Scary stories are all about thrills and chills. While ghouls and gruesome fates are the staple of adult horror, it’s not quite the same writing for adolescent audiences – and nobody does it better than R.L. Stine: the acclaimed author of the Fear Street and Goosebumps novels.
Unlike short-lived campfire tales, novels grant the writer better pacing and allow for more fleshed out plots, character development and a build-up to the quintessential moral lesson (because it wouldn’t be a young readers’ book without one). Although writing a thriller novel for teenagers may seem completely unrelated to marketing, you’d be surprised how applicable Stine’s handy writing programme for students and teachers is. Join Wordsmith as we examine the Stine steps for building a gripping narrative!
The ideation phase
For many, coming up with an idea for a new story is one of the most difficult creative hurdles to clear. Unless you have the eccentricity and imagination of Roald Dahl, you might have difficulty thinking up uniquely original ideas. If you get stuck, try visiting past life experiences and seeing how you can mish-mash them together to see them from a new angle. Stine divides the ideation phase into three categories, which he calls going to “the three departments of the idea store”.
The first department draws from experience. Scenes you’ve personally witnessed are the greatest inspirations in life… and while they may not all be positive experiences, these are your experiences – filled with real details that we have seen, smelt, heard, tasted and/or felt in person. This is why stories stemming from personal experience are so powerful – because they are authentic. In Stine’s example, he recalls seeing a boy alone on an airplane reading a letter. Although Stine didn’t know who it was from or what the letter was about, it gave him an idea for a story where the protagonist receives a lifechanging letter from her mother.
The next department is all about memories. In essence, it is an extension of the first department, as memories and experiences are often tied together. Described as a department that “gets bigger every day”, your memories are an incredible asset because “they always have a beginning, a middle and an end” – more importantly, they already come pre-packaged with a “terrific character… you!”
Although experiences and memories may be hard to differentiate at a glance, we believe the dividing factor is how fresh and vivid the details are. A memory is something striking and unforgettable, whereas an experience is like a fun-sized snack (e.g. Stine seeing a child opening a letter on the plane – if he didn’t decide to commit it to memory, he probably would have forgotten it moments later). As an example of a memory, Stine describes his favourite childhood book being Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes – a story about a nightmarish travelling carnival. With Bradbury’s book as inspiration, Stine puts his spin on carnival terror with My Name is Evil, where a girl receives an ominous fortune from a carnival fortune teller and terrible accidents start happening around her.
The final department is the What if? section: the elusive department that’s tucked far away in the recesses of the store. A place that contains “everything we don’t know about and haven’t experienced.” This is where we can unshackle our imaginations – like in Stine’s Liar Liar: a story about a doppelganger who tries to steal the protagonist’s life.
In fiction, anything is fair game. Not so much in marketing. We’re bound by client expectations, public opinion and even regulations on advertising. No marketing executive would be crazy enough to pitch an idea about a tyrannosaurus rex in a biplane dogfight for a Louis Vuitton ad. However, since this is the department of hypotheticals, not all crazy ideas are trash. You just need to determine the right context. While dinosaurs and war planes would be inappropriate for a luxury lifestyle brand, a bit of crazy is perfect for a Super Bowl ad or a children’s breakfast cereal ad!
Give it a whirl
If coming up with ideas is still a problem, worry not, for Stine has loaded his programme with writing exercises. Try fleshing out one of his prompts about a haunted car:
I poked my head into the old car. The dashboard was covered with dust, and the back of the passenger seat was ripped and stained. “Why does Grandpa Ed keep this old wreck behind the garage?” I asked my sister Ashley.
“Ben, you know why,” she replied. “Grandpa thinks the car is haunted. He won’t go near it.”
“Haunted? Cool,” I said. I climbed behind the steering wheel.
“I’m outta here,” Ashley said. “I don’t like smelly, old cars – especially if they’re haunted.” She disappeared around the side of the garage.
As soon as she was gone, I heard a soft whisper. “Ben . . . let’s go. Take me for a drive.”
“Huh?” I gasped in surprise. I checked to make sure Ashley wasn’t playing a joke on me. But my sister had left.
“Take me for a drive, Ben. I’m so lonely behind the garage.” The voice seemed to be coming from the radio. But the radio was turned off.
I let out a startled cry as the engine started up. The car rattled and clanked, and then the engine hummed smoothly. “Step on the gas, Ben,” the voice whispered. “Don’t be afraid. Let’s GO!”
My heart started to pound. I grabbed the door handle. Should I jump out of the car? I asked myself. Should I tell Ashley what’s happening?
Or should I take the wheel? Step on the gas? Take a chance?
Stine has done several things in this prompt. He’s given us characters to work with, a scenario and ideas for what happens next. Where will you take it next?
If you need a more general and non-fiction writing exercise, Stine offers another suggestion. “Stand in one place for 10 minutes. Choose a place you go to often, such as the library or the driveway of your house… jot down everything you see, hear and feel,” he explains.
Once you’ve done so, draft a journal entry of what you’ve experienced. Be as descriptive as you can! If it was a sunny day, how sunny was it? Was it pleasant and warm? Or did it feel like you were thrown in the oven? Alternatively, if you saw two people arguing about something, don’t be afraid to build a story about their relationship. If you think that pug-nosed fat man was the boss of the scrawny beanpole, convince a potential reader why. Perhaps there was condescension and haughtiness in the fat man’s voice, or perhaps the beanpole’s eyes were glued to the floor like he was ashamed of something. You might not know these people at all, but if you can put readers into the story through your writing, you’re golden.
Perception exercises are excellent ways to get your descriptive juices churning. Great writers like Ernest Hemingway recommend them for training your scene-setting skills. “Concentrate on gathering up as many details as you can and don’t forget smells and tastes,” Stine points out. Regardless how trivial some details may seem, the aroma of freshly baked bread as you stroll into a bakery is a detail that add life and colour to your storytelling.
You don’t have to be a novelist to tell a detailed story. All you need is to go out and experience things. The more you see and feel, the more you have to work with! A rich repertoire of memories and experiences will help to give your writing life, spark and authenticity.