How to Write a Compelling Monster

Let’s get this out of the way. Big opinion incoming: Monsters rock. 

There’s probably no genre I like more than creature features. I feel confident saying I probably watch more monster movies and read more monster fiction than most people, which is exactly why I also feel confident making this grandiose statement… the majority of this genre is bad. 

Just looking at movies for a second, there are so many great monster movies. Jaws, Gremlins, Godzilla, King Kong, Alien, and so many more are all incredible “monster movies” despite all of them being completely different in style and tone. 

Movies like those lead to people thinking “okay, I just need a big or weird thing and it needs to eat/claw/laser some people and I’m all good,” which then leads to a surplus of bad 80’s movies that I am honestly tired of defending. So how do you write a great monster story and not discount schlock? 

I’m literally trying to figure that out right now. 

What kind of monster story are you telling? 

Remember how all those movies I used as examples were different genres and tones? When approaching a monster story, you want to know how you want your monster to make people feel. 

Many classic monsters, like The Wolfman or Frankenstein, want to show the thin line between humanity and horrific creature, so they play up the human elements. Frankenstein may take an extra second to play with a child, or a werewolf may hesitate when he goes to bit a person he loves in human form. These monsters are designed to be scary while still being relatable. The writers want you to identify with them enough that you see the tragedy of their situation. 

There’s a reason so many of these movies end with somber music playing after the monster is killed. They are trying to make you feel for the creature. 

Meanwhile, there’s a creature like the shark in Jaws, or the xenomorph from Alien. These are portrayed as overpowered instinctual killing machines. The writers don’t want you to see any humanity in these animalistic creatures. In fact, they want you to see them so one-dimensionally as killer beasts, that you end up wondering if they could have even been evil inside somehow, despite just being a force of nature.

Then there’s the massive range of creature that falls in-between. The Gremlins seem to understand human behavior and even pop-culture, which makes them relatable, but then they use that knowledge to scratch, bite, shoot, flash, and explode people (and each other), which means they are objectively nefarious. The writers here want to make a monster that’s entertaining and has elements the audience can digest, without making them any less threatening to the main characters. 

One final example I want to briefly touch on is humanoid monsters, like Dracula. These are monsters that are so close to human you’ll need to think through how their monstrous side comes out, instead of the opposite. If you can find the right powers or actions to make a reader think of someone humanoid as a monster, you’ll have be able to scare or entertain them much easier. More on the abilities thing later. 

There’s no right or wrong way to go about it, but your monster’s personality or lack of one will speak volumes in the short bursts we see them. 

Monster as a metaphor 

One of the horror genre’s most used concepts is a supernatural being or creature that is an allegory for something very real. The inescapable terror of The Babadook is designed to mirror the feelings of battling depression. The female teen werewolves of Ginger Snaps are replicating the awkward transformation of puberty and becoming a young adult. The most famous example of this is Godzilla, who was a giant walking warning of the dangers of atomic weapons. 

Finding an attachment to the real world that you want to use satirically can be a great in for a monster story. Think about what terrifies, angers, or makes you laugh in our world then think through what the pulpiest fictional version of that is. 

Less is more 

Earlier I made a comment about seeing your monster in bursts. That was a big assumption, but the more your monster is highlighted, the less mysterious it will be. You want your audience to either dread thing thing, or be so curious they can’t wait to learn more. 

If the first time a monster shows up it shows itself enough for a full description, or a character overexplains what it is, you’ve instantly lost a free element of suspense. Even in overly simple monster stories, slowly revealing it over time will almost always keep a reader interested. 

Then, when it is fully revealed, they’ve hopefully been primed enough to feel satisfied and invested, versus having a feeling “oh, that's it.”

Scale and impact 

If a monster is entering your story, the story is going to change. There has to be an impact. If you are using a creature you would call a monster to world-build or add more depth to lore, then I beg you consider this line of thinking. Even simply seeing something beyond what is known would change a character on some level. 

Your character might not be scarred for life or anything, but just seeing a dragon, giant bug, weird figure made of shadows, etc. in the distance changes the information they were working with thirty seconds ago. They may never encounter it directly, but knowing something is out there is chilling. If you can enforce that your character now has to keep this in the back of their mind, it will be easier to get it stuck into a reader’s mind. 

Sure, your character may exist in a universe of goblins, werewolves, and demons and maybe they’ve seen all these creatures a hundred times over. In that case, you should ask yourself if these creatures are even “monsters.” If they are normal, what would a genuine monster look like for this character. 

This idea of changing the way someone thinks goes double if your story is about the monster. If you think about Jaws, the characters behave differently once they know there’s a shark, but where they truly show change is when they learn what kind of shark they are dealing with. We see Sheriff Brody go from scared and put out, to almost desensitised, almost as if he’s unable to fully process something this big and evil lives in his world. Meanwhile, Quint, the fisherman hired to kill the shark, can’t help but feel excited and crazed. Their personalities don’t completely change, but as they gather more information on what they’re dealing with, they fall further into their tendencies. 

The monster’s origin 

Where did your monster come from? Did it fall from space, come from the sea, manifest out of a dream? You’d be surprised by how much having even a simple idea of where this thing could be from will make writing in details on it later. 

The obvious thing to add here is that whatever you come up with can go into your story, but doesn’t have to. Sometimes not knowing anything about a monster is the scariest thing, and unnecessary information will only break suspense. 

Think about your monster using the iceberg theory.

You know those youtube thumbnails that always say “iceberg explained!” Sure you do. The iceberg is a way of saying that a story or character has a lot more under the surface of what is shown. It’s an oversimplification, but apply that to your monster. 

On the surface it has scales and red eyes, and that may be all the characters ever learn about it, but you should think about it further. Why is is physically built like that? What kind of environment would lead to scales of that type? Does it have claws because it burrows? 

Even if none of it ever comes out in your story, you can dig into all the below surface elements of your monster, then use these ideas the second you get stuck or don’t know how it should be behaving. 

This line of thinking will help you ground an animalistic creature or maybe even help you make a more abstract monster more surreal as you come up with even more ways it doesn’t follow our logic. 

Sprinkle these elements into your writing but never feel like you have to put it all out there. You should hope your readers will want to theorize and wonder on their own. 

Strengths and Weaknesses 

If you comb through all the other info you’ve been building for your monster, you likely already have an idea of its strengths. What I would consider, is now making sure it also has unique weaknesses. Werewolves are fast and powerful, but hate silver. Dracula can do a million weird evil things with his mind, but also has a wide array of mystical weaknesses. 

This creative approach to combating a monster only makes it even more interesting. Consider adding convoluted ways to stop your monster, then digging into why those weaknesses exist and exploring how your characters can exploit them. 

Also keep in mind those tropes I used as example are there for a reason. Silver, crucifixes, and other classical horror defenses are great jumping off points if you aren’t sure where to go for your weaknesses. 

So… Uh… What is this thing? 

Okay, the most obvious part. What actually is the monster? What does it look like? What does it do? What does it want?

Well, I can’t tell you that. All I can do is hope coming up with this part sounds fun to you and that you have a better idea of how to present these ideas. 

I’m sure it won’t be stressful or difficult at all.

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