10 Films Based On Short Stories

Are all movies produced from screenplays only?

Nope.

Many have been inspired by novels. Think Harry Potter and Twilight. But, did you know that there are a large number inspired by short stories?

Here are a few just to give you an idea:

Sleepy Hollow – based on Washington Irving’s The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

The Birds – based on Daphne du Maurier’s story with the same name

Minority Report – based on Philip K. Dick’s story with the same name

I, Robot – inspired by a collection of short stories by Issac Asimov of the same name

Candyman – based on Clive Barker’s collection of stories in the Books of Blood

They Live – based on Ray Nelson’s Eight O’Clock In the Morning

Dark Water – based on Koji Suzuki’s Floating Water

Screamers – based on Philip K. Dick’s Second Variety

The Thing – based on John W. Campbell Jr.’s Who Goes There?

In my next post, how does a short story get selected to be a film?

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Dance (A Cento Poem)

by gillesgrimoin on DevianArt

 

 

Is that dance slowing in the mind of man

The head of a sleeping man

My mind was going numb –

I need a place to sing, and dancing-room,

Wrecked, solitary, here –

All night I have dreamed of destruction, annihilations —-

With blood

And then I heard them lift a Box

The deathly guests had not been satisfied

 

 

*Taken from the following poems:

Waking In Winter by Sylvia Plath

God Lay Dead In Heaven by Stephen Crane

I Felt A Funeral In My Brain by Emily Dickinson

The Dance by Theodore Roethke

 

Saturday Story: Suppose

 

*Note: Am participating in the #Write28Days (February) hosted by Anita Ojeda. Click here if you would like tp participate. 

 

Suppose

 

Scared witless, he slammed the company’s truck to a full stop and watched as the radioactive sludge engulfed the town. Strangely, the first thought to come to mind was- “Dang, I suppose I should have lowered those control rods.”

The Birth Of a Writer: My Origin Story

 

*If you’re interested in joining the DIY MFA Book Club to take part in the weekly writing prompts, click here

 

My journey to becoming a writer began when I was about eleven years old. I was a girl, a loner, struggling with being an outsider due to my hearing disability and difficulties with  communication (I spoke funny and didn’t always hear what people said even though I wore hearing aids).  As a result, I spent a lot of time in imaginary worlds and with my imaginary friends. At times, however, this proved dangerous.

An example: A year or so earlier, I was in my basement where I had set up a line of chairs. I was pretending to be Wonder Woman, and wanted to see how far I could jump (or how many chairs I could clear). My imaginary friends kept edging me on, “More! More! Make it longer!” Of course, I didn’t want to look like a poor sport, I added a kiddie rocking chair at the end, and proceeded to jump.

Well, I didn’t make it. In fact, that rocking chair was my undoing as I landed on top of it, straddling it.

I think you get the idea.

I ended up in the ER that evening, and for the next two or three weeks, using the bathroom and stairs were challenging (not to mention, painful!) at best.

Let’s move forward to when I was about eleven years old. My best friend, Melanie (a feisty red-head who didn’t mind my weird lisp and pronunciations) challenged me and a few other classmates to see who could write the “scariest” story. So, I sat down and wrote about a girl who accepted a dare to enter a haunted house where she’d discovered a decapitated head in the fridge. I no longer remember if that girl managed to get out of the house so I’ll just leave it to my imagination. Anyway, what I can clearly remember was how they all reacted when they read my story.  One was totally grossed out by the details, others either squealed or shuttered. I’d loved every reaction.

I then realized that with writing, I could “act” out my imagination without harming myself (or anyone else!). But most of all, after writing that story I felt like I had found something I could be good at. Writing was something I could excel in and not be looked down on as “odd” or as the girl “who spoke funny.”

Writing also gave me that guilty pleasure of making people squirm.

 

#NaNoWriMo: Midpoint

 

 

November is already half over–can you believe it?

And what’s even crazier is that one week from today is Thanksgiving!

Heck, I haven’t gotten a turkey yet much less planned a menu for it.  I’ll work on it over the coming weekend…maybe.

I’ve been writing away on a story for NaNoWriMo currently sitting at about 7,200 words for the month. Yeah, the word count is quite low provided that I didn’t start until the 5th day. I’ve set up a goal tracker for this novel that by February 1st 2019 to have written a total of 75,000 words. This will be more realistic, but that won’t stop me from trying to get as many words done for November as I can. At that point (after November 30th), I plan to go back to writing my other projects.

So, what is this story I’m currently writing?

Click on image to read

 

Brief synopsis:

Nyssa Mann found herself in a zombie apocalypse that claimed everyone she cared for.  In search for a safe haven, she met a stranger who promised just that only to be tricked into a fantastical world where she will face a new kind of terror.

There are currently eight chapters up on Wattpad if you’d like to follow along Nyssa’s adventures. I’ve been trying to write about one new chapter per day. At the moment, a total of 30 chapters are slated for the completion of this book (possibly there will be additional chapters).  This may also be Book One in a series or saga for the overall story but for now I’m taking this one day at a time.

What about you? Are you participating in NaNoWriMo? If not, are you currently working on a writing project? I’d like to hear about it!  🙂

 

#HappyHalloween Fun Tidbits

 

Here are some fun tidbits you may not have known about Halloween:

 

  1. Did you know that the first Jack O’ Lanterns were actually made from turnips?
  2. If you completely freak out whenever someone mention the word “Halloween” then you might have Samhainophobia.
  3. If you see a spider on Halloween, it means that a deceased loved one is watching you (which sounds a little creepy).
  4. But, if you hear an owl’s call on Halloween it means someone is going to die.  Yikes!
  5. Masks can deter evil spirits!  Of course back in the day, pagans wore animal skins and heads, aren’t you glad that still isn’t the case today?

 

Happy Halloween!

#Halloween #Story The House

 

*Author’s Note: I’m re-posting a story from one year ago.  This one was based on the very first short story I wrote as an eleven-year-old and of all genres I naturally wrote a horror story.  🙂

 

 

Penny, the new kid on the block, stood in front of an old, rickety house along with two new-found friends.

She swallowed hard as she stepped up to the front door.

“Don’t be a scaredy cat and go in!” Darla called out.

Inside the dank-smelling entryway, cobwebs littered every nook and cranny. Dark and not a living soul present as the young girl walked down a hallway.

A movement on her right caused Penny to pause.

On the long, narrow table sat a huge glass platter with a steel cover. The cover rattled ever so slightly.

She slowly reached for the metallic lid and lifted it.

The first thing she saw was the wrinkled balding head, and in a great start, she released her grasp on the heavy top which landed on the hard floor with a thunderous clang that echoed throughout the building.

Her brown eyes widened as she stared at what sat on the glass dish.

A head of an elderly man who appeared to be asleep. His skin pallor and sunken except for one eye where folds of flesh drooped.The sight had her rooted to the spot as she held her breath fearing that any noise would awaken him.

Suddenly, his eyes sprung open. Black as coals they completely mesmerized Penny…

Until the mouth opened and an evil cackle bellowed from it.

She turned and ran screaming out of the house, and didn’t stop screaming until she reached her friends down on the curbs.

What dismayed her further was that they were laughing.

At her.

“It’s not funny!” She said.

Darla, the brunette, giggled through her hands but it was the blondie who spoke.

“If only you could have seen your face!” Roxie said as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Penny glared at them. “You knew about this?”

“Oh yeah.” Darla finally replied. “Old man Marco’s been doing this every year for years.”

The red-head folded her arms at her two so-called friends. “And where does he usually pull this prank?”

“In the kitchen. On the table with the red cloth.” Roxie answered.

“Well, his head was on a platter in the hallway between the kitchen and living room,” Penny stated. “And it did NOT have ANY tablecloth.”

Roxie and Darla looked at her.

“Go on.” Penny pointed to the house. “Go check on the old man!”

Clasping each other’s hand, the two girls walked across the front yard, and through the doorway disappearing into the murkiness.

Penny continued to stand with her arms folded and waited.

Moments passed before screeching screams sounded through the house, and the pale-faced girls galloped outside, nearly colliding with Penny.

Unmoved, Penny asked, “Well?”

“Th-that wasn’t Marco!” Darla said. “And-and there was no body under the table!”

“But the head was real, right?” Penny asked.

Both girls nodded in earnest.

All pairs of eyes turned to the house just as the front door creaked shut.