I have a thing for Modernists like William Faulkner. They experimented, making crazy use of spaces and fragmented morsels of goodness. By breaking the black and white boundaries and turgid structure, a whole world of grey appeared. When I read As I Lay Dying, I was blown away that someone could write about something that sounded so boring, and make it so damned interesting.
For a while, the most we could hope for was a Faulkner adaptation here or there, or the re-make of one of the films he wrote during his stint in
But forget the adaptations. They can so easily be as terrible as they could be great -- it's a crapshoot. But the screenplay, oh delicious literature! Within the demands of contract screenwriting, Faulkner found time to create a vampire film set in