This is King's first novel, and I think it's still his best. Granted, I haven't read all of them, but of the ones I have this is it for me. It's not the creepiest (that honour goes to the bloody clown) and it's not the worthiest (which probably goes to the far less enjoyable The Stand). It is however the punchiest, written before King decided 600+ pages was an appropriate novel length, and I love the focus and concision of it. There's not an indulgent word or subplot here, it's just this tragic little story about a girl so abandoned by society that she turns at last into the monster they've always wanted her to be. There's no great surprises here, which is I think as it should be - these people have arguably got what they deserved, at least some of them, and the rest were happy enough to be bystanders, mostly - mistreat a person often enough and cruelly enough and they'll eventually erupt. It's a shame, in a way, that it didn't happen sooner... and a sad comment that the analysis, in story, of what happened through journalistic reports and so forth is so unwilling to really focus on the shared responsibility of the community around that child, because you just know that's what's going to make sure that this disastrous holocaust of response will inevitably happen again.