I like rewrites of the old fairytales. My favourite is "Beauty and the Beast". There are a few versions of it, some kind of watered down from the original. Have you ever read the original? I think I did, long, long ago.

Anyway, my idea for a project, is to rewrite the old fairytales myself as short stories. But, combine them with various tropes (stereotypical parts of fiction genres). Like choosing a story and then spinning a wheel to see what goes into it - then writing it. Surely I can do that.

Too many of my stories start from feeling angry and they go too far into that. Nothing anyone would really want to read and not really something I want to publish either. So, why not give writing a spin, a fresh spin, with different inspiration.

I'm going to need to create a list of tropes. Likely by genre, mainly science fiction and horror for me I think. But, anything could really wander in from other genres. Why not, who will ever read any of it but me. (Hello me)!

Some times I get creepy ideas that would make a good story but I only have the idea and not enough to tell the story. I could build the story around the idea but its so creepy... I can't think of a starting point for it.

This morning I thought about a man who goes in to identify Jane Doe women. He comes in often enough the police know him. There is, supposedly, a woman he is searching for, a woman who has gone missing. He gives a name at least and it is a missing woman.

At first I was thinking about how hard it would be to see dead women and try to look for evidence, distinguishing marks, to be sure she is (or is not) the woman he knew. Then I thought... what if he likes it? Feeling their skin, touching the little curl in the middle of her bottom lip... and so on. Even if the body is in bad condition, has been decaying, burnt in a fire, mangled by animals (or humans), or just cold and dead. At some point police might begin to think he is showing up too often and taking too much time over the bodies. But, what can they really do, as long as he claims he is looking to identify a real missing woman.

So there is the idea. Creepy. Is there even a real missing woman he is looking for? He could just have picked out the name of a woman who went missing. Or, worse, he could be the one who murdered her and has hidden the body, very sure it will never be found. Is it a good thing that he only killed that one woman and instead goes to fondle others already dead? Not good, but better than being a serial killer?

How does it all start, if you were to write it?

There is a world of difference between having such an idea and writing it, putting your name on it and sending it out to the public, having your family, friends, co-workers, everyone you know or don't know yet, reading it. Horror writers are at least a little brave to put their name on their creations. Maybe not the standard horror stories, typical stories, used over and over in media. But, an unusual idea, had to come from somewhere, some part of the writer's brain. What kind of brain do you have with something like this floating around in it.

Who would want their head in a box?

It started out as applying to write a column for one of the big, well known Internet networks. It was a column about Canadian history. The office, it was an in person interview, was on a high floor of a tall glass building. The office was mostly glass with black trim and a very high ceiling. The man interviewing me was sitting behind a heavy looking dark wood desk in a black leather chair. He wore a nice, light grey, suit with a tie. I was talking to him (the editor and/or owner of the site) and somehow the thing about "Who would want their head in a box" came up.

Next thing we are in a dusty rural location, it looked like a dry sunflower field with all the flowers starting to finish up, looking dry and droopy. Dust was gently blowing around and I could see trees far in the background, no signs of other people. There was a pick up truck, I was the driver. The editor was in the back, in a wooden box, like a crate. But, his head was outside the box (still attached to his body) and he was complaining. I don't know what he was saying, I could see his mouth moving and hear the tone of his voice.

As I drove around with him in the back, in the air exposed to all the dust and pebbles stirred up in the field, he complained louder.

Somehow later I was gone. He was found by other staff, or his friends, just people he seemed to know somehow. I had left him buried in the field - standing upright with his head above the dry dirt. It was loose dirt, dry and not packed. He was already mostly free of the dirt when help arrived to bring him back to the city, or where ever the office was for the Internet network.

He called me next day and agreed that he would rather have his head in a box (than outside of it) as an option. I assume I got the writing job. But, I woke up about there and was trying to remember the details of my dream so I could write it here before I forget it all.

What would you need if you planned to live in a cave for a year? Think about things like a lack of sunlight, heat and the dampness. Also, basic essentials like clean water, sustainable food, something to sleep on, something to wear, and something to do day to day to keep busy. Forget your phone or laptop, the cave doesn’t get Internet for more than an hour a day when the signal hits it just right.