Be Brave

I’ve been an avid reader ever since I can remember, but one author I’ve stayed away from is Stephen King. I know he’s sold millions and millions of books, consistently won the Bram Stoker Award from the Horror Writer’s Association, and has a best-selling book on how to write. But, as Bill Thompson, his editor at Doubleday, feared might happen after King wrote “Carrie” and “Salem’s Lot,” King has gotten “typed” as a horror writer. Thompson thought that a detriment, but King considered his words a compliment.

I read fiction and non-fiction, mysteries and biographies, science fiction and cereal boxes, but I draw the line at books filled with horror. I watched a clip of Margaret Hamilton’s conversation with Mr. Rogers, as she told about her experience of being cast as the Wicked Witch of the West. Mr. Rogers asked her to put on her costume, piece by piece, and I shivered as she transformed into the scariest character of my childhood. I still cover my eyes and ears when she appears on the route to Oz. Given that sensitivity, I certainly don’t need to be scared out of my wits by King’s characters, especially on a dark and stormy night.

“The Shining” is a perfect example of why I don’t read King. He describes his motivation to write the book that came during a night in the Stanley Hotel shortly before it closed for the season. He and his wife were the only guests in the place, and after some bizarre experiences, he went to bed. “That night I dreamed of my three-year-old son running through the corridors, looking back over his shoulder, eyes wide, screaming. He was being chased by a fire-hose. I woke up with a tremendous jerk, sweating all over, within an inch of falling out of bed.” That was his inspiration – the novel is far scarier!

I saw the master of fear’s tweet regarding the current political campaign that will end this Tuesday (finally!). King tweeted: “Donald Trump’s campaign message in two words: Be afraid.My campaign message in two words: Be brave.” 

Here’s a writer who has become wealthy by scaring the bejesus out of millions of people. Stephen King is the expert on what draws out fear in humans. Regardless of his political leaning, I find his words credible. He knows fear when he sees it, smells it.

Fear comes in an assortment of sizes and shapes. Small children, with limited life experience, can be afraid of many things. The delightful and determined Elizabeth Holiday, intrepid explorer that she is, shakes with fear when someone uses those new-fangled hand driers at the mall. Mr. Rogers sang about another bathroom fear, when he reassured his viewers, “you can never go down the drain – you’re bigger than the water, and bigger than the soap.” 

In adulthood, common fears of public speaking, heights, bugs and snakes top most surveys, with zombies, clowns, ghosts, and an invasion of Honduran refugees at the bottom of the list. As we age, we fear losing our hair and hearing, and more seriously, our health, our minds, our resources, and our lives. We can choose to live in fear of what may or may not happen, irrational or rational as our fear may be. Or we can, as King suggests, be brave.

Because ultimately, Stephen King’s tweet stretches far beyond phobias and politics. In choosing between fear and courage, we decide every day, every hour, who we will be as individuals, and who we will be as a community, a nation. Can we bravely stand with the words of Dwight D. Eisenhower? “This world of ours . . . must avoid becoming a community of dreadful fear and hate, and be, instead, a proud confederation of mutual trust and respect.” 

When we wake up in the morning, when our children climb the steps of the school bus, when we enter the synagogue or sanctuary, and yes, even when we pull the curtain on the voting booth (which I urge you to do), we decide whether fear or courage will be in the driver’s seat of our lives. Can we trust that we are bigger than the water, bigger than the soap?