Originally posted here.Sometimes I have a difficult time accepting the seemingly serendipitous connections that appear randomly throughout my life. On Friday, I wrote about my recent re-read of Rage, and Brian mentioned in the comments that Sai King talked about Rage in a kindle single that had just been published that morning.[I feel the need to rant and grumble about the entire concept of kindle singles, but I'm not going to because that's not what this post is about.]Although this sort of thing is happening to me with increasing frequency, it's always a little bit of a shock to have it smack me in the face like that.[ahem]Moving on.I just finished reading Guns, the above mentioned kindle single, and have a bit of a better understanding about what led King to pull Rage from publication. I still can't say that I agree with it, but his reasoning makes sense.My book did not break Cox, Pierce, Carneal, or Loukaitis, or turn them into killers; they found something in my book that spoke to them because they were already broken. Yet I did see Rage as a possible accelerant, which is why I pulled it from sale. You don’t leave a can of gasoline where a boy with firebug tendencies can lay hands on it.I was primarily interested in this section, but the entire essay was worth the short amount of time it takes to read. I doubt that it will change any minds about the issue of gun control, most people are far too set in their positions to even consider a change - as King says, we become like drunks in a barroom, unwilling to even acknowledge that the other side might have some validity - but I think it's abundantly clear to anyone not trapped in an NRA mindset that SOMETHING has to change, and soon.Again, though, as I've said and will continue to say - even when writing non-fiction, it's amazing to me how well King is still able to slip into his teenage self (not a euphemism) and write from the heart of the then instead of the now.As far as I’m concerned, high school sucked when I went, and probably sucks now. I tend to regard people who remember it as the best four years of their lives with caution and a degree of pity. For most kids, it’s a time of doubt, stress, painful self-consciousness, and unhappiness. They’re actually the lucky ones. For the bullied underclass — the wimps, the shrimps, and the girls who are routinely referred to as scags, bags, or hos — it’s four years of misery and two kinds of hate: the kind you feel for yourself and the kind you feel for the jackwads who bump you in the halls, pull down your shorts in gym class, and pick out some charming nickname like Queerboy or Frogface that sticks to you like glue.This essay will cost you a dollar, if you don't have a kindle cos you have some sort of other reader (or even no reader at all), you can use any of the numerous kindle apps to read it (like I did - ranting to myself the whole time). I think it's worth it, but then I'm very much a part of the choir already.