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11/22/63: A Novel MP3 CD – Audiobook, MP3 Audio, Unabridged

4.5 out of 5 stars 116 customer reviews

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Product Details

  • MP3 CD
  • Publisher: Simon & Schuster Audio; Unabridged edition (Nov. 8 2011)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 144234430X
  • ISBN-13: 978-1442344303
  • Product Dimensions: 13 x 1.5 x 14.9 cm
  • Shipping Weight: 136 g
  • Average Customer Review: 4.5 out of 5 stars 116 customer reviews
  • Amazon Bestsellers Rank: #380,698 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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Product Description

About the Author

Stephen King is the author of more than fifty books, all of them worldwide bestsellers. His recent work includes End of Watch, the short story collection The Bazaar of Bad Dreams, Finders Keepers, Mr. Mercedes (an Edgar Award winner for Best Novel), Doctor Sleep, and Under the Dome. His novel 11/22/63—a recent Hulu original television series event—was named a top ten book of 2011 by The New York Times Book Review and won the Los Angeles Times Book Prize for Mystery/Thriller as well as the Best Hardcover Book Award from the International Thriller Writers. His epic series, The Dark Tower, is the basis for a major motion picture from Sony. He is the recipient of the 2014 National Medal of Arts and the 2003 National Book Foundation Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. He lives in Bangor, Maine, with his wife, novelist Tabitha King.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


On Monday, March 25, Lee came walking up Neely Street carrying a long package wrapped in brown paper. Peering through a tiny crack in the curtains, I could see the words REGISTERED and INSURED stamped on it in big red letters. For the first time I thought he seemed furtive and nervous, actually looking around at his exterior surroundings instead of at the spooky furniture deep in his head. I knew what was in the package: a 6.5mm Carcano rifle—also known as a Mannlicher-Carcano—complete with scope, purchased from Klein’s Sporting Goods in Chicago. Five minutes after he climbed the outside stairs to the second floor, the gun Lee would use to change history was in a closet above my head. Marina took the famous pictures of him holding it just outside my living room window six days later, but I didn’t see it. That was a Sunday, and I was in Jodie. As the tenth grew closer, those weekends with Sadie had become the most important, the dearest, things in my life.


I came awake with a jerk, hearing someone mutter “Still not too late” under his breath. I realized it was me and shut up.

Sadie murmured some thick protest and turned over in bed. The familiar squeak of the springs locked me in place and time: the Candlewood Bungalows, April 5, 1963. I fumbled my watch from the nightstand and peered at the luminous numbers. It was quarter past two in the morning, which meant it was actually the sixth of April.

Still not too late.

Not too late for what? To back off, to let well enough alone? Or bad enough, come to that? The idea of backing off was attractive, God knew. If I went ahead and things went wrong, this could be my last night with Sadie. Ever.

Even if you do have to kill him, you don’t have to do it right away.

True enough. Oswald was going to relocate to New Orleans for awhile after the attempt on the general’s life—another shitty apartment, one I’d already visited—but not for two weeks. That would give me plenty of time to stop his clock. But I sensed it would be a mistake to wait very long. I might find reasons to keep on waiting. The best one was beside me in this bed: long, lovely, and smoothly naked. Maybe she was just another trap laid by the obdurate past, but that didn’t matter, because I loved her. And I could envision a scenario—all too clearly—where I’d have to run after killing Oswald. Run where? Back to Maine, of course. Hoping I could stay ahead of the cops just long enough to get to the rabbit-hole and escape into a future where Sadie Dunhill would be . . . well . . . about eighty years old. If she were alive at all. Given her cigarette habit, that would be like rolling six the hard way.

I got up and went to the window. Only a few of the bungalows were occupied on this early-spring weekend. There was a mud- or manure-splattered pickup truck with a trailer full of what looked like farm implements behind it. An Indian motorcycle with a sidecar. A couple of station wagons. And a two-tone Plymouth Fury. The moon was sliding in and out of thin clouds and it wasn’t possible to make out the color of the car’s lower half by that stuttery light, but I was pretty sure I knew what it was, anyway.

I pulled on my pants, undershirt, and shoes. Then I slipped out of the cabin and walked across the courtyard. The chilly air bit at my bed-warm skin, but I barely felt it. Yes, the car was a Fury, and yes, it was white over red, but this one wasn’t from Maine or Arkansas; the plate was Oklahoma, and the decal in the rear window read GO, SOONERS. I peeked in and saw a scatter of textbooks. Some student, maybe headed south to visit his folks on spring break. Or a couple of horny teachers taking advantage of the Candlewood’s liberal guest policy.

Just another not-quite-on-key chime as the past harmonized with itself. I touched the trunk, as I had back in Lisbon Falls, then returned to the bungalow. Sadie had pushed the sheet down to her waist, and when I came in, the draft of cool air woke her up. She sat, holding the sheet over her breasts, then let it drop when she saw it was me.

“Can’t sleep, honey?”

“I had a bad dream and went out for some air.”

“What was it?”

I unbuttoned my jeans, kicked off my loafers. “Can’t remember.”

“Try. My mother always used to say if you tell your dreams, they won’t come true.”

I got into bed with her wearing nothing but my undershirt. “My mother used to say if you kiss your honey, they won’t come true.”

“Did she actually say that?”


“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “it sounds possible. Let’s try it.”

We tried it.

One thing led to another.


Afterward, she lit a cigarette. I lay watching the smoke drift up and turn blue in the occasional moonlight coming through the half-drawn curtains. I’d never leave the curtains that way at Neely Street, I thought. At Neely Street, in my other life, I’m always alone but still careful to close them all the way. Except when I’m peeking, that is. Lurking.

Just then I didn’t like myself very much.


I sighed. “That’s not my name.”

“I know.”

I looked at her. She inhaled deeply, enjoying her cigarette guiltlessly, as people do in the Land of Ago. “I don’t have any inside information, if that’s what you’re thinking. But it stands to reason. The rest of your past is made up, after all. And I’m glad. I don’t like George all that much. It’s kind of . . . what’s that word you use sometimes? . . . kind of dorky.”

“How does Jake suit you?”

“As in Jacob?”


“I like it.” She turned to me. “In the Bible, Jacob wrestled an angel. And you’re wrestling, too. Aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am, but not with an angel.” Although Lee Oswald didn’t make much of a devil, either. I liked George de Mohren--schildt better for the devil role. In the Bible, Satan’s a tempter who makes the offer and then stands aside. I hoped de Mohrenschildt was like that.

Sadie snubbed her cigarette. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were dark. “Are you going to be hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going away? Because if you have to go away, I’m not sure I can stand it. I would have died before I said it when I was there, but Reno was a nightmare. Losing you for good . . .” She shook her head slowly. “No, I’m not sure I could stand that.”

“I want to marry you,” I said.

“My God,” she said softly. “Just when I’m ready to say it’ll never happen, Jake-alias-George says right now.”

“Not right now, but if the next week goes the way I hope it does . . . will you?”

“Of course. But I do have to ask one teensy question.”

“Am I single? Legally single? Is that what you want to know?”

She nodded.

“I am,” I said.

She let out a comic sigh and grinned like a kid. Then she sobered. “Can I help you? Let me help you.”

The thought turned me cold, and she must have seen it. Her lower lip crept into her mouth. She bit down on it with her teeth. “That bad, then,” she said musingly.

“Let’s put it this way: I’m currently close to a big machine full of sharp teeth, and it’s running full speed. I won’t allow you next to me while I’m monkeying with it.”

“When is it?” she asked. “Your . . . I don’t know . . . your date with destiny?”

“Still to be determined.” I had a feeling that I’d said too much already, but since I’d come this far, I decided to go a little farther. “Something’s going to happen this Wednesday night. Something I have to witness. Then I’ll decide.”

“Is there no way I can help you?”

“I don’t think so, honey.”

“If it turns out I can—”

“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that. And you really will marry me?”

“Now that I know your name is Jake? Of course.” --This text refers to the Paperback edition.

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Customer Reviews

Top Customer Reviews

Format: Hardcover
Stephen King is a master storyteller. We all know this. So I should not have been surprised to have been swept away from the get go and taken to the Land of Ago, but I was. I was! I walked with Jake Epping through the 50s and 60s and into my own past.

11/22/63 as the title implies is a story centered on one, of the far too many, watershed moments of our lives: the assassination of John F Kennedy. Jake Epping, a middle aged high school teacher reads a story by one of his adult students, a gruesome, heart wrenching, true story, that brings him to tears, not a common response; no wait an extremely rare, response from Jake. Shortly thereafter Jake receives a call from a local diner owner, who has a portal to the past to show him and a story to tell. He also has cancer and is enlisting Jake to act on his behalf, go back in time and save John F. Kennedy. But this is King so there are rules and Jake now has his own little bit of history that he would like to see changed.

I was taken on a journey by the King's own hand, held captive from cover to cover. And beyond! I'm not going to go in to this story. If you want a fantastic experience read it for yourselves, because it is King's story that you need to hear. Let me just say that in his masterful hands you are transported in time to the late 50's, early 60's and that he is spot on! Everything is slower, simpler, a time of Glenn Miller and swing, with 59 Chevy's and fins that went on forever! Cleaner air, unpreserved, delicious home cooking, friendly, trusting people, no cell phones, pre -Vietnam America! Camelot! Of course there is the other side of this era, from which King does not shy away: racism, domestic violence, cold wars and every ounce of oxygen polluted with first and second hand smoke.
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Format: Hardcover
All of King's books carry high expectations given his prolific record of entertainment. Personally, I could not wait for 11/22/63. The premise of time travel and the incredible event the author chooses to explore make for an engaging premise. Mix in the fact that King first envisioned this book in 1971 and one can not help but be intrigued. However, I found enjoyment less in the time travel, Presidential assassination, and conspiracy aspects than I did in his descriptions, tone and atmosphere of the period he captures and the characters he builds and so effortlessly makes to interact in authentic and believable ways.

Having read King's reviews and views in Entertainment Weekly, I know he and I share an admiration of author Richard Russo. The characters Russo brings to life could easily be people we know or bump into in our daily interactions. And I believe that King has comparable skills in this area but is often not recognized as we all debate his horror plots more than we credit his admirable writing skills. He is extremely self-deprecating in this regard having been quoted as saying, "I am the literary equivalent of a Big Mac and Fries."

The metaphysical time travel aspects of the book may slightly disappoint. The JFK assassination will always fascinate even though King is clear on his view of a broader conspiracy. So those two aspects are worthy reasons alone to read this book, however, the value and entertainment are found in King's exploration of human motivations, frailties, and relationships. His true skills are often over shadowed given his subject matter of vampires, haunted hotels, alien encounters, malevolent evil, and other dimensions. I am hopeful that when his career is viewed in the aggregate, it will be debated and discussed for its true contribution in exploring the balance of good and evil and how that conflict roars in each and every individual.
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Format: Hardcover
I am a fan of Stephen Kings. A Constant Reader if you will. However I do admit to enjoying some of his books more than others. This book, 11/22/63 is one of those books. I began reading with no expectations and was delighted. I found myself engaged by the characters and the lived world of the people in the story. I was curious about how the story would end but not so much that I wanted to skip to the end. This is one of his best books. Like the main character I learned about this time period in my history class in high school and now I am curious to know more. If you have a teenager who is not really a reader and has a history project this book might spark his/her imagination. It did mine. I definitely recommend this book - even to non-fans. The supernatural element is minimal, secondary even. I actually cried a little at the end (and not over the assassination or time travel). Won't give away the plot. ;-)
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Format: Hardcover Verified Purchase
Don't let Stephen King's reputation for horror keep you from reading this. Nor the time travel. It is neither horror nor traditional sci-fi. It is a well constructed, thoughtful story of "what if". It has a fair amount of violence after the first 500 pages, but nothing like The Stand or Under the Dome. It is necessary violence, even when it seems superfluous. Keep reading and it will make sense. I was, once again, stunned by Stephen King's ability to write perfect sentence after perfect sentence, while bringing the characters and setting alive in a few words. The plot is highly creative. I enjoyed it heartily but started getting a little antsy a couple hundred pages into it when I realized that foiling JFK's assassination was not the main focus for the foreseeable chapters. It seemed a side story was taking over. However, once I got over that, I sat back and enjoyed this whopping good yarn about the adventures of an English teacher who travels back to 1958 from 2011, and the four years of his life leading up to the Kennedy assassination of 11/22/63, which he intends to stop. The small town of Jodie, Texas, early 60's, is where much of the novel takes place. A love story develops between the English teacher from the future and that town of the past. I found myself hoping the teacher never has to leave Jodie, because I liked it there. Of course, with élan, and at just the right time, King brings the crazy Lee Harvey Oswald to life in vivid colour. Kennedy's fate then looms largely. Although a book of fiction, King's portrayal of Oswald is based on fact, so it was interesting historically. Those parts of the book dedicated to Oswald and his associates were sometimes a bit bland, but, I promise you, the pace picks up. The last hundred pages or so are quite a ride. Apparently King tried writing this tome in 1972. I'm glad he waited until now. Personally, I needed the 50 years distance.
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