for a return to balls-to-the-wall, keep-the-lights-on horror, get ready. And don't say you weren't warned.
The Marv story contest winners are…
Posted: March 2, 2012, 11:58
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The Marv story contest is over and I have selected two winners. I have selected them based on how good their story is, how well it tells the story of Marv and how well is follow the illustration that was the inspiration for the story. I got a total of 55 stories and these two where the best, according to me.Marv’s Story by Dani Black
ITs Bitch by Elliott Hayes
Dani will get the original drawing that inspired this contest and Elliott Cemetery Dance’s 25th anniversary edition of IT. Great work both of you!
Marv's Story by Dani Black
Posted: March 2, 2012, 11:44
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By Dani Black
Sometimes, he remembers.
There was this man, long ago. Marv is not sure of who he was anymore. Some nights he thinks he sees him in the mirror, right in front of him. Taunting, haunting him. Some other nights, it seems like he's screaming.
Marv doesn't remember everything, just some moments, names, faces. It is like a puzzle, that man's life, and he only has half of the pieces. Some of them make sense; others don't. He remembers a child looking through a window, wondering what would it be like to run outside, to keep running until the house was not in sight, until the world he knew was so far away he didn't have to face it anymore. He also remembers the man, so many years later, wondering the same. If he could escape from hell.
The Library seems so quiet, sometimes. As if it was only the old, empty building that people see during the day. As if it didn't hold so many souls, so many horrors and wonders. As if Marv were there alone.
He isn't. He knows that. Even when they're not screaming, even when they don't call him and whisper sweet words, the books are watching. Marv remembers there was a time when he couldn't believe that. When he didn't want to.
That was so long ago.
There was this man, once. Marv remembers his face, round and warm and alive, he remembers a nose and blue eyes and maybe something else. Hair. Lips. He was human, once, he was just a kid and then he grew up and -and there was She, the one he swore to save. And now there's this. The Library.
He thinks he knew, then. He thinks he knew he couldn't help her, save her. But he had to try. You were such a fool, Marv.
He rests against the wall. He wishes he could close his eyes, get some sleep -he knows he used to do that. But now he needs to be awake, forever, now he needs to wander around and watch the books because they could be hungry, they could scape. He has to keep them, guard them. Make them quiet, too, until dawn comes again.
Marv met her when she was eighteen. She said she wanted to be a star, someday, sing in Broadway or go to Hollywood, maybe. Meanwhile, she worked as a waitress and wore a skirt so short he thought he'd be able to see everything, if he wanted. She was nice, he reckons. So nice, and smelled so good -he remembers vanilla and some fruit, doesn't know which one.
He told her she didn't know what she wanted. You're just a kid, Marv said; you don't have any idea of the way the world works. Out there, he hissed, Hollywood and Broadway are a nightmare. Just like everything else.
Marv was drunk, that day. Tried to leave the café without paying; she stopped him. Told him to chill out, I know exactly what's going to be like, he thinks she said, or maybe that was later. Either way, she was right. She knew.
Her name was Sylvie. Or maybe not, maybe she changed it so she sounded a little more interesting, special. Maybe she changed it the way she couldn't change the world. Marv knew he would fall for her even before it happened, somehow. It only took three dates.
He bought her dinner a few times, and she laughed at all the right jokes and answered every question and said exactly what he wanted to hear. She could've been acting, he thought, but he didn't care. Not then, not now, either. If it was an act, it had been a good one.
They could have been happy, he thinks. Maybe. They could have had something, but then there was the accident.
The car ran over her so slowly in his eyes. It was like a movie, Marv thought, like he could watch it from afar, as if it didn't hurt, as if it didn't matter. Sylvie screamed, and Marv screamed, and the world seemed to collapse for a moment. He couldn't walk, couldn't run, couldn't stop screaming, and she was laying on the floor, something dark and warm dripping out of her body. He wanted to tell her to get up, come on, Sylvie, get out of here. She didn't move.
And, just like that, it was over. Sylvie, their story, the dream. They could have been happy, he thinks even now, when he remember what that means.
There is a Library, somebody told him. Far away, going south and west, there is this Library where you could find anything. Marv thinks it was a woman, who said this, an old woman drinking and swearing and trying to drown her life, just like him. He asked if that exists, why don't you go find it. She said I've done it. Back when I was young. Look at how it turned out.
But it was worth a try. Why not.
And, true, there is the Library. Just going to the old Jenkins' farm, keep walking for like five minutes. You'll see it.
People in the village didn't want to talk about it. The Library. They didn't want to tell him how to get there, at first. There are things men cannot play with, someone said. There are things that are just too big for us. Marv didn't listen.
It's my last chance.
There are nights when he wonders if he would've stayed, and what would have happened. There are nights when he wonders if the Library was calling him, waiting for him. It doesn't really matter, though. Not now.
It was dark when he arrived. The Library looked like an old castle, a perfect location for a black-and-white horror film, he thought. The gates were closed, but a mere push was enough to open them. And there was nothing between him and the books, the one that could save Sylvie, bring her back.
Some nights, even now, Marv thinks there are things lurking in the shadows. Things without name, without form, things he doesn't want to know. That first night, the man who entered the Library thought the same. Something is watching me.
He remembers that feeling. He also remembers the smell -dust and time and something dark, powerful, alive- and the cold and the noises. For there were noises, in the Library, even then. Footsteps caused by no one, whispered words he didn't catch. He should have ran. He would have run.
But then he heard her voice.
It couldn't be, he thought. It couldn't be, because she was dead, because why now, why here. I've come this far just to get to hear you again, see you and touch you and what are you doing here, Sylvie, he wanted to ask. He didn't. He listened instead.
It was her voice, just as he remembered. Just as he remembers now, so sweet and a little bit amused, as if there was something funny everywhere. In death, even. It was her voice, and she was telling him something -Marv couldn't quite make out the words, but he could imagine. Help me, he thought she said. Help me, save me, Marv. It is too dark here.
He entered the Library, breathed deeply. There were shelves full of books everywhere, old tomes covered in dust, yellowing slowly. It could be any of these, he thought, it could be anywhere. Maybe it doesn't even exist, a little part of his mind reminded him. Maybe it is not even real.
Sylvie, he said aloud. Sylvie, please. If you're there. Tell me.
He didn't expect it to work, he didn't expect her to talk to him, guide him, but it was still disappointing. There was silence, in the Library -and he didn't realize until later how strange that was.
Then, there was a sigh. Somewhere at the end of the room. A faint sigh, and Marv followed it, because it was his only clue.
Sometimes, he wonders if he could have walked away, had he not found the book.
It was hidden between some others, but the sound was coming from there. It caught his eye -it was newer, cleaner, nicer than the others- and he took it without really thinking. He didn't even read the cover -he now knows what it says, but it doesn't make things different-; he just opened it. And that was it.
There were worms.
They came from everywhere, from nowhere, they appeared on the pages of the book and crawled up his arms, leaving a humid, slimy track. They bit, ate, they assaulted him and Marv could feel his flesh being torn apart, could feel the skin dissappearing and everything was painful, everything was so real and so utterly impossible at the same time. It was like being in a dream -a nightmare- and, for a second, he thought he saw Sylvie just in front of him, waving sadly and closing her eyes. He tried to do the same, blink and run away from all that. He couldn't.
Sometimes, he still remembers what it was like. Being alive, feeling the pain. Hurting so much he wanted to die; he fell to the floor, and suddenly there were no worms, no Sylvie, nothing. Just the book, closing itself, and Marv.
From then on, there's been just them.
ITs Bitch by Elliott Hayes
Posted: March 2, 2012, 11:41
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by Elliott Hayes
Marvin stood outside the library and paused for reflection. His whole life had been leading up to this one moment. Everything he had worked for hinged on what he might find inside. He had failed once before, but he was sure this time, he could feel it in the air. The atmosphere almost crackled around him, the flesh on his ears and the side of his face tingled like the prickly pain you get from fine ice-cold rain.
Sixty years of fear had lead him to this place. Sixty years of pain and doubt. Pain brought on by the memories of his childhood, from the corruption of an innocence that only the young possess. Doubt over whether or not any of it was real, whether it had ever actually happened. But he knew it was real, there was no doubt in his mind right now. He raised a hand to his face and traced the scar that lay there with the tip of a long boney finger.
It was real alright, he had followed its ghastly trail for sixty years, and in that time had seen things he dared not believe, for to believe them would be tantamount to madness, and he feared the grip of madness on his brain as much as he feared the thing that he would find inside that library. He knew that if he were ever to stop and think about it from the point of view of a rational human being the tentacles of madness would creep slowly into his brain and take hold and never let go.
So he kept rationality at arm’s length, and filled the forefront of his consciousness with hatred and disgust, emotions that drove him on and kept him teetering on the ledge between reality and insanity (with an emphasized tilt towards the latter).
He had only seen it once, when he was six years old. That's when he had gotten the scar. He guessed now he had only survived the encounter by miracle and though for a while he had thanked God for saving him he knew in his heart that was not the case. God had nothing to do with any of this. He had seen what it was capable of first hand as a boy, and again thirty years later. Now, another thirty years on, it was back, and it was doing it again. God was nowhere to be seen. As usual.
The wind picked up and he turned the collar of his overcoat upwards to protect from its icy bite. It was time to go inside. He tried to summon the will to move his feet but he was rooted to the spot. The last words of the psychic echoing in his mind, "It's a book, an evil, joined together. Kill the book!" he tried not to think about what happened to her, to put it to the back of his mind, but she kept pushing her way to the front again, her mouth wide open in a silent scream, eyes bulging out of their sockets. He kept telling himself he hadn't seen that hand, that it was his imagination, or the remnants of a dream, but he knew better. He knew that the fingers he had seen wriggling inside her mouth had really been there, that when they protruded from that gaping orifice and reached upwards over her nose, pressing inwards and crushing her skull in on itself he hadn't been dreaming. Not at all. He had been witnessing a manifestation of that other world, the one she was able to visit, the one It was from.
He forced the image from his mind and headed up the steps. As he placed his hand on the library door he paused for a moment and took a breath, noticing the smooth varnish on the wood beneath his fingers. This made him smile, some normality amid such madness. He gave the door a push and as it swung silently inwards he took the last breath of fresh air he would ever take as a human being and entered the building.
Inside was just a library. It looked like a library, smelled like a library and was as quiet as... well you get the picture. This surprised him, and made him feel uneasy. For a moment he allowed himself the briefest hope that the psychic had got it wrong. Surely he should be walking into a vast fiery cavern, with cliffs dropping off into lakes of molten lava, punctuated with the shrieks of demons and the stench of burnt hair and decomposed flesh. The psychic had sent him to a library, an actual library with no hint of evil, It couldn't possibly live here. Then he remembered what had happened to her and he knew that was just wishful thinking. But surely this was what he wanted. His entire existence had been about finding and destroying the thing that had devastated his life. He pulled back his shoulders, puffed out his chest and with a renewed sense of purpose walked up to the reception desk.
There was no one in attendance. He looked around, suddenly sure It would be behind him. The library appeared empty. Huge bookshelves rose up almost to the ceiling, which was punctuated with skylights here and there. Access to the higher books was via tall ladders that ran along the floor on wheels, he was more than familiar with the system having spent many hours in libraries over the years, researching the occult and its creations. There was a smaller room on the right with the sign "CHILDREN'S LIBRARY" over the door. A poster on the door drew his attention. It depicted a scene from Little Red Riding Hood. The Big Bad Wolf was in grandma's bed dressed in grandma's nightgown and Little Red was stood at the foot of the bed. The wolf was grinning a very toothy grin. The caption beneath read simply WHO'S AFRAID?
"I am," was the answer that popped instinctively into Marvin's head, followed immediately by the idea that perhaps this was meant for him, it surely wasn't there for the children. Then he remembered what It had done to him as a child and he wondered if maybe it was.
"Down to business," he muttered quietly to himself, looking around once more to ensure his words hadn't disrupted anyone, or anything. The last thing he wanted now was to draw its attention.
The psychic had told him exactly where to look. The book was in the Special Reference section out back. He looked along the dim corridors of shelves and thought to himself, "yeah, it would be." and set off cautiously down one of the aisles. He tried to move silently, but the floor was of polished wood and he could hear each contact of shoe heel as if it were ringing in his ear. What's more the years were taking their toll and his attempts at stealth caused his bones to creak and joints to crack, each time echoing back to him in the deathly silence of this huge hall.
By the time he reached the Special Reference section his heart was racing, there was a line of sweat on his brow and he felt exhausted. He wondered what the hell he was thinking coming here alone. If it were to catch him he would surely be killed. The severity of his circumstances dawned on him for the first time and his throat made a dry clicking sound as he tried to swallow. He raised his hat, wiped away the sweat and screwed his eyes up and rubbed the tear ducts with his middle fingers.
As he opened his eyes the creature was right in his face, its eyes pulled back into slits, flaps of skin hanging where its mouth should be, the stench of the dead invading his nostrils. He recoiled taking a deep breath so as to scream and as he did so he could taste it’s disgusting decay. Instead of screaming he dry heaved, took another breath and fainted.
The creature looked down at the old man lying on the floor. It knew who he was. It had known he was coming. It had felt his every move since they first met sixty years earlier. But it did nothing. He was exactly where it wanted him to be. It backed away and faded into the shadows. It had no visible mouth so to speak of, but had it had one, it would have been smiling.
Marvin awakened uncertain of where he was. He puffed and groaned as he worked his way into a seated position when his whereabouts finally dawned on him. The memory of coming face to face with that thing spurred him to his feet. He stood up as quickly as his aching parts would allow, breathing short rapid breaths and looking nervously around in case it reappeared. He tried to focus on his purpose for being in this place and began looking around the Special Reference section for the book in question. He found himself drawn to a shelf recess where a large hardback lay. As his fingers curled around the binding he knew it was the one, the book appeared normal but felt anything but. Despite the hardback cover the book felt soft to touch and yielded slightly under the pressure of his fingers like shiny leather over a thin coat of marshmallow, (human flesh), the thought popped into his head before he could stop it. He pushed the thought away and wondered how the book could be the lifeblood of the creature. Perhaps it was a spell book, maybe the whole thing was cursed, afraid of the answer yet driven to succeed he opened the front cover.
He immediately felt the power within the book take a hold over him. He drew a sharp inwards breath and held it, frozen, unable to let go of that thing in his hands, unable to move, unable even to breath out. The pages were filled with sketched images, draw in pencil, it seemed, and not particularly well done. His heart filled with dread as the images began to take shape. Their edges becoming sharply defined before bulging outwards like some twisted pop-up book for demons. The shapes became real. Writhing, twisting tendrils of flesh and bone that looked like reptilian fingers. Each one ended in a forked tongue that flickered and licked like a snake looking for food. The tip of one of these tongues found its way into his nostrils and up into his nasal passages, another squirmed into his mouth, flickering across his tongue and down his throat. The fear and repulsion he had originally felt were suddenly replaced by panic. In his mind he was screaming, thrashing wildly to be free, but he was frozen still, aware of everything, like a patient on an operating table who's a little short on anesthetic.
He felt himself being drained. He was being sucked dry. His skin began to shrivel, his lips pulled back from his mouth in a permanent zombie-like grin, as did his eyelids revealing bulgeous, staring eyeballs. The skin on his nose rotted away and the stench of decomposed flesh became overwhelming.
The last human thought to run through his mind before he died was that it had him. A dawning realization that it had beaten him, and taken his soul for itself. And then he was gone. His human consciousness replaced with nothing but anger and bitterness over what he had become. No longer a man but a slave to evil, a servile creature that would carry out its bidding for as long as It lived. He would be its bitch, delivering fear into the minds of its prey so that It may feed in order to survive.
Little did he know that its next cycle, thirty years from now, would be its last. It would have been little consolation.
Next King book...
Posted: March 1, 2012, 16:16
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Well, the moderator on King’s official board answered a question about this and the answer isn’t good…
No other book is scheduled to be released in 2012 at the moment. The only book manuscript that is completed is Doctor Sleep so unless something was finished and put into production very quickly, it's unlikely--not impossible, but unlikely.
Now, King has been known to surprise us with books from out of the blue before but so far it looks like we’ll have to wait for Doctor Sleep in2013 after finishing Wind Through the Keyhole.
And the Winner is…
Posted: March 1, 2012, 16:15
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And for all you who didn’t win. Don’t be too sad. I will have another very cool contest starting, probably next week, that will have great prizes. Notice how I say prizes :-)
Looks like it will be a Like, share, retwitter contest as well but if anyone has another cool contest idea, let me know.
Two more trailers
Posted: February 29, 2012, 11:40
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Doctor Sleep to be released in 2013
Posted: February 28, 2012, 16:21
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The Wind Through the Keyhole audiobook will also offer an exclusive audio preview of King’s upcoming novel, Doctor Sleep, the eagerly-awaited sequel to his classic, The Shinin, to be published in 2013. Stephen King will also read the excerpt from Doctor Sleep.
King narrates Wind Through the Keyhole
Posted: February 28, 2012, 16:20
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“I’ve spent a lot of time with the character of Roland Deschain and the Dark Tower universe over
the years. Now that I am revisiting that world, it felt like a fine time to lend it my voice,” said King.
The Wind Through the Keyhole audiobook will also offer an exclusive audio preview of King’s upcoming novel, Doctor Sleep, the eagerly-awaited sequel to his classic, The Shinin, to be published in 2013. Stephen King will also read the excerpt from Doctor Sleep.
“We’re thrilled that Steve wanted to return to the studio for THE WIND THROUGH THE KEYHOLE. As his audio fans know, he is a terrific narrator,” says Chris Lynch, Executive Vice President & Publisher of Simon & Schuster Audio. “His choice to preview his follow up to THE SHINING exclusively on audio speaks volumes about his support for the format. We couldn’t be happier.”
Read the entire press release here.
First pages of Dr. Sleep
Posted: February 28, 2012, 01:00
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Contest updates
Posted: February 27, 2012, 23:59
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1) The Stand contest (where you should tell me why I should send you a copy of the audio edition of the book have a winner. First let me tell you that this is probably the hardest decision I have had to make when it comes to selecting a winner. A lot of you have given me very good motivations but in the end I selected Misha Gail at the winner. Here is her motivation:
Dear Lilja
I work on a hospital for terminal ill people and we read books to each other every Friday. If possible I would like the copy of The Stand so that I can bring it to work and let the master read to us for a change. I know everyone would enjoy that a lot.
Best
Misha Gail
2) The Marv story contest. I’m reading and I have some stories left before I have finished all but let me tell you, it won’t be easy to pick a winner. You have all done a great job. I do have a few favorites so far though…
3) The Wind Through the Keyhole contest is still ongoing and you have until Feb. 29 (2 days) to enter. More info about that here.
Dr. Sleep update coming soon?
Posted: February 27, 2012, 13:21
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Any hints on the Doctor Sleep? anything?
To which she replied this:
Will be making an announcement next week.
This was posted late last week so "next week" should mean this week. Stay tuned for more info and to get the latest as soon as I hear it, follow Lilja's Library on facebook and twitter!
Three new clips from The Walking Dead
Posted: February 27, 2012, 12:03
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And here is Robert Krikman talking about the show.
Episode 10 of The Walking Dead
Posted: February 27, 2012, 10:43
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Covers for Wind Through the Keyhole
Posted: February 26, 2012, 02:38
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Full cover for Wind Through the Keyhole
Posted: February 26, 2012, 02:32
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Source: thedarktower.org.
Contest update
Posted: February 26, 2012, 02:13
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And in the Wind Through the Keyhole contest it's been decided if the winner will be drawn from the followers on Facebook or on Twitter and he or she will be drawn from...facebook. So, if you haven't already, head over to facebook and follow Lilja's Library and then Like and Share. Each Like and Share is a chance to win a copy of Grant's edition of Wind Through the Keyhole. Good Luck!
David Morrissey is The Governor
Posted: February 25, 2012, 12:01
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The Governor will appear in The Walking Dead Season 3, a 16-episode order from AMC, which begins production this spring in Atlanta.
Last 24 hours
Posted: February 25, 2012, 00:00
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Last 24 hours of The Stand contest. Tell me why and I might give you a copy of the audio book on CD. But make it good, I have gotten a lot of very good motivations already...Oh, and this edition of the audio won't be available for sale. You will only be able to download it.
More info
Good Luck!
Two Walking Dead clip
Posted: February 24, 2012, 15:24
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Robert Kirkman talks about the show:
King interviews Lauren Grodstein
Posted: February 24, 2012, 13:22
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Thanks to Sara Prigan
My interview with Glen Mazzara
Posted: February 23, 2012, 15:10
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Check out my interview with Glen Mazzara, showrunner for the hit TV series The Walking Dead. In the interview he speaks of his role as showrunner on one of the most popular TV series today as well as the future of characters like The Governor and Michonne and that he wants the series to get closer to Robert Kirkman’s graphical comic.If you want to keep updated on stuff like this, follow Lilja's Library on facebook and twitter.
Black and White illustrations
Posted: February 23, 2012, 09:16
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Follow Lilja's Library on facebook and twitter to find out when more illustrations are released.
Interview with Richard Christian Matheson
Posted: February 23, 2012, 02:44
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Illustrations from the new Dark Tower book
Posted: February 22, 2012, 23:29
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Follow Lilja's Library on facebook and twitter to find out when more illustrations are released.
New scenes from The Shining
Posted: February 22, 2012, 23:28
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Thanks to Anders Jakobson
Another trailer for episode 10 of The Walking Dead
Posted: February 22, 2012, 18:21
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More from King in Savannah
Posted: February 22, 2012, 16:43
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And here are 112 photos from the signing he did.
Next episode of The Walking Dead
Posted: February 22, 2012, 09:14
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Latest news from Grant about the limdition edition of Winf Through the Keyhole. Don't miss this chance to get your copy FREE!!!
Here is a new photo of the Nathan 1/6th scale figure released from Shrunken Head Studios. 
I got some very exciting news today from Rocky Wood. Check it out:
