One of my only DNF books ever, 80% of the way in.

I wish I'd stopped when I realized that the first hundred pages could have been edited out entirely without any change to the story. The whole book could have been a decent 100 page thriller, still a rip of earlier books, but most of the filler was just repetitious repetition. Every character was sad, whiny, and pussified, even Kurtz somehow. The slo-mo high speed chase just broke the camel's back. The alien plots just get wilder and wilder, and yet somehow all they want to do is drive him crazy instead of just taking over the world.

When I later found out about Stephen King's accident, I was so pissed that I could have punched a wall. King sold us all a pity party because he couldn't cope with one event in real life. He didn't need to write a shitty book with a shitty self-insert Marty Stu saving the world by going insane and his editor certainly didn't need to buy it. At least Kingdom Hospital was watchable.

The one and only redeeming point came 600 pages in, when the Glock-phone rang and Henry mused about how of course it made sense that he'd get a call on the Glock. I busted a gut on that paragraph, driven as mad by the book as Jonesy, and promptly quit.