I read Stephen King’s seminal novel It as soon as the paperback dropped in Scotland, which would be around 1987. I’d been on a voracious King kick ever since discovering his work in 1980, following the BBC broadcast of the Salem’s Lot miniseries. King’s work was the perfect reading material for my teenage years, and with the exception of The Dark Tower series (which I’ve still never read), I consumed his books like fire engulfs dry wood. I have a strong memory of being excited when I read of the then-upcoming novel. Even the title – It – was evocative to me. I was already well versed in the works of HP Lovecraft by the time I was 16, and the title, this one, simple little word, was something that Lovecraft would have used. Oddly enough, as excited as I was to finally read the book, very few memories of actually reading it have remained (and I haven’t read it since), so my review of It, the 2017 movie, is probably going to sound ignorant to some of you. 🙂
AT THE FOOTHILLS OF MADNESS 