During Covid, I gave myself the Story-a-Month Challenge. I started a story on the first day of each month and stopped on the last day. A subconscious theme emerged: the struggles of grown people and their parents, done fantastically. By year’s end, I had twelve stories, placed in magazines somewhere. I collected them, adding earlier stories, longer and with younger protagonists, but with the same theme of arrested development. I called the book “Adult Children,” a wry reference to offspring of alcoholics (I am one). Also subconscious: my inspiration from other authors of fantastical collections, some of whom I’ve included here.
Award-winning writer Laurence Klavan’s newest collection of stories features twenty darkly comic and largely speculative tales. People deal with aging…
Despite some people’s fears, watching a lot of TV as a kid was a gateway to reading for me, not a deterrent. Seeing reruns of old horror anthology series and TV movies made me curious about who had written the stories on which the shows were based.
I discovered Richard Matheson, whose works were among the most adapted by The Twilight Zone and others. This collection features some of his classic imaginative tales that also became classic TV, including “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet” (pre-Star Trek William Shatner saw a demon on an airplane wing on The Twilight Zone), “Duel” (Dennis Weaver was menaced by a killer truck in Steven Spielberg’s famous 1976 TV movie) and “Prey” (Karen Black fought a demon doll in one of the Trilogy of Terror).
Personally selected by Richard Matheson, the bestselling author of I Am Legend and What Dreams May Come, the stories in Nightmare at 20,000 feet more than demonstrate why Matheson's regarded as one of our most influential horror writers.
Featuring the story "Duel," a nail-biting tale of man versus machines that inspired Steven Spielberg's first film.
Remember that monster on the wing of the airplane? William Shatner saw it on The Twilight Zone, John Lithgow saw it in the movie-even Bart Simpson saw it. "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet" is just one of many classic horror stories by Richard Matheson that have…
Unlike those of Richard Matheson, the stories of Italo Calvino are rarely adapted for stage or screen, his estate holding a heavy hand on the rights (I know—I’ve tried).
One of my favorite writers, Calvino specializes in eccentric, surreal stories as funny as they are moving.
Cosmicomics is a linked collection, each tale an imaginative fiction about the origins of a scientific idea, from the Big Bang (the narrator lives in a crazily cramped space with his family during the explosion) to evolution (his embarrassing old uncle still lives in the sea and refuses to make the trip to land). These stories combine whimsicality and gravity as few others do.
Introducing Little Clothbound Classics: irresistible, mini editions of short stories, novellas and essays from the world's greatest writers, designed by the award-winning Coralie Bickford-Smith.
Celebrating the range and diversity of Penguin Classics, they take us from snowy Japan to springtime Vienna, from haunted New England to a sun-drenched Mediterranean island, and from a game of chess on the ocean to a love story on the moon. Beautifully designed and printed, these collectible editions are bound in colourful, tactile cloth and stamped with foil.
Twelve enchanting and fantastical stories about the evolution of the universe from the giant of Italian literature,…
"Is this supposed to help? Christ, you've heard it a hundred times. You know the story as well as I do, and it's my story!" "Yeah, but right now it only has a middle. You can't remember how it begins, and no-one knows how it ends."
Speaking of movies, as I’m afraid I often am, it’s not just the novels of Daphne du Maurier (like Rebecca) that have made great films; her short stories have inspired them, too. And they’re weirder and darker than her full-length works.
Don’t Look Now and Other Stories is a recent collection curated by Patrick McGrath, another excellent horror-adjacent author. It features the title story, source of Nicolas Roeg’s famously frightening 1973 film, and “The Birds,” on which Hitchcock based his notoriously gory (for 1963) film.
While the movies are swell, these brief, insidious, and ambiguous tales can make them seem a little lumbering and obvious by comparison.
John and Laura have come to Venice to try and escape the pain of their young daughter's death. But when they encounter two old women who claim to have second sight, they find that instead of laying their ghosts to rest they become caught up in a train of increasingly strange and violent events. The four other haunting, evocative stories in this volume also explore deep fears and longings, secrets and desires: a lonely teacher who investigates a mysterious American couple, a young woman confronting her father's past, a party of pilgrims who meet disaster in Jerusalem and a scientist…
These days, “folk horror” is a popular term for movies like Midsommer and The Witch.
In the early twentieth century, M. R. James is said to have invented this genre and revitalized the ghost story as a form. His memorably unsettling work often involves academics, scholars, and researchers confronting an uncanny, bucolic world.
The most renowned stories in this collection include “Casting the Runes” (a reviewer of an occult book learns an earlier critic died mysteriously), “The Mezzotint” (an upsetting engraving changes each time a curator looks at it), and “Oh Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad” (a professor dubious of the existence of ghosts fatefully finds an ancient whistle on vacation).
When we think of ghost stories, we tend to think of cub scouts cringing by a fire, s'mores at the ready, as some aging camp counselor tries to scare them witless with yet another tale from the crypt. But as Michael Chabon's marvelous introduction reminds us, the ghost story was once integral to the genre of the short story. Indeed, as he points out, it can be argued that the ghost story was the genre. Dickens's "A Christmas Carol," Henry James's "The Turn of the Screw"-most of the early short story writers wrote ghost stories as a matter of course.…
"Is this supposed to help? Christ, you've heard it a hundred times. You know the story as well as I do, and it's my story!" "Yeah, but right now it only has a middle. You can't remember how it begins, and no-one knows how it ends."
A French import published in the US in 2024, Plasmas is an intriguingly spare, linked collection of short futuristic scenes.
Acrobats whose routines are programmed by biotechnology…tomorrow’s La Brea Tar Pits, where artifacts of both the distant past—and future—are unearthed…a female scientist bonds idealistically and tragically with great apes…these compelling stories revolve around a post-human world, written in an icy style that often feels post-human, as well.
Prodigiously translated by Annabel Kim, it’s a subdued, sort-of successor to Cosmicomics and won the French Prix de L’imaginaire, that country’s top prize for speculative fiction.
A speculative masterpiece of technology and mythmaking that contemplates humanity.
The stories in Plasmas dive into a post-human, more-than-human world where life as we know it has been replaced by life as it goes on. Acrobats glide through the air attached to biotech devices, an archivist presents scenes from Earth after interstellar colonization to her students, and scientists in Siberia play god with a manmade beast.
Written as a series of vignettes into futures near and far, Plasmas dives into questions of legacy, memory, the body, and technology through striking prose from one of France's leading sci-fi writers. Equally comfortable…
Award-winning writer Laurence Klavan’s newest collection of stories features twenty darkly comic and largely speculative tales. People deal with aging parents, a world out of kilter, and their own arrested development today and in the near future, as Klavan weaves together threads of humanity and strangeness to dizzying and heartfelt effects.
Adult Children is a fascinating glimpse into the uneasiness of today and the possibility of tomorrow.
