by Elodia Strain
I cried while watching The Devil Wears Prada. And Must Love Dogs. And In Her Shoes. And P.S. I Love You.
For me, the girl who cries when cute little kids jump off the diving board at the public pool, this is nothing all that unusual.
But what is unusual is that I didn’t cry during the actual movies—well, except for P.S. I Love You. I bawled through that entire thing. I swear, the people at Kleenex must have worked out some deal with the screenwriter—I cried during the opening credits.
That’s right, the opening credits. When that little line showed up, “Based on the novel by:” I got all goosebumpy and felt myself welling up.
There was just something about knowing someone’s book, someone’s baby, had taken one more beautiful step toward reality. Real live people were about to act out the story someone had created. In real live places. Wearing real live clothes.
It really is crazy, how many books are being adapted for the screen these days. I recently Netflixed a made-for-TV movie called See Jane Date, based on the novel by Melissa Senate. I’m eagerly awaiting February ’09—the release date of the Shopaholic movie. And while in the theater waiting to watch the new Indiana Jones flick, I saw the preview for the much anticipated Twilight. I gripped my husband’s arm tight with excitement, not so much because I can’t wait to see the movie, but simply because there is a movie.
And, I’ll admit it, because it’s kind of fun to dream about what it would be like. To see, “based on the novel by: Elodia Strain” on the screen. Maybe someday I will. Even if it’s just on a three-minute, 1D animation I pay my little brother to make and post on You Tube.
For me, the girl who cries when cute little kids jump off the diving board at the public pool, this is nothing all that unusual.
But what is unusual is that I didn’t cry during the actual movies—well, except for P.S. I Love You. I bawled through that entire thing. I swear, the people at Kleenex must have worked out some deal with the screenwriter—I cried during the opening credits.
That’s right, the opening credits. When that little line showed up, “Based on the novel by:” I got all goosebumpy and felt myself welling up.
There was just something about knowing someone’s book, someone’s baby, had taken one more beautiful step toward reality. Real live people were about to act out the story someone had created. In real live places. Wearing real live clothes.
It really is crazy, how many books are being adapted for the screen these days. I recently Netflixed a made-for-TV movie called See Jane Date, based on the novel by Melissa Senate. I’m eagerly awaiting February ’09—the release date of the Shopaholic movie. And while in the theater waiting to watch the new Indiana Jones flick, I saw the preview for the much anticipated Twilight. I gripped my husband’s arm tight with excitement, not so much because I can’t wait to see the movie, but simply because there is a movie.
And, I’ll admit it, because it’s kind of fun to dream about what it would be like. To see, “based on the novel by: Elodia Strain” on the screen. Maybe someday I will. Even if it’s just on a three-minute, 1D animation I pay my little brother to make and post on You Tube.
1 comment:
I am SO with you on this! Wouldn't it just be the COOLEST to see your words acted out on the big screen--as long as the director didn't take liberties that totally messed things up.
The other day my son and I were walking and talking about the manuscripts we're working on. I made a Fruedian slip and said, "In my movie..." and Preston caught it. I didn't even realize I'd said it. To be honest, when I write, the story plays out in my head like a movie.
The thing is...anything's possible! We gotta dream...
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