I didn't say perfect--I have never written anything that was perfect, nor has anyone else save Shakespeare, Mark Twain and Truman Capote--I said publishable. Which is to say, arranged (stacked) properly with no factual errors. Think double ax murder or earthquake or anti-war protests on eve of Desert Storm at deadline--it ain't gonna sing, but it will tell you what you need to know. As for King, he's prolific and spins a great yarn. As a writer, and not to sound jealous, meh. When he's at Point A, he knows where Point B is and how to get there and, most importantly for his genre, whether he can get there on the express lane or whether he needs to take his time and really write. And when he needs to write, lordy, he really can do it. It's been awhile since I read his stuff, but I recall it being like hopscotch, jumping from one great vignette to another with a bunch of scribbling in between. Capote, on the other hand, is, was, a craftsman through and through. You read In Cold Blood and every freaking word is perfect. I was late to David Foster Wallace and have read only part of his last, unfinished, novel, The Pale King, but that's also great writing. Plot wise, it drags, but you don't mind because the writing is just so jaw-droppingly good. That guy could write about drying paint and keep you mesmerized.
Huge DFW fan. What a pity. I've read most everything he's written. You really must read infinite jest.