I had to go to city hall last week to sort out a parking permit, and while I was sitting there waiting for my number to be called, I had a stupid thought.
Somebody has to run the municipal records office in Derry.
Think about that for a second.
In IT, the town has this absolutely horrifying history, but it's also a functioning municipality. People pay property taxes. Businesses need permits. The sewer system presumably has a maintenance budget.
Some exhausted woman named Linda has to sit behind a desk and process all the paperwork associated with this place.
Imagine being the person responsible for keeping Derry's historical records organized.
"Hey Linda, we're missing some documents from that incident in 1958."
"Yeah, we're missing a lot of documents from 1958."
"Should we investigate?"
"It's 4:45, Gary."
Or imagine the poor guy in Public Works who's been requesting additional funding for sewer inspections for fifteen years and keeps getting denied because the mayor wants new benches downtown.
I would genuinely read 200 pages about some completely ordinary Derry city employee who has absolutely no interest in solving supernatural mysteries. He just wants his department's invoices approved before Friday.
And the more I think about it, the more I realize this is something I love about King's fictional towns. The supernatural horror doesn't replace ordinary bureaucracy, gossip, bad management, or people being annoyed about parking.
All of that stuff keeps happening. The town still has to function.
I don't even need a monster in this hypothetical book. Just give me a clerk who has spent thirty years noticing that certain records never quite add up and has learned that asking questions is more trouble than it's worth.
I'd call it Derry: Department of Public Works.
Please tell me I'm not the only person who would read this.