Full disclosure here: I am a HUGE Stephen King fan. I've been reading Stephen King since I was a teenager, which, sad to say, has been over 20 years. I love the way he writes, I adore the way he tells stories, and I think he is one of the best writers around.

Having said all that, however, let me say this: I'm a little disappointed with his Dark Tower series.

Steve and I go a long way back. As I mentioned, I've been reading him for well over 20 years. I have religiously bought most of his books, admired him, laughed with him and allowed his stories to keep me awake, horrified, as I imagined dark, creepy-crawly things coming out of my walls at night. Quite frankly, I thought he was one of the best writers I'd ever read. Yeah, I've read the John Steinbecks, Tolstoy, and the John Irvings, etc., but few (in my mind) matched Stephen King for flair, hilarity, awe-inspiring horror (I felt like my foot had gotten chopped off after reading Misery) and the sense that I could well relate to the everyday people facing extraording circumstances found in most of his stories. Shawshank Redemption and Quitters, Inc., for example, were two works of fiction that stayed with me for a long, long time.

Through the years, I would buy the latest and greatest Stephen King novel (except for one break in my 20s when, in a particularly snobbish mode, I decided I was too enlightened to read his books) and be satisfied in that way only Stephen King could inspire.

Until I read the Dark Tower series. It was his magnum opus, I was told. It was the culmination of his literary career - his best effort, well, like ever. It was enthralling, readable, and on par with books like the Lord of the Rings trilogy and Homer's Odyssey. (And, yes, I know I was a bit late coming to the fold for the Dark Tower books, but I hate reading a series before it's actually finished - it can be so disappointing to wait and wait and wait for the next installation to come out. (Can anyone say Jean Auel's Earth Children series?))

So, anyway, I finally picked up the entire series about a month ago. It was to be my reward for getting through another tough year in school. I imagined it would keep me company through many lonely and boring days, as my brain took a break from the rigors of higher academics.

The first book - The Gunslinger - was a bit difficult to get through (Stephen King warned in the Introduction that he wrote it as a young man, and it showed). I thought it lacked the polish and descriptive ability found in Stephen King's later works. But it was a good story, so I stuck with it. Knowing the best was yet to come.

Through books two, three, four, five and six. Through new characters being added with some of them being summarily killed, maimed, eaten or dismembered. I did, however, fall in love with the other members of his 'ka-tet' (group of people drawn together by fate - ka) - Susannah, Eddie, Jake and Oy. Just writing those names brings back the memories of all their adventures - the shootouts and misunderstandings. The romance and the killings. The macabre and the delightful. However, by books five and six, I was mightily struggling. What was Stephen King trying to accomplish? Why did his stories range so far and so wide? Why could I not buy into the authenticity of his characters (even the antics of his ka-tet were starting to annoy me with their sheer repitition)? Why did it seem like he was trying so hard to impress me? He did that with no problem through novellas like Running Man and the aforementioned Shawshank Redemption - so why try so hard now? It was almost like he was trying to prove to himself he was a great writer and focused on the immensity of the story he was trying to tell instead of just making it a good story. You are a great writer, Mr. King. Take it from someone who has read you for 20 years.

By book seven, I was only reading the series because I had to know how it ended. I had come so far, that I had to complete this, at times, mystifying journey. So I plodded, I questioned, readily received and, finally, completed this magnum opus and great work of one of my favorite authors. The ending was as disappointing as the journey had become with only a little bit of hope (of romance, love) thrown in almost at the very end.

Why was I left disappointed? For the reasons mentioned and because I really, really, really hated the fact that he put himself in the story in the latter books. Every time I wanted to become unthinkingly involved in the action, he'd reference himself and it would bring me up short. I found myself wondering why he'd do such a thing when it was such a distraction to the main event. Why, Steven, why? And also because the story went on so long that I couldn't clearly define how I felt by the end of it. After reading Lord of the Rings, I felt energized, hopeful, as if I had transcended all time and place and even found it difficult to return to such a humdrum place such as here on Earth. Lord of the Rings not only transported me, it has never let me go, and one of the joys of my life is knowing I will be able to re-read it in the fullness of time.

Stephen King's Dark Tower series, on the other hand, left me puzzled, confused and strangely dissatisfied. I can't give away the story, but I was unhappy with the way the main story lines were resolved. I was saddened, disgusted, moved and disappointed towards the end, but never satisfied. I know that Mr. King says that his stories write themselves and he is just the facilitator, but I wish he had exerted a bit more control over what happened. And that's my take on it.

I'd love to hear what anyone else thought about it.

And perhaps find out I am not alone in my sadness...