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Night Shift  
First edition cover
Author Stephen King
Country USA
Language English
Genre(s) Horror
Publisher Doubleday
Publication date February 1978
Media type Print (Hardcover)
Pages 342
ISBN 0385129912
Followed by Different Seasons

Night Shift is the first collection of short stories by Stephen King, first published in 1978. Many of King's most famous short stories were included in this collection.


Stories collected

Title Originally published in
Jerusalem's Lot Previously unpublished
Graveyard Shift October 1970 issue of Cavalier
Night Surf Spring 1969 issue of Ubris
I Am the Doorway March 1971 issue of Cavalier
The Mangler December 1972 issue of Cavalier
The Boogeyman March 1973 issue of Cavalier
Gray Matter October 1973 issue of Cavalier
Battleground September 1972 issue of Cavalier
Trucks June 1973 issue of Cavalier
Sometimes They Come Back March 1974 issue of Cavalier
Strawberry Spring Fall 1968 issue of Ubris
The Ledge July 1976 issue of Penthouse
The Lawnmower Man May 1975 issue of Cavalier
Quitters, Inc. Previously unpublished
I Know What You Need September 1976 issue of Cosmopolitan
Children of the Corn March 1977 issue of Penthouse
The Last Rung on the Ladder Previously unpublished
The Man Who Loved Flowers August 1977 issue of Gallery
One for the Road March/April 1977 issue of Maine
The Woman in the Room Previously unpublished


The book was published on the heels of The Shining (1977 Doubleday) and was King's fifth published book (including Rage, which was published under the pseudonym of Richard Bachman). A vast majority of the stories had appeared in various issues of Cavalier Magazine from 1970-1975; others were originally published in Penthouse, Cosmopolitan, Gallery, Ubris, and Maine Magazine. The stories "Jerusalem's Lot", "Quitters Inc.", "The Last Rung on the Ladder", and "The Woman in the Room" appeared for the first time in this collection.

Foreword and Introduction

Night Shift is the first book for which King wrote a foreword. This foreword, in which the writer humbly introduces himself, sets up his characteristic "fire-side storyteller" tone. He begins the foreword directly addressing the reader; "Let's talk, you and I. Let's talk about fear." This friendly, conversational tone, will become a hallmark of Stephen King's writing style - especially his non-fiction writing. He closes the foreword on a note that would become familiar to his 'Constant Readers' (a term of endearment that King reserves for his fans).

The introduction was written by one of King's favorite authors, John D. MacDonald.

Film, TV or theatrical adaptations

With the publication of Night Shift and the rise in King's popularity as a best-selling author, also with the success of Brian De Palma's motion picture adaptation of Carrie (1976), student film and theatre makers began to submit requests to King to make adaptations of the stories that appeared in the collection. King formed a policy he deemed the Dollar Deal, which allowed the students the permission to make an adaptation for the consideration of just $1.

In the 1980s, entrepreneurial film producer Milton Subotsky purchased the rights to six of the stories in this collection with the intention to produce feature films and a television anthology based on multiple stories. Although Subotsky was involved with several King adaptations (Cat's Eye, Maximum Overdrive, Sometimes They Come Back, The Lawnmower Man) the television series never came to fruition due to problems with the network's Standards and Practices.[1]

The following is a list of film, television or theatre adaptations made from the stories collected in Night Shift:


Feature film adaptations

  • Children of the Corn (1984) Hal Roach Studios, Inc. directed by Fritz Kiersch
  • Cat's Eye (1985) Dino De Laurentiis Productions / MGM/UA directed by Lewis Teague (featured adaptations of "Quitters Inc." and "The Ledge")
  • Maximum Overdrive (based on "Trucks") (1986) De Laurentiis Entertainment Group (DEG) directed by Stephen King
  • Graveyard Shift (1990) Paramount Pictures directed by Ralph S. Singleton
  • The Lawnmower Man (title only) (1992) New Line Cinema directed by Brett Leonard
  • The Mangler (1995) New Line Cinema directed by Tobe Hooper

Television adaptations

  • Sometimes They Come Back (1991) Vidmark Entertainment directed by Tom McLoughlin, originally attempted to be adapted into Cat's Eye.
  • Trucks (1997) USA Pictures directed by Chris Thomson
  • Battleground (2006) Turner Network Television mini-series Nightmares & Dreamscapes

Dollar Baby adaptations (shorts)

  • The Boogyman (1982) directed by Jeff Schiro
  • Disciples of the Crow (based on "Children of the Corn") (1983) directed by John Woodward
  • The Woman in the Room (1983) directed by Frank Darabont
  • The Last Rung on the Ladder (1987) directed by James Cole and Daniel Thron
  • The Lawnmower Man (1987) directed by Jim Gonis
  • Night Surf (2001) directed by Peter Sullivan
  • Strawberry Spring (2001) directed by Doveed Linder
  • I Know What You Need (2004) directed by Shawn S. Lealos
  • La Femme Dans la Chambre (The Woman in the Room) (2005) directed by Damien Maric
  • The Boogeyman (Play) (2005) by Graham Rees (60 minutes)

See also


  1. ^ Perakos, Peter S. "Stephen King on Carrie, The Shining, etc." published in Cinefantastique Magazine Vol 1 No 8 Winter 1978. Reprinted in "Feast of Fear" Underwood & Miller, Carroll and Graf 1989 pp. 70


Up to date as of January 14, 2010

From Wikiquote

Night Shift (1978) is the first anthology of short stories by Stephen King. Many of King's most famous short stories were included in this collection.

  • Let's talk, you and I. Let's talk about fear. The house is empty as I write this; a cold February rain is falling outside. It's night. Sometimes when the wind blows the way it's blowing now, we lose the power. But for now it's on, and so let's talk very honestly about fear. Let's talk very rationally about moving to the rim of madness...and perhaps over the edge.
    • Foreword
  • Still...let's talk about fear. We won't raise our voices and we won't scream; we'll talk rationally, you and I. We'll talk about the way the good fabric of things sometimes has a way of unraveling with shocking suddenness.
    • Foreword
  • Fear is an emotion that makes us blind. How many things are we afraid of? We're afraid to turn off the lights when our hands are wet. We're afraid to stick a knife into the toaster to get the stuck English muffin without unpluggin it first. We're afraid of what the doctor may tell us when the physical exam is over; when the airplane suddenly takes a great unearthly lurch in midair. We're afraid that the oil may run out, that the good air will run out, the good water, the good life. When the daughter promised to be in by eleven and it's now quarter past twelve and sleet is spatting against the window like dry sand, we sit and pretend to watch Johnny Carson and look occasionally at the mute telephone and we feel the emotion that makes us blind, the emotion that makes a stealthy ruin of the thinking process.
    • Foreword
  • Fear makes us blind, and we touch each fear with all the avid curiousity of self-interest, trying to make a whole out of a hundred parts, like the blind men with their elephant. We sense the shape. Children grasp it easily, forget it, and relearn it as adults. The shape is there, and most of us come to realize what it is sooner or later: it is the shape of a body under a sheet. All our fears add up to one great fear, all our fears are part of that great fear - an arm, a leg, a finger, an ear. We're afraid of the body under the sheet. It's our body. And the great appeal of horror fiction through the ages is that it serves as a rehearsal for our own deaths.
    • Foreword
  • Where I am, it's still dark and raining. We've got a fine night for it. There's something I want to show you, something I want you to touch. It's in a room not far from here -- in fact it's almost as close as the next page. Shall we go?
    • Foreword
  • I didn't like that machine. It seemed...almost to be mocking us.
  • It was very funny how George Stanner lost his arm in the mangler.
  • So much of the world is paved now. Even the playgrounds are paved. And for the fields and marshes and deep woods there are tanks, half-trucks, flatbeds equipped with lasers, masers, heat-seeking radar. And little by little, they can make it into the world they want... I can see great convoys of trucks filling the Okefenokee Swamp with sand, the bulldozers ripping through the national parks and wildlands, grading the earth flat, stamping it into one great flat plain. And then the hot-top trucks arriving. But they're machines. No matter what's happening to them, what mass consciousness we've given them, they can't reporduce. In fifty or sixty years they'll be rusting hulks with all menace gone out of them, moveless carcasses for free men to stone and spit at... And if I close my eyes I can see the production lines in Detroit and Dearborn and Youngstown and Mackinac, new trucks being put together by blue-collars who no longer even punch a clock but only drop and are replaced.
  • What I propose is this: that you walk around my building on the ledge that juts out just below the penthouse level. If you circumnavigate the building successfully, the jackpot is yours.
  • The ledge is five inches wide. I've measured it myself. In fact, I've stood on it, holding on to the balcony of course. All you have to do is lower yourself over the wrought-iron railing. You'll be chest-high. But, of course, beyond the railing there are no handgrips. You'll have to inch your way along, being very careful not to overbalance.
  • The building sloped away like a smooth chalk cliff to the street far below. The cars parked there looked like those matchbox models you can buy in the five-and-dime. The ones driving by the building were just tiny pinpoints of light. If you fell that far, you would have plenty of time to realize just what was happening, to see the wind blowing your clothes as the earth pulled you back faster and faster. You'd have time to scream a long, long scream. And the sound you made when you hit the pavement would be like the sound of an overripe watermelon.
  • The children of the corn stood in the clearing at midday, looking at the two crucified skeletons and the two bodies...the bodies were not skeletons yet, but they would be. In time. And here, in the heartland of Nebraska, in the corn, there was nothing but time.
  • Behold a dream came to me in the night, and the Lord did shew all this to me...And in my dream the Lord was a shadow that walked behind the rows, and he spoke to me in the words he used to our older brothers years ago. He is much displeased with this sacrifice...And the Lord did say: Have I not given you a place of killing, that you might make sacrifice there> And have I not shewn you favor? But this man has made a blasphemy within me, and I have completed the sacrifice myself...So now is the Age of Favor lowered from nineteen plantings and harvests to eighteen. Yet be fruitful and multiply as the corn multiplies, that my favor may be shewn you, and be upon you.
  • She looked up at us and grinned. And when she did, I felt my longing, my yearning turn to horror as cold as the grave, as white and silent as bones in a shroud. Even from the rise we could see the sullen red glare in those eyes. They were less human than a wolf's eyes. And when she grinned you could see how long her teeth had become. She wasn't human anymore. She was a dead thing somehow come back to life in this black howling storm.
  • Lumley had reached her. He looked like a ghost himself, coated in snow like he was. He reached for her...and then he began to scream. I'll hear that sound in my dreams, that man screaming like a child in a nightmare. He tried to back away from her, but her arms, long and bare and as white as the snow, snaked out and pulled him to her. I could see her cock her head and then thrust it forward.
  • And so we ran. Ran like rats, I suppose some would say, but those who would weren't there that night. We fled back down along our own backtrail, falling down, getting up again, slipping and sliding. I kept looking back over my shoulder to see if that woman was coming after us, grinning that grin and watching us with those red eyes.

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