Thad grows up to be a tweedy English-lit type played by Tim Hutton, who publishes a few novels that the critics love but the public ignores. As he works it up, the writer, given the effete name of "Thad Beaumont," is in his childhood assailed with headaches surgeons operate and discover a brain tumor which, upon close examination, turns out to be the literal remains of his twin, absorbed during gestation. Then he comes out of the study and says, "Honey, is there any more Diet Coke?"įascinated by this curiosity, King gives it his customary bludgeon-to-the-cerebellum treatment, separating the writer into two distinct forces.
Consider the novelist, any novelist, but King in particular: a mild-mannered, extremely pleasant and on the face of it unremarkable man who sits in an office all day long tap-tap-tapping away to the sound of rock music yet what all that damned tapping produces is a nightscape of fear, pain, horror and slaughter, terrible beasts from the super ego, childhoods haunted with violence and guilt. Anyway, the clear origin of the piece is the writer's curious duality, a theme that has obsessed King and many writers of greater and lesser talent.
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