This is my seventh and final post for the
May Monster Madness Blog Hop. I'm a writer, so I thought I'd share with you some of my thoughts around creating a monster on the page.
The Name
Many monsters already have names, we have vampires and werewolves and ghosts and ghouls, but there are many ways to play with even existing names to add something a little different to a monstrous creation. Sometimes I have a name in mind for one of my monsters, sometimes not and sometimes I just go with the pre-existing term, but a name can convey a lot.
Let's try an example: if I called a monster in my story a Snurfle Dumkin, what would you think? Well, for me, I'd think I was in the realm of a loveable monster, because the sounds I have used in my name conjure up ideas of friendliness. Snurfle is close to snuffle, and 'kin' is a sound often used as a diminutive. However, if I called my monster a Sandrack, the sounds are much harder, more menacing and I've even thrown in a suggestion it could live in soft earth thanks to the use of 'sand' in the name.
So, making up a monster from scratch, a lot can be said in a name, but what if we're playing in an existing sandpit, i.e. we're using vampires, or werewolves, or such like. Well, a writer can add their own mark to these monsters with names as well. This was done very effectively in Underworld, where the werewolves were called Lycans - it instantly told us, the viewers, that we had to look out for the rules of the world associated with these creatures, they may not be common-or-garden werewolves.
I have a werewolf YA story,
Samling Born, in
The Wittegen Press Giveaway Games Anthologies, which I plan to turn into a longer work, and there, I didn't change the name of the species, they are still werewolves, but I did give them a group name, The Samling, to add my own stamp to my breed of werewolf.
The Raison D'etre
A lot of lower budget horror movies forget this important point, and it separates a good story from a poor one, I think. Every monster has to have a reason to be. Why are they in the story? Why are they doing what they are doing? Even if this is a mystery to the reader/watcher, because the suspense of not knowing is part of the story, the writer still has to know, otherwise, how would we be able to write what our monster will do next?
I am writing a YA vampire series called 'Heritage is Deadly', and my major antagonist for the first story, whose echo will go through all the other books, is Raxos, the vampire father of my protagonist, Tom. The stories are written from Tom's point of view, the reader does not know Raxos' motivation for doing what he is doing, except for what he shares with Tom, but I know, and it is a major influence for later stories that I am developing.
On the surface, Raxos is a ruthless, selfish, destructive brute, playing games for his own amusement, which could suffice as his raison d'etre, it was enough for The Gods of Ragnarok in Doctor Who The Greatest Show In The Galaxy, whose very lives fed off being entertained. However, this kind of reason to be would not sustain Raxos' presence for more than one book. Thus, Raxos has a large back story and motives that I can dip into as needed to add depth and colour to the sequels.
The Look
When considering how to describe a monster, I always think about what I am trying to convey with them. Despite the terminology, 'The Look' covers more than just sight, I consider all the senses, which is something books have over TV or film. Like the name, the look of a monster can tell the reader/watcher a lot about that monster way before they act.
During this blog hop, lots of people have been talking about lots of different monsters, from the mindless, shuffling zombie to the 'nearly normal' serial killer. Instantly these are mentioned, certain ideas come to mind. The zombie looks like it is decaying inside its torn and detritus-covered clothes, plus for the written medium, maybe there is a stench of that flesh decomposing as the mindless creature advances on its prey. The sound that accompanies the lumbering zombie is the shuffle thump, shuffle thump of it's slow advance, plus maybe a hollow moan.
At the other end of the spectrum lies the vampire, suave and sophisticated in many incarnations. Francis Ford Coppolla's Dracula gave us two 'looks' for Dracula, both very stylised to match the mood of the film. One is the archaic Transylvanian lord, alien to Jonathan Harker's eyes, an old, eccentric man. Then there is the Victorian gentleman, but even that look allows the viewer to see Dracula's strangeness, an otherworldly sexiness that sets him apart from Victorian London. Both looks are rich and sophisticated, but could not be more different in the face of the vampire they show us. The transylvanian lord is strange, clearly from another culture, another time even, whereas the Victorian gentleman is a disguise behind which those who know can recognise the seductive monster.
The reader and the viewer both make assumptions from the look of a character, so it better be right. :)
The Reveal
I may have imagined up the most terrifying monster from the black pit of despair with deadly tentacles and eyes burning with supernatural fire, but it I dump him in straight in front of my audience with no build up and no suspense, I have lost half the battle to captivating my reader. Introducing my monster is all important.
Maybe I should start with that black pit,
nothing can be seen, only a smell of death and rotting flesh.
Then perhaps
a tentacles slithers slowly out of the gloom, much to the horror of those watching:
it's long and agile, searching along the ground, curling over anything it finds and oozing foul-smelling slime in its path.
It's not that much of a threat, yet, just a revolting curiosity. However,
then, suddenly, the tentacle whips out towards one of our spectators, latching around his torso. He screams, convulses and collapses, the tentacle tightening round his suddenly unconscious body and with one heave, the helpless human is halfway back to the pit. His companions dive in to help, they grab for his arms and pull him back. Yet the thing is incredibly strong and they are still sliding towards doom, although more slowly.
So now the tension is building. What owns this tentacle and can the humans save their friend? The humans are intent on their friend, getting him to safety, and the reader should be too when, wham, things get a whole lot worse.
The ground shakes, a low rumbling rises up out of the pit, trembling through the would-be rescuers and then a huge, shadowy form looms out of the crevasse. It is immense, the form too big to see all at once up so close, but large, sunken eyes, their depths shining with a devil-red, captivate the humans....
Well, I threw that piece together as I was thinking the reveal through, so it's not brilliant, but I hope you get what I mean. Build up, suspense, shock, they all play a big part in monster impact.
Alien did it very well, introducing a complete unknown that goes from an egg and then a face-hugger all the way to something that could be the ultimate threat to humankind in the Xenomorph.
Predator too, having a killing machine remain invisible for most of the film. Even the old classic of the protagonist walking into a darkened room, which is a favourite of horror films is a very effective reveal - we all know something is going to happen, bit we don't know what, and it builds the suspense, so that when the monster darts out of the shadows, we're good and ready to be terrified by it. ;)
So that's it, my last post for May Monster Madness. Thanks to those who organised this great event,
Annie Walls,
Emma from Little Gothic Horrors, and Ked from
Something Wicked This Way Comes. It's been a lot of fun!