Under the blanket with The Stand
April 29, 2026 · on The Stand by Stephen King
My parents had a rule when I was young: I could watch any R-rated movie I wanted, as long as it was based on a book I could read first.
This led me to some interesting titles as a kid, and of course pushed me towards the many Stephen King novels that could lead to a fun but terrifying Friday night trip to the video store, and opened the door
to the rest of his catalog, where I could get lost on any given afternoon.
One of the books I found in this period of my youth was The Stand, and it became many firsts for me.
It was the first book I ever read in a single sitting — I could not, would not, put the book down until I knew how it was going to end.
It was the first book over 1,000 pages I'd ever read. If you'd told me before I picked it up that a book could be that long, I would never have believed you. (I think I was 12.)
And it was the first book that really put me inside the story.
Here's the funny part, though: I never felt like I was in The Stand. I didn't picture myself as Randall Flagg, or battling him by anyone's side. I didn't picture myself walking Larry Underwood's Lincoln
Tunnel, or standing at the edge of Mother Abagail's cornfield, or anywhere in the chaos King paints across an emptied country.
I pictured myself in The Neverending Story.
Bastian, hiding from his problems, lost in a book. I remember very clearly sitting in my bed under the cover of a blanket, reading by flashlight with an apple and a sandwich, staying up all night to see what
was on the next page.
To this day it's still one of my favorite reads, but when I look at the map for The Stand, I don't see Boulder or Vegas first. I see a bedroom, a blanket, and a flashlight.