Save the Cat! Writes a Novel

by Jessica Brody

  This story type is old. You could easily say it’s a classic. It dates all the way back to the myth of the Minotaur and the Maze. And authors have been successfully respinning this same template over and over again. From Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist to Adam Nevill’s The Ritual.

  Stephen King and Dean Koontz have both made a “killing” in this genre. From The Shining, Salem’s Lot, It, and Pet Sematary by King to Watchers, Midnight, and Hideaway by Koontz, many a classic novel by these two falls into this category.

  And readers gobble them up! Why? Because the template works. It’s a story blueprint that continues to haunt readers time and time again. The three essential ingredients of a successful Monster in the House tale are (1) a monster, (2) a house, and (3) a sin.

  Let’s take a look at the monster first. These come in all shapes and sizes. They can be as human as you and me (or at least seem to be on the outside!) or they can be as far out and as paranormal as our imaginations will allow. From serial killers to evil spirits to scientific experiments run amok, their common denominator is some sort of “supernatural” power. And I don’t mean supernatural in the magical sense (although those monsters exist too). I mean it in the literal sense. These monsters function outside the realm of natural human behavior. For instance, a serial killer fueled by insanity has a supernatural power. They don’t act like normal human beings. They are piloted by evil. Of course, there are also the monsters whose power really does come from something paranormal, magical, or science-fictional, like the spirits in The Shining, the demon in The Exorcist, the murderous nanoswarms in Prey by Michael Crichton, the mysterious mind-altering “ambrosia” found at the bottom of the ocean in The Deep by Nick Cutter, or the man-made creature in Frankenstein.

  All monsters, by definition, are supernatural. They’re driven by a motivation that goes against the laws of nature. Which is why, in so many of these types of novels, the characters (and the reader!) often don’t just fear for their lives. They fear for their souls.

  SO. MUCH. SCARIER.

  Death is nothing. But the idea that something worse than death could happen to us? That’s where the real fear comes in, because it goes beyond our comprehension as mere mortals. That’s also why zombie stories are so successful. Those dudes aren’t just dead. They’re undead. And that’s so much worse, because of the fear that we, too, could lose our soul and become just like them.

  Second, every great Monster in the House novel should have some kind of confined space in which the monster exists. We call this the house. And I’ll give you a hint: the smaller the space (or the more isolated the heroes), the better the story. Houses can range from literal houses, like in The Exorcist or The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, to an entire town, like in Salem’s Lot; an isolated desert, like in Prey; a creepy lab stationed at the bottom of the ocean in The Deep; or even an entire country. As long as the monster’s wrath is specific or targeted in some way. For instance, the monster in Frankenstein is free to roam about the entire world, but he attacks only Victor Frankenstein’s closest friends and family. His beef is with his creator, no one else. Therefore, the “house” in that novel is Victor’s family unit.

  Whatever your choice may be, the key takeaway here is the idea of being trapped. If your heroes can just hop in the car and skedaddle right on out of there, where’s the threat? What’s the conflict? Where’s the story? Being stuck somewhere or targeted for some reason is the whole point of the genre. Because what’s scarier than a soul-destroying monster? A soul-destroying monster you can’t escape from!

  But more important than a monster and a house is the third genre ingredient: a sin.

  The prey that the monster is stalking (often our hero or heroes!) cannot be completely innocent. Someone is responsible for bringing the monster into being, invading the monster’s territory, or waking the monster up. And it’s usually either the hero, a counterpart of the hero, or even all of humanity who has committed this sin. Either way, this catastrophe is somehow our fault.

  In Frankenstein, the sin is Dr. Frankenstein’s human arrogance in his attempt to play God and create human life. So it’s only fitting that the very human life he created would turn against him.

  In Prey, the sin is human greed (a popular sin among Monster in the House tales!). The company featured in the novel, Xymos, is so desperate to have their new scientific project succeed that they start messing with the laws of biology, letting technology run amok. And guess what happens? That very technology (in this case a swarm of nanoparticles) comes back to kill them. Crichton plays with this sin a lot in his novels. The same template can be found in his phenomenal best seller Jurassic Park, in which human greed leads, once again, to technology run amok. It’s a warning to the rest of us about letting science go too far. And it’s why these types of novels are so successful. We can heed that warning. It applies to us!

  The sin is really what makes this genre work. It’s what makes these stories resonate with readers. Because the sin almost always ties into the deeper theme, that universal lesson that we can all relate to. This sin is essentially a warning label to the rest of us.

  Beware! This could happen to you, if you don’t learn from these mistakes!

  It’s one thing to get eaten; it’s another to get eaten because of something we did. The guilt of the sin adds to the horror of the situation. The sin is also important to the story because it usually holds a clue to destroying the monster itself. Let’s figure out what we did wrong—fast—before we too succumb to the beast!

  But more important, the sin raises a poignant underlying question: Who’s the real monster here? It or us? It’s a question certainly explored in the classic novel Frankenstein as well as many other Monster in the House tales.

  The sin gives your story reason and meaning because it touches on the theme. Without it, what’s the point? What are you trying to say?

  There has to be a reason the monster is attacking this person, group, or society. What did these victims do to deserve the attack? What sin of humanity are they being punished for? Even if it’s not the hero themselves who is responsible, someone, somewhere along the way decided to open Pandora’s box and peek inside, and this story is the result.

  The sin is also usually how we can tell the difference between a Monster in the House and a Dude with a Problem, two genres that often get confused. The question to ask yourself is, Whose fault is this? If the answer is It’s our fault! or It’s the hero’s fault!, then you usually know you’re looking at a Monster in the House.

  Another popular (although not required) element that you’ll often see in Monster in the House tales is a character called the half man. This is usually a mentor-type character, a survivor who has gone to battle with the monster before. They have prior knowledge of its evil and have possibly even come away damaged (or maimed) on account of it. In The Deep, our hero, Luke, finds the journals of Dr. Westlake, a scientist who has already perished at the hands of the mysterious “ambrosia” substance. In the journals, Dr. Westlake’s ramblings grow more and more chaotic and insane, giving Luke a glimpse of what this terrifying substance can do.

  The half man character can be an effective way to get mythology and background exposition into your story without it feeling like you’re info dumping. This character is the literal embodiment of the threat the monster poses.

  You might notice that the half man character (if he’s still alive) will often die at the All Is Lost beat (where mentors often die), because in the end, the hero (or heroes) must face the monster alone. Killing off your mentor ups the stakes. Because once that help is gone, it’s time to stop fooling around and come up with an Act 3 plan. Lest the monster come for you next!

  To recap: If you’re thinking of writing a Monster in the House novel, make sure your story includes these three essential ingredients:

  A MONSTER: supernatural in its powers, ev
en if its strength derives from insanity—and evil at its core.

  A HOUSE: that is, an enclosed space, which could be a literal house, a family unit, an entire town, or the world.

  A SIN: meaning someone is guilty of bringing the monster into the house (or invading the monster’s territory)—a transgression that can include ignorance and often relates to the theme the hero must learn.

  Popular Monster in the House Novels Through Time:

  Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

  The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

  The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty

  The Shining by Stephen King

  Ghost Story by Peter Straub

  The Keep by F. Paul Wilson

  The Woman in Black by Susan Hill

  Pet Sematary by Stephen King

  Watchers by Dean Koontz

  The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

  Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

  Prey by Michael Crichton

  The Ruins by Scott Smith

  World War Z by Max Brooks

  Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill (beat sheet following)

  The Ritual by Adam Nevill

  Sweet by Emmy Laybourne

  Kalahari by Jessica Khoury

  The Deep by Nick Cutter

  A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay

  Heart-Shaped Box

  BY: Joe Hill

  STC GENRE: Monster in the House

  BOOK GENRE: Horror

  TOTAL PAGES: 374 (William Morrow Paperback, 2007)

  When aging rock star Judas Coyne buys a “ghost” from an online auction site, he gets much more than he bargained for after he discovers the ghost is irreversibly tied to him. This modern Monster in the House has chilled readers the world over, becoming a New York Times best seller and winning the coveted Bram Stoker award for Best First Novel (a prestigious award in the horror genre) and earning Joe Hill (who is also the author of Horns, which was adapted as a film starring Daniel Radcliffe) a permanent place in the Horror Hall of Fame.

  1. Opening Image (pages 1–8)

  When Jude Coyne’s assistant, Danny, asks Jude if he wants to buy a ghost off the internet, we’re immediately thrown into this chilling, supernatural world of Joe Hill’s creation. We learn quickly that Jude Coyne is a fifty-four-year-old, once-famous rock star living in upstate New York. He is still recognized everywhere but hasn’t toured or recorded an album in years. Jude likes to collect disturbing things, so this ghost for sale seems right up his alley. The ghost is allegedly tied to a dead man’s funeral suit that someone is selling on an online auction site. Jude chooses the equivalent of the “Buy Now” button, and click! Our Monster in the House tale begins.

  2. Setup (pages 9–26)

  The suit is delivered in a, you guessed it, heart-shaped box. As we wait for the ghost to make its first appearance, Joe Hill tells us more about his hero, Jude Coyne, and his world, showing us how deeply flawed Jude is in all aspects of his life.

  On the family front (home), Jude hasn’t spoken to his father in years, and we catch hints of an abusive past (shard of glass). His father is on his deathbed, and Jude essentially tells the nurse he doesn’t care if his father lives or dies.

  On the job front (work), again, Jude doesn’t record or tour anymore. He lost two of his band mates (one to a car accident and one to AIDS), and he hasn’t really gotten over it.

  And on the relationship front (play), it seems Jude collects not only disturbing occult items but also goth girlfriends. He’s had a string of them. But he never lets himself get too close, which is why he never calls them by their real name, but rather by the state they’re from. His current live-in girlfriend is Georgia (aka Marybeth), a former stripper, and before her there was Florida (Anna), whom Jude kicked out when her depression became too much for Jude to handle.

  Right away, we get the sense that Jude is insensitive, emotionally cut off (especially when it comes to women), and haunted by his past.

  Before the big Catalyst comes and sets this adventure in motion, Joe Hill sets off mini Catalysts, letting us know that major change is coming soon. First, when the suit arrives, Georgia is pricked by what she thinks is a pin in it, but when Jude inspects the suit, he finds no pins. Next, Jude hears the radio playing in Danny’s office, even though he knows the radio wasn’t on in there before. When he goes to investigate, there’s a strange voice on the radio saying creepy things like “The dead pull the living down” (page 19).

  3. Theme Stated (page 26)

  The puncture wound on Georgia’s finger is looking bad (another mini Catalyst). But when Jude flippantly tells her to “Put something on that” because “there’s less work for pole dancers with visible disfigurements” (page 26), Georgia lashes out at him. She says sarcastically, “You’re a sympathetic son of a bitch, you know that?” To which Jude replies, “You want sympathy, go f*ck James Taylor.”

  Jude’s blatant insensitivity to Georgia and his deeper-rooted inability to love will be revealed to be not only the reason the monster is in the house, but also the crucial flaw Jude must overcome by the end of the novel.

  4. Catalyst (pages 27–30)

  A noise wakes Jude; he thinks one of his two dogs (Angus and Bon) is in the house. But when he looks out the window, he sees them both in their pen. He ventures out into the hall, where he spots an old man sitting in an antique Shaker chair, wearing the suit that came in the heart-shaped box.

  5. Debate (pages 31–69)

  Like many stories that feature a brush with the supernatural, the question of this Debate is: Was it real? Is there really a ghost in Jude’s house? Did he really buy a spirit off the internet? And if it is real, how does this supernatural magic work? To get answers, Jude tells Danny to track down the woman who sold him the ghost. Danny gets Jessica Price on the phone; she soon reveals that she’s the sister of Jude’s last girlfriend, Florida (aka Anna). Jessica explains that their stepfather, the ghost, blames Jude for Anna’s death (she slit her wrists in the bathtub, apparently after Jude kicked her out of his house), and her stepfather is now haunting Jude seeking revenge. (It turns out Jessica purposefully targeted Jude online to make sure he was the one who bought the suit.) Jude vows to send the suit back to Jessica, assuming that the ghost is attached to it, but Jessica claims that it won’t make her stepfather go away. She hints at the “house” (enclosed location) of this Monster in the House when she says, “Wherever you go, he’ll be right there” (page 36). It seems the ghost is attached not to the suit but rather to Jude, and it won’t stop until Jude is dead.

  Jude then goes into research mode, trying to get to the bottom of this ghost business and the claim that Anna killed herself because of him. He tells Danny to dig up all the old letters Anna sent him after he kicked her out, and he starts reading old books about the occult. Georgia tells him to get rid of the suit because it smells bad, but Jude isn’t convinced that will do anything.

  Meanwhile, Georgia’s wound is getting badly infected, and Jude keeps catching more glimpses of the ghost; he notices the ghost has black scribbles on his face where his eyes should be and holds a gold chain with a razor blade dangling from it—like a pendulum.

  The ghost is becoming an increasing problem, and Jude is going to have to do something about it.

  6. Break Into 2 (pages 70–72)

  Jude finally decides to investigate the ghost. He does a web search for Anna’s stepfather, uncovering an obituary for Craddock McDermott. The picture is of a younger version of the man he saw in the hallway. Jude discovers that Craddock was a skilled hypnotist.

  Then a new email appears in his inbox. It’s from Craddock. It’s long and rambling, claiming that Jude will die. Jude smashes the computer.

  7. Fun and Games (pages 72–165)

  Joe Hill promises a ghostly adventure with this premise, and he deli
vers. The upside-down world for Jude and the creepy “fun” for us, the readers, is Jude’s life with Craddock’s ghost. As the day goes on, the threat of this ghost in Jude’s life grows more and more dangerous. Georgia finds Jude in the closed barn with his car’s motor running. She thinks he was trying to kill himself, but he swears he never started the engine. It must have been Craddock. After restless, disturbing dreams, Jude decides to sell the suit, only to find that Georgia burned it. Yet the ghost is still there.

  The downward path continues when it’s discovered that Craddock, as a hypnotist, seems to be able to persuade people to do things by listening to the sound of his voice. He persuades Jude’s assistant, Danny, to hang himself, and he nearly convinces Georgia to shoot herself. Then he tries to hypnotize Jude to kill Georgia himself. Jude is able to stop himself just in time by cutting his palm and focusing on the pain.

  Meanwhile, we get more information about Jude’s relationship with his father. He was very abusive to Jude and his mother. One time he slammed Jude’s chord-making hand in the door, hindering his ability to play the guitar.

  As Craddock pursues him, Jude makes an important discovery about his dogs. Because they are “familiars” to him, they can help protect him against the ghost. The dogs’ shadows are able to hold Craddock back.

  Soon after that, Jude decides it’s time for him, Georgia, and the dogs to leave. He wants to drive south to Florida to visit Jessica Price, the woman who sold him the suit/ghost.

  8. B Story (page 78)

  The B Story character of this novel is Anna McDermott, the ex-girlfriend whom Jude cast aside nine months ago and the stepdaughter of the ghost. Not only does she represent the theme (Jude’s insensitivity and inability to love), because her gruesome fate was a direct result of his flaws, but she will eventually help Jude and Georgia chase the ghost of her stepfather away.

  Although Anna is mentioned prior to this, page 78 is when we start to learn more about Anna through Jude’s memories. He tells us about their relationship and how good it was at one point. Anna will continue to make more frequent appearances throughout the novel (first in memories, dreams, and flashbacks, and then as a ghost) as her role in Jude’s transformation builds. We soon start to realize that Jude did love Anna; his flaws just kept him from showing it or acting on it, thus landing him in his current position.