You’re really never too old for a good book. I love Harry. And old Stephen King—before he became too self-indulgent (Gunslinger series). Like Bruce Springsteen, before he became too self-indulgent. Because let’s face it, Bruce did his best stuff when he was living at home and his father was beating the crap out of him. Then he got married, got happy, moved to Beverly Hills, and went from “Lost in the Flood” to “57 Channels and Nothin’ On.” His best album is still his first. Stephen King: same thing. His best, in my humble opinion, are his early books: It, The Talisman, The Stand, Pet Cemetery, Carrie, Christine. Pet Cemetery scared the crap out of me. The book. I think at one point I screamed out loud. At a book.
You can really divide the world into two categories: those who understand screaming out loud at a book, and those that just don’t get it. And did you notice the book to the left of the Harry books? “Eats, Shoots and Leaves.” If you haven’t read it, go get it. It’s a great book. Of course, I’m an admitted grammar and punctuation geek, so go figure.