I disagree. Without Steven King, I would not know to avoid dogs whose owners call "Kujo". I would not have a healthy respect for all motorized lawn equipment, cars that growl, or people with third-degree burns all over their face (Cibola!).
If I see a long tall dude in a duster with a six-shooter on each hip, I know to hide. Old black women who look at you with the thousand mile stare really can see your soul. All our dead pets were buried in homemade coffins, with a cross etched on it.
Oh, and old deserted hotel that play jazz music WITH NO ELECTRICITY...run! REDRUM.
Mr. King usually put out a book a year, back in the good old days. Hubby always got me the latest one as a birthday gift. He asked me why I loved reading those "scary" books. I told him it was my form of aversion therapy....the more scary stuff I read about, the less I was scared.
Bumpity bumpity BUMP!