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Joe Hill

Joseph Hillstrom King is an American writer of fiction, writing under the pen name of Joe Hill.Hill is the the second child of authors Stephen King and Tabitha King. His younger brother Owen King is also a writer. He has three children.Hill's first book, the limited edition collection 20th Century Ghosts published in 2005 by PS Publishing, showcases fourteen of his short stories and won the Bram Stoker Award for Best Fiction Collection, together with the British Fantasy Award for Best Collection and Best Short Story for "Best New Horror". In October 2007, Hill's mainstream US and UK publishers reprinted 20th Century Ghosts, without the extras published in the 2005 slipcased versions, but including one new story.Hill's first novel, Heart-Shaped Box, was published by William Morrow/HarperCollins on February 13, 2007 and by Victor Gollancz Ltd in UK in March 2007. Simultaneous to these two editions, a limited edition of Heart-Shaped Box was also released by Subterranean Press; it sold out several months prior to publication. The novel reached number 8 on the New York Times bestseller list on April 1, 2007.His new novel Horns was published in 2010.Hill chose to use an abbreviated form of his given name (a reference to executed labor leader Joe Hill, for whom he was named) in 1997, out of a desire to succeed based solely on his own merits instead of as the son of Stephen King. After achieving a degree of independent success, Hill publicly confirmed his identity in 2007 after an article the previous year in Variety broke his cover (although online speculation about Hill's family background had been appearing since 2005).

Joe Hill now has a Tumblr, which can be found here: joehillsthrills.tumblr.com
годы жизни: 1972 – настоящее время

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Jelena Ranđelovićцитирует8 месяцев назад
The inside of her head was a bad place, a dark tunnel full of distracting noise and whirling bats.
Tatiana Severinaцитирует8 месяцев назад
Colin squinted through his own glass of Scotch, peering into the firelight, enjoying the play of the light through the whiskey. A small, philosophical smile played at the corners of his mouth. At last, he said, “We financed a war in Biafra to secure access to their oil fields. By the time we were done, the whole country was littered with bodies. Half a million dead.”
Allie slipped up behind Gwen, put her arms around her, and rested her chin on her head. Gwen leaned back into her embrace and shut her eyes. Allie said, “I guess I’m crossing Biafra off my list of future spring break possibilities. We’ll have to go someplace safer. Like Nicaragua.”
“I know what you’re getting at, Colin,” Arthur told him.
“I’ll say it anyway: none of us—the six of us in this room—directly killed anyone in Biafra. But our country did. The CIA did. They did it for us, so we could live in peace and security. No one rips themselves up with guilt about it every time they fill the tank.”
“Maybe we should. Ever think that?” Gwen asked him.

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