The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon

This concept is genius. King manages to accurately capture the mind of a child through not only the infatuation with a famous person, but also the terrifying reality of getting lost. I never felt like I was reading an adult pretending to be a child. This was convincing.

And it was terrifying in a real way. After reading Carrie, I knew Stephen King knew how to write supernatural horror. But this is purely natural horror, something that happens to people, and yes, children, every year. It is an awful thought to ponder.

I've been on a King kick recently, and this was the cherry on top.

Stephen King is always a great storyteller. He has a talent for the linking the things that make us most human to the things we most dread and making us care as much as we fear. During the course of his (usually long) books, he slowly lures us into the places where the supernatural is so close, we can smell the rotting flesh of its last meal on its breath.

I'd expected him to do that again with “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon”. I’d thought I’d get a tense story about the bad things that happen to little girls who get lost in the woods, invoking all the things that lurk in the deep dark and remind us what it feels like to be prey.

Instead, Stephen King did something quite different and wonderful: he narrowed his focus down to the show more internal dialogue that drives Trish, nine years old, almost ten and big for age, to persist in struggling not to die in vast Maine woods that she is alone and lost in.

In some ways, this is a book in which nothing much happens. Trish gets separated from her mother and brother and finds herself lost in the woods and does her best to find a way to walk out again. Yet, from the beginning, I kept wanting to know what happened next and by the end I cared passionately about whether Trish would survive.

Trish is brave and resourceful and unyielding. She’s also, as she tells us from time to time, just a kid. She’s afraid. She’s furious at the unfairness of her situation. She cries. She throws tantrums. Then she persists.

Following along with Trisha, we learn about her (recently divorced) parents, her brother, her best friend and her favourite boy bands. We share her triumphs, her setbacks, her hallucinations and her growing awareness, as the days pass, that death is stalking her.

Trisha has two prized possessions with her, her Red Sox baseball cap, signed by Tom Gordon, her favourite player, and a Sony Walkman that allows her to listen to distance Sox games when the forest night surrounds her. The games become her anchor, a symbol of her hope, a connection to the world she is trying to get back to. Tom Gordon, who is the Sox closer, brought in at the end of the game to close down the other team, becomes the emblem of her courage and the means by which she explains to herself her relationship with growing probability to of her own death. From him she learns that you may be beaten by the other team but you should never be beaten by yourself.

The writing is wonderful, simple on the surface but with flowing rhythms beneath the entrance the ear and build meanings on simple phrases until a verbal Fibonacci Sequence unfolds. Stephen King can take a radio jingle, “Who do you call when your windscreen ‘s busted” and turn it into a leitmotiv for the desire for rescue. The pace is perfectly controlled and cleverly structured around the innings of a baseball game.

I recommend the audiobook version of “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon”. It’s performed by Anne Hech, who does a superb job of making Trisha real and made this an even better read. show less

Stephen King knows how to tell you a story, and tell it masterfully. After just a few lines, there you are, lost in the woods together with Trisha (who is awesome).

The woods are real, as well as the fear, the panic, the hunger, things hiding and watching you in the dark. Slowly, the outside world disappears and Walkman radio is the only link to the rest of humanity.

I believe that I’ve read very few books that follow a single character, have a relatively small scope, and don’t let you catch your breath. How was this done? The power of the writing is impressive. I liked the descriptions of nature, various details, and Trisha's inner monologues.

I liked that the reader was free to choose both rational and supernatural explanations for show more things that happen in the woods. I found myself somewhere in the middle.

The ending was a catharsis. Thanks to Nataliya for letting me know this book existed :) show less

Book on CD performed by Anne Heche

A young girl who loves baseball (and particularly one Red Sox player) takes a few steps off the path when on a hike through the Appalachian Trail with her mother and older brother. In the blink of an eye, she is lost and trying very hard not to be terrified.

King is a master craftsman and he is never better than when playing on all our childhood (and adult) fears, magnifying them tenfold and letting his (and our) imagination carry us away.

I loved Trisha McFarland! She’s resilient, intelligent, and brave. She’s also young and makes some wrong decisions which get her farther into trouble. (Number one rule of being lost in the woods – STOP moving, stay put and wait for rescue … but if she’d show more followed that rule there wouldn’t be much to the novel.)

I grew up going camping with my family. We slept out in the open (no tent), though we usually had a tarp of some kind to keep off the rain. But I don’t think I could fare half so well as young Trisha did. She remembered a science class that helped her, and lessons her mother imparted on other nature hikes helped her forage for a few berries or edible ferns.

This is not to say that she had an easy time of it. The “tough tootsie” voice in her head definitely shoots holes in each theory and idea Trisha has, filling her with doubt and increasing her fears. The noises and violence of nature can be frightening and shocking to anyone, let alone a nine-year-old town girl, not accustomed to such experiences. It’s easy to imagine boogie men and monsters lurking in the dark (not to mention the real dangers of snakes, poisonous plants and predators). The best thing she did, however, was keep her spirits up by relying on her beloved Tom Gordon, the Red Sox “closer.” It was those “conversations,” and using her Walkman to listen to the ball games, that sustained her and gave her hope and courage.

Anne Heche did a marvelous job of performing the audio version. She knocked it out of the park! 5**** for her narration. show less

Trisha ist neun Jahre alt. Und sie verläuft sich im Wald. King nimmt uns in seinem Roman Das Mädchen mit auf Trishas Weg und schafft es, dass man sich auch als Erwachsener zur rechten Zeit angenehm gruselt. Dabei ist es nicht immer das Ding, das Trisha verfolgt, vor dem ich mich gefürchtet habe. Nein, es sind die Momente, in denen Trisha Entscheidungen fällt, bei denen ich mich frage, wie ich wohl selbst reagiert hätte. Hätte ich einfach so einen Fisch gefangen und roh gegessen? Hätte ich das Wasser aus dem Bach getrunken, ohne vorher mehrfach darüber nachzudenken, welche Krankheiten das auslösen könnte? Ich weiß es nicht.

Trisha mutierte vor meinen Augen vom unbeschwerten, aufgeweckten Mädchen zur alten Frau, die von show more Instinkten getrieben wird, die ihr Handeln bestimmen. Instinkte, die in jedem von uns tief verborgen schlummern. Neun Tage ist Trisha allein im Wald unterwegs. Sie wird von einem Wespenschwarm übel zugerichtet, holt sich einen Brechdurchfall vom Feinsten durch das nicht abgekochte Bachwasser, wandert durch einen Sumpf, an dessen Ende sie einen getöteten Weißhirsch in zwei Teilen findet. Sie wird krank, fiebert und fantasiert. Begleitet wird sie von Tom Gordon, ihrem Lieblingsbaseballspieler der Red Sox, der natürlich nicht da ist. Und immer wieder scheint sie etwas zu verfolgen und sie zu beobachten: Der Gott der Verirrten.

Es wird nie deutlich, wieviel von diesem Gott der Verirrten real oder einfach nur Trishas Einbildung ist. Für sie jedenfalls ist er real. Oder war es am Ende doch nur ein Bär? So richtig, kann man das als Leser nicht sagen, auch wenn die die Perspektive manchmal Trishas Sicht verlässt und von einem dritten Erzähler beschrieben wird. Existiert er also doch?

Bis zum Ende findet sich darauf keine Antwort. Hier kann wohl jeder Leser für sich selbst entscheiden, was echt ist.

Für mich ist das Buch faszinierend und spannend. Ich wiederhole mich, wenn ich sage, dass King Menschen schreiben kann. Der Gruselfaktor hier ergibt sich aus der Gesamtsituation. Sich im Wald zu verlaufen ist, so denke ich, für viele Menschen keine schöne Vorstellung. Ein Buch, nicht nur für Stephen King-Fans. show less

Once upon a time,

there lived a man who wrote books that scared the bejabbers out of people. This man’s name was Stephen King—but for the purposes of this little fable, we’ll just call him by his rightful pop-lit title: the King.

The King lived in a big mansion on a hill in the land of Maine. This was the laboratory where he carried out his experiments on the minds of people he called Gentle Readers, experiments which resulted in dry mouths, clammy palms and—very occasionally—cardiac arrest. The mansion echoed with the shrieks and howls of all those Gentle Readers who had read products of the laboratory: the monsters of pulp, paper and ink.

The King called these books ’Salem’s Lot, The Shining, The Dead Zone and Desperation show more (to name just a very few).

These books sent Gentle Readers running into the streets, eyes rolling, hair sticking up like exclamation points, hands clutched to their chests. Gentle Readers bought night lights, sought therapy, swallowed sleeping pills and never, ever looked under the bed before they went to sleep.

The King sat in his Maine mansion, rubbed his ink-stained hands and chuckled. It sure was fun scaring the bejabbers out of people.

The King rose to fame and fortune and was eventually crowned King of Horror (not to mention King of the NY Times Bestseller List). The King accepted his crown graciously and promised to never let things go to his royal head.

Eventually, however, the King grew restless, perhaps even bored and despondent. Scaring people was no longer enough. He wanted to be taken seriously, dammit. He was—deep down in his black, blood-filled heart—a Serious Writer. And so, he went back to the laboratory and produced experiments which brought out his warm, fuzzy side.

The King called these books Rose Madder, Insomnia and Hearts in Atlantis (to name just a few).

While his Gentle Readers remained faithful, some of the local citizenry began to murmur among themselves, saying, “He’s lost his touch�€? and “I read that last book of his and it ain’t scary. Hell, watching a half-hour of Tori Spelling on TV’s scarier’n that Gerald’s Game.â€? There was even talk of taking up pitchforks and torches and storming the mansion on the hill.

The King sat on his throne in his house on the hill and when he heard the peasants grumbling, he was greatly disturbed. The Gentle Readers, it seemed, were turning into Rough Readers.

The King paced back and forth, his brain bubbling and foaming with inspiration. Two camps of thought waged war—sort of like that devil and angel which pop onto shoulders of people wrestling with a decision—how to stay true to his horror roots while reaching for the Serious Writer crown?

He paced. He thought. He bubbled and foamed.

Then he started to write.

When he emerged from the laboratory, he held in his hands a slender little volume—his thinnest full-length novel since Carrie, that first experiment so very long ago. The King looked down at his wispy creation, smiled, got a little misty around the eyes, then said, “Go forth and scare people…but, at the same time, touch their hearts and give them something to think about.â€? Then he released the book into the world.

It was named The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon and, lo, it was very, very good. As predicted, all those people with the pitchforks and torches helped make it a number-one bestseller.

One day, a Gentle Reader (for the purposes of this fable, we’ll call him David) happens to be walking by the big plateglass window of his local Books R Us and sees the King’s latest work beckoning for him to step inside and whip out his credit card. With equal parts anticipation and trepidation (this is how David always approaches the King’s experiments), he takes The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon home with him and starts reading.

The world had teeth and it could bite you with them anytime it wanted.

Talk about your first sentence! David keeps reading and is soon caught up in the story of nine-year-old Trisha McFarland who sets off for a hike along the Appalachian Trail with her mother and brother. Trisha lags behind because mother and brother are arguing about something silly, and besides, she really has to pee.

So she steps off the path to answer nature’s call.

Big mistake.

Then, she thinks she can take a shortcut through the woods to get back on the trail and catch up with the others.

Bigger mistake.

In less time than it takes to say “Which side of a tree does moss grow on?,â€? Trisha is hopelessly lost, plunging deeper and deeper into the Maine woods.

The woods were full of everything you didn’t like, everything you were afraid of and instinctively loathed, everything that tried to overwhelm you with nasty, no-brain panic.

For comfort, she tunes her Walkman radio to Boston Red Sox games and listens as her favorite pitcher, Tom Gordon, helps save his team in the final innings of playoff games. This helps take her mind off all the terrible, horrible things that threaten her safety: wasp stings, a fall down the side of a hill, dysentery, a boggy swamp and constant hunger.

David keeps reading, plunging deeper and deeper into the book until his world becomes the world between the covers and he can smell the forest around little Trisha, can taste the fiddlehead ferns she ate to survive and can hear the ominous grunts of the thing that stalked her through the trees.

Oh, yes, there is a thing, a creepy presence which the King reveals in staccato glimpses, teasing the reader into a sense of growing dread. It is dark, it has claws and—worst of all—it has patience.

It’s the thing that waits for the lost ones. It lets them wander until they’re good and scared—because fear makes them taste better, it sweetens the flesh—and then it comes for them.

In his Maine mansion, the King rubs his blood-stained hands together and grins a wolfish grin. “You see?â€? he tells the Gentle Readers, “I can be serious and scary all at the same time.â€?

David, flipping the pages faster and faster, nods in agreement. “This is the very best King I’ve read in a long time,â€? he whispers (whispering because he’s afraid of rousing the thing which, even now, he fears is crouched right behind him, warming the back of his neck with its stinking rotted breath).

David agrees that this is an exceedingly successful experiment. The King has managed to burrow inside a nine-year-old girl’s mind, making her completely believable and endearing—a good thing since the novel is practically a soliloquy. The serious-side of the King talks about bravery and faith and all those other cognitive traits which separate Gentle Readers from the rest of the animal kingdom. The scary-side, the dark half of the King reminds us that the forest is a primeval place, a dangerous haunt full of noise and shadow. The King knows what he’s doing here when he takes Gentle Readers into the woods of Red Riding Hood, Young Goodman Brown and Disney’s Snow White.

David reluctantly closes the book after the last page is turned, unwilling to completely leave Trisha’s world behind. He’s shivering, but he’s also smiling.

And they all—Trisha, Gentle Readers with pitchforks, and the King—lived happily ever after.

THE END show less

Trisha McFarland is a nine year old who is going hiking with her mom and older brother. As the hike begins, the mom and teenage brother are busy arguing once again and Trisha who is walking behind them, decides to veer off and use the bathroom in the woods. She figures she won't be missed and she even hopes that her mom and brother might look back and be scared once they realize she's gone, since they've been paying her no mind.

Once she's done using the bathroom, Trisha decides to take a shortcut through the woods, instead of going back to the trail. Within minutes, she's completely lost. Her brother and mom still haven't even realized she's not walking behind them anymore.

"Trisha turned back toward the slope, and then turned around show more again as the worst idea of her life came to her. This idea was to go forward instead of backtracking to the Kezar Notch trail. The paths had forked in a Y; she would simply walk across the gap and rejoin the main trail. Piece of cake. There was no change of getting lost, because she could hear the voices of the other hikers so clearly. There was really no chance of getting lost at all."
p.21

Days roll into nights and the deeper she walks into the woods, the worse it is for her. Soon enough, Trisha realizes she is not alone, something is following her. She can't see it, but she knows it's there. This 'something' is leaving dead animal carcasses and claw marks on trees. Trisha's poor sense of direction continues to lead her further and further into the deep woods.

Do you know what amazes me most about this book? The fact that Stephen King can write a story about a nine year old girl being lost in the woods and turn it into a tense, creepy, page turner. I decided to re-read The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon one weekend and it was a nice dose of horror.

Characterization is wonderful here as per King's usual. Trisha's parents are divorced, while in the woods she has flashbacks of her mom and dad. She wonders how she could have been sitting in her car one minute, and lost in the woods the next. You can't help but root for her and be scared for her too. King doesn't miss a beat though, Trisha hallucinates at times as the exhaustion and stress take their toll on her. As I read I could easily envision the dense woods, the sounds of birds, the fear Trisha felt.

You don't really know what is following Trisha, whether it's a bear or a monster. King does a fantastic job at making you scared of something that hasn't even shown itself yet. It's simply the thought of that monster in the woods that is really scary.

"The unreliable moonlight had changed the shapes of the trees, had turned them into bone faces with black eyes. The sound of two branches rubbing together became the clotted croon of a monster. Trisha turned in a clumsy circle, trying to look everywhere at once, her eyes rolling in her muddy face."
p.98

I recommend The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon to all King fans or to anyone looking for a quick dose of horror. This one is mild compared to his other works, so if you are new to this author and are looking to read one of his books that isn't too scary, I think this is a good choice.

The fear of the unknown, inner strength, courage and hope are what lies at the core of this scary story. King delivers here and I'm glad I re-read this one. King has a knack for creating young characters that the reader can root for and care about.

Disclaimer:
This review is my honest opinion. I did not receive any type of compensation for reading and reviewing this book. While I receive free books from publishers and authors, I am under no obligation to write a positive review. I purchased my copy of this book. show less