Who Wrote Short Cuts: The Screenplay?

Keeping a short kids mullet fade sharp takes a little routine but nothing too fancy. I start by trimming the sides every 2–3 weeks with clippers so the fade stays tight; I use guard 1 or 2 at the temples and then blend up with a 3 or 4 as I approach the top. When I do it at home I follow a slow, steady rhythm: clip the sides, switch guards to blend, then go back with the clipper-over-comb to soften any harsh lines. For the back length that gives the mullet vibe, I leave about 1.5 to 2 inches and snip split ends with scissors so it stays neat without losing the shape. Washing and styling are half the battle. I shampoo and condition twice a week and use a light leave-in or texturizing spray on damp hair; a small amount of matte paste helps shape the front without making it greasy. I also tidy the neckline and around the ears with a trimmer between full trims, and I show my kid how to tilt their head so we get even edges. When I notice cowlicks or odd growth patterns, I tweak the blend with the clippers on a low guard. Barber visits every 6–8 weeks keep things sharp if you prefer hands-off maintenance, but for my household the at-home routine and a good set of guards keep the mullet looking cool and manageable. I enjoy the little ritual of it, and it's fun seeing them grin when the haircut really pops.

Totally loved digging into this one — short version: 'Hotel Queens' is an original screenplay written directly for the screen, not a straight adaptation of a published novel. I got into the credits, interviews, and production notes and everything points to the writers crafting the story specifically as a show/film concept. That doesn't mean it sprang from a vacuum: the creators mentioned drawing inspiration from classic hotel-set dramas, workplace comedies, and some serialized internet short stories, but they never credited a single-author novel as the source. On-screen credits and press materials list the scriptwriters and showrunner rather than an author of a book, which is the clearest sign it's an original piece. From a fan perspective, I like how original scripts often let writers design pacing and character arcs that fit screen storytelling better than a novel-to-screen adaptation would. 'Hotel Queens' benefits from that: scenes feel tailored to visual beats, and there are set-piece moments that read like they were written with camera moves in mind. If you enjoy behind-the-scenes stuff, look for writer roundtables or DVD extras — they often reveal what parts were purely invented for the screen and which bits were homages to other works. I walked away appreciating the craft; it feels fresh and written to sparkle on camera.

That question nudged something in my book-loving brain — the story you’re thinking of is most likely 'A Small, Good Thing' by Raymond Carver. I used to mix the title up too, since people sometimes shorten it in conversation to things like 'One Good Thing', but the canonical title is 'A Small, Good Thing'. I’ve read both versions of the tale in different collections and what always gets me is how spare and human Carver’s prose is. The plot centers on parents dealing with a terrifying accident involving their child and the strange, escalating intrusion of a baker’s telephone calls about a cake order. The crescendo isn’t melodramatic — it’s quiet, devastating, and then oddly consoling. It’s about grief, miscommunication, and how ordinary gestures (food, presence) can become unexpectedly meaningful. If you’re chasing the specific piece, look in Carver’s post-Lish editorial era collections where the fuller, more generous version appears under the familiar title. For anyone who enjoys short fiction that lands like a gut-punch and then leaves behind a small warmth, this is one I keep revisiting. It still makes me think about how small acts matter when words fail, and every reread uncovers a new little ache. I find that comforting in a strangely stubborn way.

Titles like 'Burning Ember' pop up in the indie world more than you'd think, and that makes tracking a single definitive author tricky — I've bumped into that exact phrase attached to short fiction and self-published novellas across different storefronts. From my digging, there isn't one overwhelmingly famous novel or classic short story universally recognized under that precise title; instead, you get several small-press or self-published pieces, a few anthology entries that use the phrase in a story title, and occasional fan pieces. That explains why searches turn up mixed results depending on which site you use. If you want to pin a specific creator down, the fastest trick I've learned is to grab any extra metadata you have — the platform you saw it on, a publication year, cover art, or a character name — and run an exact-phrase search in quotes on book marketplaces and library catalogs. WorldCat and ISBN searches are golden if the work was formally published; for short stories, check anthology TOCs and magazine archives. I also scan Goodreads or Kindle listings because indie authors often upload there and readers leave clues in reviews. Personally, when I finally tracked down a similarly obscure title, it was the ISBN on the ebook file that sealed the deal. All that said, if you saw 'Burning Ember' on a forum or as a file shared among friends, there’s a real chance it’s fanfiction or a zine piece, which means the author might be an online alias rather than a mainstream byline. I always get a kick out of these treasure hunts — half the fun is finding the person behind the words and seeing how many different takes a single title can inspire.

Short lines hit faster than long ones, and that speed is everything to me when I'm scrolling through a feed full of noise. I love dissecting why a tiny quip can land harder than a paragraph-long joke. For one, our brains love low friction: a short setup lets you form an expectation in a flash, and the punchline overturns it just as quickly. That sudden mismatch triggers a tiny dopamine burst and a laugh before attention wanders. On top of that, social platforms reward brevity—a one-liner fits inside a tweet, a caption, or a meme image without editing, so it's far more likely to be shared and remixed. Memorability plays a role too: shorter sequences are easier to repeat or quote, which is why lines from 'The Simpsons' or a snappy one-liner from a stand-up clip spread like wildfire. I also think timing and rhythm matter. A long joke needs patience and a good voice to sell it; a short joke is more forgiving because its rhythm is compact. People love to be in on the joke instantly—it's gratifying. When I try to write jokes, I trim relentlessly until only the essential surprise remains. Even if I throw in a reference to 'Seinfeld' or a modern meme, I keep the line tight so it pops. In short, speed, shareability, and cognitive payoff make short funny quotes outperform longer bits, and I still get a kick out of a perfectly economical zinger.

I get this little thrill whenever I line up Hemingway stories and their silver-screen cousins, so here’s a tidy roundup that I’ve dug through over time. A few of his short pieces made the jump to feature films that actually reached wide audiences. Most famously, 'The Killers' became a hard-boiled noir in 1946 directed by Robert Siodmak — that version expanded the spare original into a full crime melodrama and it’s the adaptation people usually point to. 'The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber' was turned into the 1947 film 'The Macomber Affair', which keeps the tense marital triangle at the center. 'The Snows of Kilimanjaro' was adapted into a 1952 Hollywood picture starring big names of the era; it takes the story’s fatal reflections and dresses them in studio gloss. Beyond those, Hemingway’s shorter work has shown up in television, radio plays, and indie shorts over the decades — often heavily reworked to fit a runtime or modern sensibilities. I also keep in mind that some of his longer pieces, like 'The Old Man and the Sea', are novellas that were filmed (the Spencer Tracy version comes to mind), and people sometimes lump those adaptations in when they’re just asking about Hemingway on film. I love tracing how a spare story line gets inflated or distilled on camera — the choices filmmakers make are endlessly revealing.

If you're talking about the 2016 Irish coming-of-age film 'Handsome Devil', the screenplay was written by John Butler. He also directed the film and is credited with the original script — it isn't adapted from a previously published novel. The movie, which centers on friendship, identity, and the insular pressures of boarding school life, has that warm but sharp tone that makes people sometimes assume there's a book behind it, but this one began on the page as a screenplay by Butler. I love how original screenplays like this let the writer shape dialogue and pacing specifically for the camera. In the case of 'Handsome Devil', the writing leans into quiet character beats and witty exchanges, and you can feel Butler's fingerprints in both the structure and the emotional rhythms. If you enjoyed the film, tracking down interviews with Butler is a neat way to see how the script evolved during casting and rehearsal — it gives a sense of how screenwriting and directing married together to form the final piece. Personally, I appreciate original scripts that don't rely on source material; there's a freshness to them. 'Handsome Devil' reads and plays like something born for film, and John Butler did a lovely job translating those subtle, human moments to the screen.

I tracked down 'Apology' not too long ago and ended up watching it on the filmmaker's official Vimeo page — they uploaded a high-quality file with subtitles and a short director's note. Vimeo tends to be the go-to for short films that want clean playback and extra context, and this one had both. I also noticed an official upload on YouTube from the production company; it was slightly lower bitrate but more accessible for friends who just wanted to hit play without signing in. If you prefer curated platforms, 'Apology' popped up on 'Short of the Week' during its festival run and was available on Festival Scope for a limited time. For anyone teaching or doing a screening, I've seen the film appear on Kanopy via a university library license. I ended up buying the filmmaker's digital bundle (they offered it through their site and a link to a Bandcamp-style pay-what-you-want download), which included behind-the-scenes footage and the script — totally worth supporting indie shorts. It landed exactly where I love shorts to be: easy to find, respectful of the artist, and shareable with friends; it stayed with me long after the credits rolled.