Let me start by saying this: if you're expecting a classic horror novel from Stephen King, think again. 'Fairy Tale' is a genre-bending masterpiece that blends fantasy, coming-of-age drama, and just enough darkness to remind you it's still a King novel.

The protagonist, Charlie Reade, is one of the most relatable characters I've encountered in recent reads. His journey from a troubled teen caring for an alcoholic father to an unlikely hero in the cursed world of Empis feels raw and genuine. The bond he forms with Radar the dog? Absolutely heartwarming—until it becomes heartbreaking (no spoilers, but prepare tissues).

King's world-building is spectacular. Empis isn't some Disneyfied fairyland—it's a decaying realm where butterflies are blood-red and mermaids rot in fountains. The grotesque yet poetic descriptions had me equal parts fascinated and horrified. That shed portal? Pure nightmare fuel disguised as mundane.

What surprised me most was how emotionally invested I became. When Mr. Bowditch died early on (sorry, minor spoiler), I actually paused my audiobook to process it—and I rarely do that. Seth Numrich's narration adds layers to an already immersive experience.

The pacing does drag slightly in the middle third during Charlie's Empis trials, but stick with it. The payoff—especially regarding Radar's fate and Charlie's final confrontation with the tyrant—is quintessential King: bittersweet, profound, and lingering in your mind for days.

Is it perfect? No. Charlie's constant 'I'm no hero' refrain gets repetitive, and his 'dark secret' underwhelms. But these are nitpicks in what's otherwise a stunning departure from King's usual fare.

Final verdict: Whether you're a diehard Constant Reader or new to King altogether, 'Fairy Tale' delivers magic—the kind that stains your hands grey and leaves you questioning what lurks in ordinary sheds.