FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
LEMMINGS
Solemn
Coyote
Beneath
the eldritch waning moon of the squamous gibbering frog-people,
Solemn Coyote waits. He’s tapping away on an old type-writer,
‘cause it’s creepy.
Mobman
Because I
could care less what the F.B.I thinks of me
Striped
Feather
Part time Sue-slayer and professional
procrastinator.
Canilla
Stylo
I'm hearing voices in my head... And not the usual ones,
either.
Sakka
Fenikkusu
The great, powerful and egotistical phoenix who
somehow manages to hold a pencil without burning it.
Felicia13
Pretty,
charming, insane. It makes sense on her.
WyrdWolf
Guru
of Irrelevance and Irreverence
WyrdWolf is a talking Lupine
who occasionally brings back a nice dead rabbit or bird for his best
friends.
Lips
and Lashes
Must have
taken the wrong turn somewhere cause that’s the only way anyone
stumbles into Stop The Press…
Burnt
Bread
Master
of Pasta
Doing time for being
just too damn hot
As a child, you believe with absolute certainty that there are monsters out there. You know that, if you don’t have your Power Ranger pajamas, your ragged yellow blankey and the covers pulled up over your head, you could become a snack for the hungry things that stalk the night. As you grow older, the belief falls away. Grown-ups keep telling you that there are no monsters. Eventually you agree. However, there was a time when you believed.
Perhaps it’s genetics that causes this, finding a bizarre way to keep us alive. Children aren’t born with a full understanding of the dangers of the world. They don’t instinctively know that knives are sharp, or that fires are hot, or that pumas are hungry. They do, however, know that monsters are out there. That’s why they stay close by their parents. Some adults have taken advantage of this, working monsters into cautionary stories. “Eat up all your vegetables, or the Gobhobbler will get you.”
And it works. Monsters are scary. You’d finish your carrots, too, if there was a Lovecraftian squid looking over your shoulder. Of course, these monsters can get a little too frightening. They can overpower reason and make a grown man sit up all night, listening to every creak outside his door. And that’s why there are heroes.
A hero makes us feel something more than human. A hero strolls into the dragon’s lair, sword glinting on his hip. A hero dashes into the woods, in pursuit of the werewolf, even though the only bullets in his gun are lead. A hero slays the monster, saves the girl, and lays our fears to rest. But, without that monster, there would be no hero.
Try to keep that in mind while you’re browsing this month’s issue of Bread’s lovely newsletter. While there may be monsters lurking within, there are heroes, too. Every one of you, writer or reader, has demonstrated your bravery by venturing this far. You held your breath, clicked the little blue link at the bottom of the screen, and waited to see what would jump out at you. You knew that there might be monsters, but that you would walk away from them a little wiser and a little less scared.
So, shall we begin?
Who can find a bigger monster than an employer who spills salt into a sugar bowl and asks you to sort it out?
First, I would like to define ‘monster’.
monster, a
legendary animal combing features of animal and human form or having
the forms of various animals in combination
or
any creature so
ugly for monstrous as to frighten people; any animal or human
grotesquely deviating from the normal shape, behavior, or
character
or
a person who excites horror by wickedness,
cruelty, ect.
or
any animal or thing huge in size; anything
unnatural or monstrous
So, there’s a lot things that can be defined as a ‘monster’. You could call that four million year old tree in your backyard a monster because it’s pretty huge or you could call your fruit a monster (technically, since most fruit is genetically engineered, it has the parts of other types of foods...). If you really wanted to, you could call the kid who you copy off in math class a monster, if only because you consider mathematics to be ‘unnatural’. There’s a lot to be covered under the general umbrella of monstrous things.
To make life easier, I’ll only be covering two of the definitions. One is the general “movie monster” (they’re present in just about any horror film you could see) and the other are real life monsters, like serial killers and repeat rapists.
If you randomly walk into a movie theater (let’s say Regal, just for the sake of giving it a name), you’re bound to see at least two horror films in the listing. You might ask yourself why. A possible answer is that people like to be scared. It’s true. So, now that you’ve seen the listing at Regal, you don’t know what to watch. For the sake of argument, you see a horror film (how does Godzilla sound?). Walking into the theater, the movie’s starting (you’re running late). As you get settled in, the real action of the film starts (you’re really late). Godzilla is destroying Japan! Forget that you’ve seen this movie and variations of it several dozen times; this is terrifyingly exciting!
Perhaps the real reason people like horror movies is that being scared gets adrenaline pumping through your system, a leftover instinct from when it was fight or flight all the time. The adrenaline gives you extra energy for just long enough that you can get away or defeat your enemy in battle. It feels good when you’ve got excess energy, like power flowing through your veins.
Movie monsters are the kind that get your blood flowing and your mind racing. It’s a feeling of complete surrender to your instincts, if you allow yourself that. Such a thing is addictive and explains why there are so many horror movies. Movie-goers are addicts to the adrenaline and producers feed their addictions. Simple as that, really.
Now, moving along. Real-life monsters are much scarier and much closer than anyone ever thinks. Did you know that every two and a half minutes, someone is sexually abused? One in six American women are victims of sexual assault. In Washington, DC, 2005, 195 people were murdered, 166 were raped, and 3 971 were assaulted. That’s out of a population of about 550 500 people. Every nine seconds, a woman is assaulted and beaten. Everyday, four women are killed by a boyfriend or husband. Ninety-three percent of women who killed their husbands did so after having been abused by him and sixty-seven percent of them were protecting themselves and their children at the time of his death. The number-one cause of women's injuries is abuse at home. This abuse happens more often than car accidents, mugging, and rape combined.
Shocking, isn’t it? Rapists, murderers, and abusers are abundant on the streets and in the cities of America. The statistics in the above paragraph are for the United States only. It’s only one country and it’s only a small portion of the statistics that exist today. Admittedly, the rates of abuse have been going steadily down and the rates of reporting abuse have been increasing, it doesn’t make the situation any better than it was. When you go to submit a review, look at the options. The second option is reporting possible abuse. The second option. I think that should tell you everything you’re supposed to take from this essay.
The real difference between the movies and life is the effect it has on the people involved. You go to a movie and you can walk out at any time. If it gets too intense, you can close your eyes and cover your ears until that part is over. You’re on the outside looking in when you watch a movie. In real life, there can be no escape. Women who try to leave their abusive partners are seventy-five percent more likely to be killed by him than those who stay.
Maybe the next time you go to watch a horror movie, you’ll remember this and walk out of the theater before the movie starts. The real monsters aren’t on the big screen; they’re hiding behind facades of nice people who donate to children’s hospitals every month.
Between two evils, I
always pick the one I’ve never tried before
Mae West
People ask what I am most afraid of. They expect an answer involving planes, cars, bugs, or even tunnels, and it never fails to amaze them when I reply simply with “the nature of people”. The person, the creature that fought for survival, killed off its brethren, and eventually its creator. The animal that slaughters its own kind in wars, ruthlessly murders its best friend in a drunken rage, smokes things that they know will kill them, and pay for food with paper. The group of worthless little organisms that build cities to fight wars and destroy their children. People, the suicidal lot of desperation and suffering, the assortment of pain and abuse that causes mothers to poison their children. Oftentimes, the person that asks me the question will stare at me in confusion while I explain that we have done things other animals have never done. Name another species that kills off people because of their beliefs. Name one time you clicked on Animal Planet and saw a Christian ape beat the hell out of a Muslim donkey. When was the last time you watched an ant hill carry out a holocaust? Think back to before the dawn of time, when God got pissed off at Lucifer and kicked him out of heaven. In my own opinion, this is where evil started, with the most holy person losing His temper and kicking out an old friend. These days, people like this are arrested if they’re lucky enough not to freeze in the cold alleys. Name another putrid creation that allows its own family to sleep in the gutter of an urban jungle. Think up one more living, breathing, worthless waste of space that needs a suicide hotline, where the poor and desperate pay twenty five cents a minute for salvation. Where you can praise your creator one day and sleep with your secretary the next day. People ask me why I think like this, why I believe that humans are the worst possible way for God to show His love. Insert my turn to stare blankly in confusion. And I t ell them, name one other place where you can go to see an animal destroy its own habitat, its own family, and using its knowledge to create the greatest monster ever created.
Monsters seem to choose the stupidest places to hide. Don’t get me wrong—I mean, who would want to stay on a Serta when you could lay underneath it? Nothing like dust, dirty magazines (yes, I mean that in every sense of the word) and a broken spring spearing through the top of your horned skull to tell you, ‘yeah, this is worth it.’ The only thing better than that paradise is a cramped closet with a coat hanger sticking into your eyeball as you choke on what you hope to God isn’t asbestos. Graveyards are usually freezing cold no matter what, tall grass is full of ticks, and as tempting as pitch darkness can be, one misplaced roller skate could mean a concussion, a discovery, and an embarrassing front-page picture of you in your skivvies. Try behind a chair or a door, or just grab that little eight-year old. Or, even better yet, go buy a taco. They’re cheap, they’re yummy, and you won’t spend days afterward picking shreds of Pac-Man pajamas out of your teeth.
Monsters take many forms. A few might include Frankenstein's monster, Dracula, the Werewolf of London, and several unlucky people's younger siblings. They also take much more subtle forms: the people around our protagonist who unwittingly messes everything up, the protagonist himself as a failure in perception or a streak of Anti-Sue puts them in big trouble, or the writer. Yes, you. You, in some ways, are as big a monster as the most ferocious of your characters.
Think about it. Without conflict, there is no story. Who creates the story? You do. So who creates the conflict?
Let's label that question as rhetorical.
Okay, so you might put your characters in unneeded suffering a lot of the time. That doesn't mean you're a horrible person... just a very mean God. Because, writing a story gives you essentially that - the power of a God (or a ruler with power close to it).
In a story of mine, I appear as a wicked monarch over my characters, deleting them whenever they don't fit in the story, and delighting in their suffering. Even if this is a huge exaggeration, it's true in some aspects - especially for most of you. You know what I'm talking about. In all those forums, you were the ones saying, "Yeah, well, why should I cry when I kill off my characters?"
I guess the point of this article is to say... get a soul. Ironically enough, it's kind of good to make a light at the end of the tunnel. If someone has lost everything, they have nothing to lose... which means they'll probably kill the King. I mean... something. Oh, just let your characters have some happiness already!
I’d like to turn your attention to the worst book ever written. I’d also like to encourage you to read it. “Vampire Hunter D”, penned by Hideyuki Kikuchi, is so bad that it approaches a kind of artistry. Written in the grand tradition of “one man fights legions of monsters, surviving only by dint of his ridonkulousness,” D is a B-movie in novel form. It features an overwhelmingly handsome half-vampire, slavering herds of sci-fi and fantasy monsters, and numerous young ladies in need of rescue.
A couple of months ago, I wrote an article about “Blade Ironstaff” and his unstoppable teenage powers. Little did I know, D was the source for all of Mr. Staff’s strength. He can dodge bullets by twitching his facial muscles, stare down a room of armed thugs, break enchantments with his hands, and split laser beams with his sword. Let me just call attention to that again. I don’t think I used nearly enough italics. Laser beams. With his sword.
“Okay, so why do I want to read this, again?” you ask. Well, because D is the biggest cliché that ever lived. And because a cliché is a complicated idea distilled down to its most elemental, most primal state. That means there are no limits on what D can fight. Because Kikuchi-san doesn’t focus much on character development or logic, he’s free to pit D against anything. The archetypal hero can fight the archetypal monster again and again in every volume. You might not learn anything about form or finesse from “Vampire Hunter D”, but you will definitely learn the basics of human/monster interaction.
Why didn’t the ghost cross the road?
Because it had no guts.
What can you find between Godzilla’s toes?
Slow runners
Why was the cannibal expelled from school?
He was buttering up his teacher.
Why don’t skeletons go out to town?
Because they don’t have any body to go out with.
What do you call a person who mashes their corn flakes?
A cereal killer.
And now you’ve all been sufficiently traumatized with bad humor, let’s continue with the newsletter!
Monsters are everywhere.
How do I know? Well, they’re in my friends, they’re in my enemies, they’re in my family, they’re… simply everywhere.
No, no silly. I’m not talking about those silly furry big-toothed monsters that live under your bed or in the closet – but those do exist.
It’s just that, they prefer eating candy. I mean, seriously – we probably taste like crap. Have you ever sucked on your thumb? Not really something you’d want to eat.
I just looked out into my backyard, saw some cute little birds (who eat Champ’s dog food) and had the greatest urge to make a bird feeder.
You know, that totally relates to this topic ‘Monsters’. Those cute little birds are monsters. Why would they steal a poor dog’s food? Would you like it if had food stolen?
Even if it tasted like dog food?
Well, of course not.
Now, let me explain my third sentence. They’re in my friends because my friends are mean to my enemies. They’re in my enemies because my enemies are mean to my friends. They’re in my family because my family won’t buy me candy so I have to resort to sneaking quarters to school and buying from the extremely extremely extremely extremely overpriced vending machines, and now the vending machines are closing down because of some random bill that’s being passed or something because California thinks we’re all getting fat which isn’t true for some of us so that is really uncool.
See? Everywhere.
Monsters scare us, sure. But who knows, they might be afraid of their own shadow, too; they’re probably just scaring us to compensate for something else. Guess what.
You know them, you love them (or in many cases, are plain freaked out by them); monsters are truly in a fantasy buff’s heart. It’s simply amazing what you can do with a good monster in a plot, especially if you can make them unique.
So you can imagine my shock when there are many authors out there that go for the standard elf-and-sword shtick or the evil-and-misunderstood-dragon-that-kidnaps-a-maiden every time they write. It’s not original! It’s not new! It doesn’t make one ponder on how they can use it to potentially proclaim their plans for world domination! (Ahem…).
Point is, whenever you care to devise a new world in the grand universe of Fantasy you need to be able to make it unique. It doesn’t matter if you go for fame or fortune if you write fantasy or not, but your goal should be to expand your creativity. What you need to do is to stand out and help clear the playing field for new ideas and techniques.
As a self-proclaimed monster watcher, there are three things that I look out for in a good monster. Those are creativity, plausibility, and the absence of really bad good-and-evil categorization.
Instead of falling for the fatal trap of Tolkienism that so many authors are keen to get in on, try messing around with a cliché or a stereotype. A good many published authors have already fooled around with the idea of a dragon that is utterly indifferent to the human race instead of having them eat humans or fall in love with a ‘beautiful maiden’. The standard hero-with-a-sword cliché could be changed to a-hero-with-a-frying-pan, or something along those lines. If you use this while creating your monster you have a possibility for success. Actually, Tolkien created his series by working with clichés and making already used monsters (such as goblins and dragons) into something new. So instead of copying his monsters, copy the technique he used to template his creatures.
There’s also the unexplored land of Creating Your Own Monster that many writers seem to skim over. One of the few things that make monsters likeable and interesting beyond working with what’s already out there is to create your own creatures.
Some people just try to blend features of real animals together with the usual magical powers to make a monster. Those work, yes, but try to build it from scratch. Think of what would be possible in an ecosystem that is quite different from ours in your fantasy world. What would the producers and the secondary consumers be? What would be the tertiary consumers, or the predators, be? How would they have adapted to the terrain and local threats? You don’t need to go and write a whole fifteen page report on it, but try to think of those when you sketch out your monster. Making them plausible in our world doesn’t necessarily need to happen, but try to make it possible in your one and be logical about it. No self respecting monster is going to have sixteen sets of teeth, a poisoned whip tail, talons the size of an SUV, and a basilisk’s glare; they’d kill each other off before humans could come around or eat themselves to death because the have zero competition.
Using examples from what was present on earth (think dinosaurs) you template before messing around with their appearance a bit can work well. Either way, try to make your monsters your own.
So if you see a monster watcher hiding in the bushes at three o’clock in the morning in the freezing rain while observing the habits of wyverns, give him a mug of tea. These are the folks that try to help the fellow author by redefining Fantasy Land ™ flora and fauna.
It was another rainy day in the town of Wazitcaled, and Mrs. Dullen was once again attempting to teach the class Language Arts. It wasn’t that the kids were unruly; it was the nose that was the problem. Her nose. Mrs. Dullen would sneeze and sneeze and by the end of the day, if the kids had learned anything, it would be the difference between 1-ply and 2-ply tissues. There is a difference. Mrs. Dullen threw away her final tissue and looked mournfully at her third empty tissue box this week. “Class, I need to go find some more tissues. Please don’t burn down the building!” She ran out the door, sneezing all the way.
Silence ensued. No one said “Time to party!” No one broke out the soda and sugar. The kids wanted to learn. That was because Mrs. Dullen always had the coolest activities planned to accompany her lessons. But she wasn’t around; and the students weren’t sure what to do. Ned, the geek of the class, spoke up. His voice was nearly as nasal as Mrs. Dullen’s, though the only disease he had was nerdiness. “Mrs. Dullen would want us to pick a topic to discuss. Personally, I would like to discuss-” He hefted a large dictionary onto his desk; somehow managing to do this without breaking his scrawny arms “-Leporides; Belgian hares that were formally-”
“Dude, no one wants to hear it.” Chad spoke up. Chad was the coolest kid in school, and everyone in the classroom turned to listen to what he had to say. “Monster Masher II the videogame is coming out next week. Why don’t we welcome its arrival with a discussion on monsters?” A rousing cheer erupted from every mouth.
“Monster: a legendary animal, such as a centaur or a unicorn, a creature so ugly or monstrous that it frightens people, any animal or human that is radically different (in a bad way) from its race in behavior and/or appearance, a person that excites horror through cruelty, any animal that is huge in size, anything unnatural,” recited Ned as soon as the cheering subsided. Slash, the Goth boy in the back row, looked up from under the brim of his black hat and commented; “Monsters are always on the evil side of stories, movies, videogames and whatnot. Sometimes they are born that way, sometimes they are created that way, but most of the time they come to be that way due to previous experiences. More often than not, monsters are misunderstood or corrupted, rather than evil.”
It was Sally the Prep’s turn put in her two cents, “Monsters are disgusting! Eww!” She wiped the invisible remnants of a figment of her imagination off of her hands on to Bailey’s jeans. Bailey was the tomboy next to her, and she shouted “Awesome! Monsters rule!” Ned snuffed and pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. “We are mainly speaking of the mythical and creature side of monsters, what of the human ones?” Susan, Slash’s shy younger sister, sniffed and tugged on her brother’s sleeve. She whispered something in his ear, then immediately hid behind him. He spoke for her, “Susan says that the cruelty of some murderers is monstrous. I have to agree, some crimes that humans have committed are worse than things that mythical creatures have been said to do. Humans have the imagination to create monsters that reflect their inner being.”
“Dude, don’t forget the other definition!” Chad’s cousin, Brad said, punching Slash on the shoulder. Slash gave Brad a glare, and if looks could kill, this murder would have been rather monstrous. Brad shivered and muttered, “The part about something being huge.” Sally smiled with unnaturally white teeth, and a few kids turned away to avoid being blinded. “Like the fact that my daddy has a monstrously large bank account?”
“Account? As in singular?” Slash skeptically replied. “I was under the impression that he had more than one.” Sally pretended not to hear as she looked over at her best friend Annie. “The oak tree outside of the school is monstrous!”
The students started shouting phrases to no one in particular.
“That thing the mad scientist made on that horror movie last night was a monstrosity!”
“Monster Masher is chock full of mythological creatures!”
“The torture devices used in the middle ages were monstrously horrible!”
“Mr. Drew from Algebra has a monstrously ugly toupee!”
“That killer who murdered that woman in the news is a monster!”
“Speaking of monsters, who votes that our very own Slash is a vampire in disguise?!” Brock, the school insulter (yes, they exist, and with better names!), received a sharp blow on the head from Slash, who was tired of being called a monster behind his back and in front of his face. “Who thinks Brock is the monster; considering how often he picks on everyone?” Slash asked, looking at everyone with a ‘if you don’t agree with me now you’ll be dead in the morning’ sort of look. When enough hands were raised to satisfy Slash, he tipped his hat over his eyes once again.
“Poor Mrs. Dullen is stuck with a monster of a cough.” Susan commented, just barely loud enough for Slash and Brad to hear. Once they had relayed the message, others nodded and spoke their agreements. At that point, Mrs. Dullen stumbled in with three boxes of tissues and a bag of cough drops. “I’m so sorry children, but I’m too sick to teach. I’ll have to go, I just forgot my purse.” She picked up the brown carpetbag. “That’s too bad, I had a great lesson planned for today. We were going to have an open discussion on the literary use of monsters.” As she clicked her tongue in disappointment, the group of twenty looked at each other in silent surprise. Annie spoke up first; “That’s okay Ma’am! There’s always next time!” Mrs. Dullen nodded absentmindedly and hobbled out the door, shaking with every cough and sneeze.
“We never say a word on this; agreed?” Chad held out his palm.
“Agreed!” said the class as one, sticking their hands in the center in a not so silent or solemn agreement. The bell rang, and all picked up their bags, deciding right then and there that they would teach themselves from now on.
Psychological thrillers and gore are two subcategories in the horror genre with monsters that just don’t appeal to me. Call me a traditionalist, but I like my monsters primitive, savage and interesting to look at.
In recent years, there has been a shift away from monsters which are physically distinguishable (Godzilla, Frankenstein monster, the man with a fly head) to the monster that messes with you psychologically (the pervert, the boy who pins dead rabbits on his wall... not that Donnie Darko was a bad movie per say) and I’m getting sick of it. And if, like me, you are ever trying to dodge the current of popular culture, I say this weekend, give Tarentino’s latest flick a miss and instead go rent out Alien, Aliens, Alien 3, Alien Resurrection, and (why not) Alien vs Predator. Lean back on your recliner chair with a well deserved cup of milk and enjoy monsters in the way they’re suppose to be enjoyed.
The Alien series are perfect monster films. It’s pretty much clear black and white – there’s a monster, and then there are humans who fight it. None of that smart ass blurring the lines between good and evil, the influences of environment to shape someone into a monster and all that crap. There’s no deeper meaning or higher message. The endings are conclusive and don’t contain any sort of hidden meaning.
Another good thing about Alien is that you can cheer for both sides. In these movies, aliens are basically the only constant that carried through all movies meaning that they are the main characters. It’s ok to scream ‘oh yeah, that’s right, rip that mo fo apart’ and then a moment later be whimpering ‘no, it’s behind you!’.
Also unless you’re young enough to still wet your bed at night, chances are that the Alien movies aren’t going to cause you any sort of trauma. Enjoy the simplicity of the plot, be fascinated by the way the aliens hunt down humans and ogle Sigourney Weaver to your heart’s content.
Watching the Alien series is like going out on a cheap date (possibly better). Wham, bam, thank you ma’m. No serious emotional attachment, just pure entertainment.
I’ve decided to go crazy and write something that might actually help people—that’s why this newsletter is here, no? Buckle up and prepare for potholes, bad weather, and small children in the backseat.
Monsters. They’re more common in stories than anything. From the classics, like Frankenstein or Dracula, to the more modern pieces, like It or giant spiders. Thinking about using them in writing?
Okay, monsters. They’re scary, they’re creepy, and they’re carnivorous. There is definitely more than one way to use monsters.
One is to scare your reader. Now, I know you’re probably thinking, ‘Duh. Go play in traffic.’, but hear me out. Stephen King uses monsters to scare people. His creatures are the kind that strike fear into your heart when you read a sentence about them lurking around a corner, or when you get fleeting bits of their description. He uses monsters to provoke utter fear, the kind of fear that makes you scared of real life and think that one of his monsters might very well be hiding just out of your sight. They scare you, they make you cringe.
You can use monsters to just gross the reader out. ‘Gooey’ is a remarkably good word to use if you want your reader to make the ‘Ugh!’ face. So is ‘squelch’. Try to make the monster as disgusting as you can imagine; slimy skin, beaks, tentacles with sucking suckers that make pop! noises, drool, mild sexual comments said in a distorted voice. If description, imagery, downright drawing with words is what you’re into, use it. Skills are nothing if you don’t acknowledge them; conjure up an ungodly creation and loose it on the reader’s brain.
Monsters are incredible stalk tools. Nothing invokes quiet fear like a monster slowly shadowing a protagonist. It can make subtle noises, the kind of noises the character knows he hears but credits it to wind, small animals, or his imagination. Make it slide along the ceiling, or blend into the environment. Make it breathe, but when he turns, nothing’s there. A good stalking scene builds up to a heart-stopping climax, and if you can make a monster that’s just right for that then you’re in the money. Readers love hear-in-the-throat, oh-my-God-is-he-gonna-get-caught moments. If you make your monster so stealthily creepy, get him closer and closer and closer and closer and BAM!, then you have got yourself a killer scene that is going to turn out gasps.
Monsters can be killing machines if you’re into writing fight scenes. Give ‘em the classic big bad claws and teeth, or make them snake-like. A monster fight can spice up just about anything if you write it right. Make the monster bleed; when parts are cut off of it make ‘em writhe like they’ve still got some fight in them. Definitely make it vomit up some gross, acidic and/or blinding fluid, occasionally.
I’m thinking that’s about it. No doubt there are more, but I’ve got 34 questions on Julius Caesar to do. Outstanding.
Thankyou to all that contributed to Stop The Press, Issue 6.
Next issue topic is Super powers
Submissions due no later than 26th April
Details for submissions are posted on the profile
