Despite having read most of Stephen King’s works, it took me over two decades after its release to get to Gerald’s Game, and not until I first watched the adaptation on Netflix. After watching the movie, it made me wonder how this could be a full length novel. There just wasn’t enough material to make it work. And after reading the novel, my theory was spot on. There wasn’t enough in here for a full length novel. Ideally, King should have lopped off about two thirds of this novel and made it a novella, but that probably wasn’t commercially viable in the nineties when it was released, which is unfortunate, because at that length I think this could have worked.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, and this novel falls well short of the mark. The premise is good and for the first thirty pages or so, the novel was enjoyable, but it was so thin in terms of plot that there was massive stretches with absolutely nothing go on. So much of the novel was the novel’s protagonist fretting about being handcuffed to the bed while her husband is lying dead on the floor with a heart attack. Granted, it was a traumatic situation, but after a couple hundred pages of that, it got really old. The book dragged. The part at the end with the serial killer is both utterly unrealistic and didn’t add much to the novel. The era of Stephen King that this novel came from was a great one for the king of horror, but this novel was a complete dud.