A Book A Week

Some authors are born to tell stories. Joe Hill practically had no choice. As the son of Stephen King, he could’ve coasted on a famous name, but instead, he built his own empire of horror and heartbreak. Over the years, he’s crafted sprawling, genre-bending novels like N0S4A2 and The Fireman that left a lasting impression on me. It’s been several years since his last release, so I’ve been not-so-patiently waiting for another. That wait finally ended this week with King Sorrow, a nearly 900-page behemoth that draws on Arthurian legend to thrill, haunt, and completely consume readers anew. 

To attempt to summarize the breadth of King Sorrow would be futile. It’s an epic in every sense, sprawling across twenty-five years and a cast of six central characters whose fates are bound by blood, guilt, and something far older than any of them can comprehend. But here’s the gist. Arthur is a student and aspiring author working in his university’s library when he crosses paths with a group of shady opportunists. Their plan? To steal from the library’s collection of rare and historic books and sell the treasures for a quick profit.

Desperate to free himself from the mess he’s been dragged into, Arthur turns to his closest friends for help. Together, they hatch a plan that blurs the line between legend and madness. They plot to use one of the stolen texts—a centuries-old volume known as the Crane Journal, said to be bound in the very skin of its author—to summon a dragon to protect them. But their wish comes with a cost. To keep the dragon’s loyalty, they must offer it a soul every year. Fail to pay the price, and the creature will simply feast on one of their own instead. 

King Sorrow finds Joe Hill doing what he does best, spinning a story rich with mythology, layered characters, and a truly terrifying dragon at its core. When Hill’s publisher offered me a copy to review, I was hesitant at first. For someone who reads a book a week, a novel clocking in at nearly 900 pages is no small commitment. But I trusted Hill, and for the first few hundred pages, that trust felt well placed. The story moved with energy and confidence, rewarding my patience with moments of pure awe.

But then it kept going. And going. Somewhere around the midpoint, my connection to the characters and the story began to wane. The highs of this book are undeniable—there are scenes that will absolutely take your breath away—but the sheer length dulled their impact for me. It’s an epic with an epic scale, and I suspect many readers will be completely swept away by it. I just wasn’t one of them.

Hill has said he plans to release a new book every year for the next decade, promising the next one will be shorter. As a longtime fan, I’ll be there for it. For now, King Sorrow was simply too much book for me to handle.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 85)