Short Story to Short Film

How we turned a short story into a short film, without leaving our office.

A few months ago, Michael and I found ourselves with some rare free time. A few projects had been delayed, and another had been cancelled, so we decided to make something for ourselves.

At first, we sat down with a couple of microphones and filmed a conversation. As usual, we ended up talking about making things. And yes, technically, in that moment we were creating something—but it didn’t feel the same as making something that required real craft. So the next day, in the same room, we challenged ourselves to make a short film.

The idea came from a short story I’d written a few weeks earlier called Handwritten Letters. I wrote it on a flight to Ontario after spotting an online competition asking for a 500-word story about a handwritten letter. I had a very personal story about a certain letter I’d written years ago, so I used that as my inspiration.

I lost the competition, but the story stuck with me. I went back, polished it, and for the first time, recorded myself reading it aloud. I wanted to hear what my writing sounded like outside my head—and luckily, it didn’t sound too bad. Especially after I added a little music underneath to fill in the emotion my voice couldn’t quite carry on its own.

I sent it to Mike. It made him laugh, and we decided to experiment by adding a visual layer to the audio. Nothing elaborate—I wasn’t trying to win Sundance, and I didn’t want to spend any money. I just wanted to keep experimenting. So Mike brought our gear over, I dug up a few old photos, borrowed the over-ear headphones my kid uses (because earbuds hurt his ears), grabbed a few props, and we shot the whole thing on the couch in my office.

A few years ago, Mike and I shot recreations for several documentary TV series. One thing we’ve learned from doing those is that limitations force you to be economical storytellers. When you can’t show the audience everything, you have to get creative and find one detail that suggests the rest of the world just outside the frame. You start to see how a small thing can carry a lot of meaning—an open atlas gets you across the Atlantic, and an iPad and a glass of apple juice put you on the plane that got you there.

Above - BTS from some of our documentary recreation shoots.
Below - BTS from the Handwritten Letters shoot (left - our fake airplane. Right - Using some sheets to bounce the sunlight through the window)

In the end, the experiment worked. We walked away with a few new ways to tell a story and a reminder that the story itself is still what makes a great film. It also reinforced something I keep relearning: keep things simple, especially in short films. So often I’ve tried to add one more twist or be too witty and clever, and I end up cramming so much in that the audience never gets a chance to sit with the character. This time, I literally sat the character on the couch and let the story be what it was—small and honest. And it turned out to be exactly what it needed to be.

Next time, maybe I’ll try to win Sundance. But sometimes, it’s nice to set the goalposts close enough to get a win.

By Eric Pauls