Scary stories are the best to share around the campfire, a long car ride at night in the middle of nowhere, and slumber parties with way too many people. But the problem with trying to share a scary story, or any story in that situation, is that you have to improvise it. Not everyone is a Mary Shelley, capable of coming up with an instant classic about the rising of the dead rising inspired by recent scientific discoveries of her day. Percy never deserved her.
The thing about a scary story is that it is very easy to scare the audience but very hard to compose a story where the scares make sense. If your audience knows the scare is coming too soon or that you rely too much on the jump, it won’t land. Take, for example, Shelley’s Frankenstein again. It’s a bit dated when it comes to the scares for today, going at a slower pace. But it’s enduring because it makes sense why the Monster is something to be feared, and at the same time, it’s established as a compelling character with motives that the reader understands through both actions and dialog. Frankenstein is a unique case because outside of the process used to create the Monster, very little is left to the reader’s imagination when it comes to the characters. Victor’s ego and self-destructive ways are his tragic flaw, and the Monster’s appearance and intelligence in how he kills those closest to Victor directly showcases its character. The same could be said for some of the later horror and mystery writers that followed Shelley, including Bram Stoker’s Dracula, H. P. Lovecraft’s anxiety-induced cosmic horror zoo, and whatever the heck was going through Stephens King’s mind when he wrote IT. The staple of a good writer, especially one that can write horror, is that they have a defined style and they don’t rush. These elements, while integral to the novel form, can be played, to some extent, when improvising around the campfire. So here are some basic guidelines and ideas to keep in mind next time you want to scare someone’s socks off.
- The false sense of security.
Always lure your audience into a comfortable and almost easy mood to start with. This way, it’s easier to hide your surprising scares and moments as you think up on the spot. Don’t start with “It was a cold and rainy night.” Instead, try, “It was 3 o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.” While not all stories need to start slow, for the most scares per moment, it’s best to build suspense if you don’t know what’s going to happen next so your story keeps momentum. The same is true if you’re writing it out- not every page does a character need to die or the monster appear, nor does a creepy atmosphere need to be the only setting. Keep it fresh with unique places and unexpected plays when it comes to progress.
- The Tropes are not your friends, for now.
Like tip one says, don’t go with familiar unless you can carry it with character or style. If you are great at describing Gothic Victorian architecture, awesome. If not, go with what you know. A cliché is fun, but there’s a reason it’s cliché. A monster under the bed and a killer outside the window, while still scary, have been seen and done, and therefore, when in the campfire setting are boring and predictable. They make you lose your element of suspense and lower your stakes. With the written form, it’s more flexible, as you have a longer time to engage the audience and play the tropes, subversive or straight. But when improvising, they’re more of a crutch that will disinterest your audience rather than hook them. It’s great if you have a vampire in the castle, but that song has been sung. If you want to scare them, try throwing in some action or a surprising twist so the audience stays engaged. While not every story needs to be a new, innovative masterpiece of subversion, suspense and character arcs, a good story just needs to keep going. You can have a rough and shaky middle, but it’s the ending and sticking it to the landing that matters. If you need a trope or cliché to get you going, do it— just don’t keep pulling from the bag of ‘old reliable.’
- Man or monster, seeing is not always believing.
While suspense flourishes with the unseen, gore is visceral and relies on the unnerving nature of being seen. The thriller is phycological, so the horror can be in your protagonist’s head or something that is very real impacting them in their mind. The good old-fashioned monster story can go both ways, what the ghost does and what it looks like don’t always have to be on par with each other. If you don’t have a distinctive look for your monster, killer or characters, you don’t need to show them, or even describe them. Sometimes, the audience is much better at dressing up the characters and settings with the breadcrumbs given to them than the writer is. Use that innate imagination in everyone to help so you can focus on action and build those suspenseful moments, scares and investments for the end goal.
- Always murder your darlings. Do it.
As much as we may love our hero’s complicated life, our final girl’s tragic backstory, or the excessive world-building that is so addictive when it comes to writing, in improv, anything goes, and all these frills are unneeded. While it helps to to direct your story and where it’s going and elements of it can be implemented, it’s best to leave it on the cutting room floor. People’s attention is only so long, and eventually, we all have to get to a point. As much as suspense can carry a story, its scares can also kill it when it’s too baggy to carry. Think of the details, like luggage for your character. In the heavy bag going into cargo can be everything else that makes them up. It can be overstuffed and excessive, but not everyone is going to see everything inside unless they go looking. Now think about what that character needs to bring to the story and put that into their carry-on. If the character can go without it, leave it in the luggage. If nothing fits into the carry-on, start chopping it down- overstuffing the carry-on won’t work. Once the carry-on is complete, send it through security. If security needs to open the carry-on to see everything in it, chop it down again. One cursory glance is all that is needed to get a good and distinctive impression, and now your character is ready to board and fly right into their horrific demise. When they arrive at their demise, they take that carry-on and try hitting the problem, killer or monster, over the head with it. Success varies. Every writer and storyteller loves the darlings, those little details that make up the fictional world into a real and living thing. Your blood, sweat and tears can all be laid out on the page, but not every reader or listener needs to experience that. So into the cargo they go.
- Kill the cast, but only after you’ve served them tea!
As much as we may want to get straight to the monster or the killer, establishing stakes, motives and investment needs to happen first. Remember, everything in that carry-on needs to be utilized before the end. An entire ensemble could perish, but an audience wouldn’t care if they never knew who they were or why they were there. This is especially integral for smaller groups (not so much for Kaiju threats). Having the cast be distinctive with their own unique carry-ons helps when the inevitable comes. While you don’t need to give a backstory to every background casualty, even some simple, distinctive lines help make their demise more impactful. The carry-on only needs to be stuffed with what will get used and what packs the punch. If your character is a nice person who likes pancakes and quotes their favorite movie, that is enough for an audience to form an attachment that you, dear writer, now have the honor of destroying with Pancake Man’s fate in the horrifying tale for your campfire friends.
- Have fun, but always be responsible with your destructive powers.
As the writer, you get to decide who lives, who dies, who gets a happy ending and who’s not going to be mentioned in the sequel. That power is in your hands, and with one sentence, you can end that character’s entire career. So be responsible. If the death or fate has no impact on the end and the story works without it, into the cargo hold with them. Everything doesn’t have to always connect, or even have meaning. But for horror, that is different because the end is what matters. If the audience can’t get invested or if your death is only there to force the character into action, the audience will feel excluded since they need to be right.While the event may be nonsensical and does not have meaning, it all needs to have purpose: scaring the audience. So be responsible with your characters. If you can kill them all off in a satisfying way, that’s great, but it’s okay if nobody dies. There are fates worse than death you can save for them.