I can still remember being 13 or 14 years old and picking up Salem’s Lot of the wire rack at Woolworth’s.  A vampire story in Maine, sounds cool, I thought. At some lonely hour of the night, when Mark Petrie was staving off Danny Glick with a plastic cross from an old monster model…I wasn’t thinking it was so cool. This book scared the shit out of me.

Ben Mears. Mark Petrie. Kurt Barlow. The Marsten House. Just writing this reminds me of that night, sitting in my attic room in Malden waiting for the sun to come up, hoping not to hear something scratch at my window. Damn. I remember writing a short story about a vampire as sort of an homage to Salem’s Lot. My English teacher wanted to put it in the school magazine, but I was far from ready to let the masses read my writing. Oh well.

If you haven’t read this book, I urge you to do so. Especially if the reason you haven’t read it is because you saw one of the two crappy movies based on it. They do not come close to the level of terror that the novel brings.