What can I say that is positive about this book? The only thing that comes to mind is, Thank goodness it was not another page longer. I was committed to finishing this book as writing a review for it would require I push onward to the end. Now here is the deal, I haven't read a King book since I was in middle school, and I can tell you also I was simultaneously reading a Robert McCammon book at the same time. This made my experience with Cell more profound. Here I am reading, The Queen of Bedlam, by McCammon an author who seems to paint his books verbally with skillful brush strokes and then I'm reading a book that seems to have been written by a child and never edited. Cell, was not polished and from the acclaim that King was given early on in his career as an author this book just piggy backed on their shoulders and King was able to reap thousands. Most likely laughing all the way to the bank!! The pages of this book are best used as toilet paper, and the script and story line are best never to be heard by human ears again. 
 In this book, Cell phones emit a pulse and those using them become zombies. Fair enough. But oh no, King wasn't done there! That wasn't enough. He had to make the zombies turn all X-men like. Now they don't just chomp brains, they can levitate, yes that wasn't a spelling error. These zombies can make like superman and fly. Uber gay. Then, they have telepathy! WTF! Seriously, King seemed to be grasping at straws for new ideas here! I was waiting for zombies to start shooting laser beams from their eyes and pop out with adamantium claws any second. Telepathic powers wasn't where it ended. These zombies can get into your mind and make you kill yourself. Ummmmm okay?? If there is a book out there that makes you want to kill yourself, Cell is the one! I felt like bashing my own head in at the absurdity of this novel, if novel is really even the right word to describe this book. If I could turn back time I would read, "One fish, two fish, red fish blue fish" by Dr. Seuss a thousand times before reading this crappy tome. 
 I guess from now on I'll just stick to reading books from King's drug days, since apparently that's where all of his creative genius came from in the past.