s e p t e m B e r 2 0 1 8 7 9 uation. While working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table, they started a family, with Naomi their first born. When the novel Carrie skyrocketed Stephen into the recognition that had elud- ed him, his career was on its trajectory. “I was cognizant that our family was dif- ferent,” Owen King, 41, the youngest sib- ling, says. “However, my parents did every- thing they could to be regular members of the community. They were accessible. They were present. “E veryone knew my old man. He was always at the store, a game, or the movies wearing his old jeans and his ball cap. He’s very ap- proachable. That made a huge difference, so it was a little easier for me to fit in than you might expect. “[Bangor] made it possible for me to have a relatively normal childhood. I don’t know exactly how that played into becom- ing a writer, but I’m grateful for it,” Ow- en says. This grounded sense of self might ex- plain Owen’s earlier works, which striking- ly did not channel his father’s love of hor- ror, nor match Stephen’s prolific output. “I worked so hard for so many years on Double Feature,” Owen says of his 2013 novel. “I came so close to quitting on the book [before I was able] to get to the other side and to have it resemble what I’d origi- nally imagined.” Owen’s hard work paid off. Double Fea- ture drew resounding cheers, with Da- vid Thomas of the New York Times Sunday “Even if I were writing a story set in, say, ancient Greece, I’m sure there’d be a touch of Maine in the landscape I described.” —Owen King