Desperate times

I finished Desperation last night. Perhaps staying up late in the cold and the dark isn't the best time to complete a Stephen King novel. It never ceases to amaze me how, with every book of his, I end up freaked out. And I always cry a little when he kills off one of my favorite characters. This one wasn't one of his greatest, but it was worth a read. (If you're asking what his greatest are, my favorites are: The Stand, Black House, and the Dark Tower series. And if you're not asking, too bad.) I also watched Showgirls, because, hey, why not? Turns out campy fun it was not. Bad it was. Stay away. Elizabeth Berkley's hips scared me way more than King's bogeyman.