Why Super 8 Works

Director J. J. Abrams and producer Steven Spielberg have created a masterpiece with Super 8. This creative film is right on so many levels, it could be the basis for a book on film making and storytelling. Let’s consider one aspect of the film – storytelling.

When I began writing fiction, my favorite authors were the classic writers like Charles Dickens and Mark Twain. My dream was to write “the great American novel” and to become the next Hemingway or Steinbeck. Funny thing happened along the way. Turns out I write suspense stories or speculative fiction, like my short story Angel Thorns. I cross the bounds of mystery, suspense, sci-fi and horror. Suspense or thriller is the main focus of my work, just as Super 8 focuses mainly on horror but has elements of sci-fi and suspense.

A horror story is a type of suspense or thriller in that it seeks to put you on the edge of your seat by scaring you and making you ask "what's next?" Most thrillers divide the plot into two parts. Part one takes about one-third of the story and involves discovery. It’s about learning what kind of monster is on the loose. It answers the question: “What is it?” Or “What’s going on?”

The monster, once discovered, may be traditional such as a vampire, werewolf or space alien. (In Super 8, it’s a space alien.) The monster could be a demon or a demonic person such as a serial killer. It could be another kind of monster – a spy ring or terrorist organization bent on world domination or global destruction. This latter kind of thriller is the stuff of the spy or political thrillers. In the mystery thriller, the focus is on "what will happen next" as opposed to the traditional mystery story where the focus is on an action that happened in the past as the hero tries to figure out "whodunit?" Not knowing where the story is headed is the basis of the "thrill" or "suspense."

The second part of a thriller takes about two-thirds of the story. Call it the “Let’s kill it” section. Now that we know we are dealing with a vampire or serial killer or a space alien, as in Super 8, our heroes go about the business of destroying the monster. In my short story Angel Thorns, I play this section in an unusual way in that the people do not destroy the monster. Instead… well, I’ll just let you read it to find out. Point here is the good stories give you a little spin on the genre.

Skip this paragraph if you haven’t seen the movie yet. Super 8 represents a variation of the story in which you don’t actually kill the monster. Instead, you set it free because, after all, it’s not really a monster. It only looks like a monster and acts like a monster. It’s a misunderstood, abused, innocent, child-killing space traveler (Super 8) or a 75-year-old "teenage" vampire with a wall full of high school diplomas (Twilight).

Children: Connecting the Super 8 Dots to Angel Thorns
I started this blog post by saying that I began writing fiction with one intention and discovered I belonged somewhere else. Instead of writing “literary fiction” (whatever that is), I find my stories landing in the suspense or thriller genre. The other unintended thing about my storytelling that should resonate with Super 8 fans is I invariably end up with a child or teenage hero. There’s something about the monster story that works exceedingly well when viewed through the eyes of a child or teenager.

What literary types call a “willing suspension of disbelief” is much easier to achieve through the filter of an innocent mind. But if the story is only about the monster, than you can skip the child and view it through an adult lens. What the child brings to the story, in addition to the innocent filter, is the innocence-to-maturity theme. You cannot experience the monster and remain the same.

So in Super 8, the children are changed forever. One boy discovers love. One girl discovers love. Another boy discovers unrequited love. And one boy discovers that if you go around blowing things up, there are consequences. I’m simplifying here. Super 8 delivers more than a love story filled with teenage angst, albeit young teens. Watch the relationships of Joe and Alice with their fathers, for example. Nothing remains the same in the story.

Innocence to experience has been the main current in American literature from day one. And it works so well in Super 8 that we almost miss the monster until the creature leaps off the screen, grabs you by the throat, and makes you pay attention. “Hey, don’t forget about me,” the monster shouts.

Why does Super 8 Work?
From a storytelling standpoint, it stays true to its marketing niche, the horror genre, while mixing in elements of sci-fi and traditional thriller. It filters the story through the innocent eyes of youth. It plays the monster in the background of a larger innocence-to-maturity story that is the hallmark of American story telling whether it’s a novel like Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, a short story like my Angel Thorns, or a movie like Super 8.

As I said, it would take a book to dive into the vast onion layers of Super 8. If you haven’t seen it yet, go. Enjoy. And if you have time, check out my short story (4,700 words) Angel Thorns.

Irish Vampires

What happens when the wee people turn into vampires? Another Scary Suspense Theater presentation. Don't watch this at night or when you're alone. Keep the garlic handy.

What's in Your Package?

What could be in a box four feet on the sides and six feet high? What did I order and forget about? And how could I forget something that big?

Oh, of course, Hazel probably ordered something. She’s always ordering stuff we don’t need. Hey, maybe it’s that TV for the bedroom, the one with the six foot screen. Okay, maybe five foot screen. The box is only six feet and I have to allow for the packaging. But why so fat? Maybe two or three TVs? A TV and computer and… and… and… I don’t know. Electronics for the spare bedroom?

Where is Hazel anyway? She should have been home an hour ago. More importantly, where’s that box knife? Hunting knife will do. In the kitchen drawer. No, not in the drawer. Where did I leave my hunting knife? Wait, there’s a machete in the garage. Next to the tool box. Not here. On the shelf. No. In a drawer? No.

Okay, Will, where did you leave your sharp weapons? Oh, yeah, I worked on that brush clearing project this morning. Funny how I forgot about that already.

And where is Hazel?

The knives and machete… and oh yeah, the axe… they should be in the trunk of the car along with… with… something I can’t remember. Oh crap, I locked the door to the family room from the garage and the car is out in the driveway. I think I left it out there.

Not to worry. I have my trusty ol’ keys right here… Oh no, they’re in the bedroom. No, I think. Yes. I put them down when I unloaded… what was it I unloaded from the trunk out in the woods this morning? Bloody mess as I recall.

And where the blazes is Hazel?

How am I going to open the door to the family room? Oh. Duh. Maybe I’ll just push this button and open the outside garage door. Funny I didn’t think of that sooner.

Bluejeans and Straw

No matter how much you dress the scarecrow, there’s still nothing to him. He has no brain, no matter how finely dressed. Who is in charge of your brain… and your heart? The tin woodsman, heartless and rusting away? Oz, the fake and powerless? Dorothy, the lost and helpless? The wicked witch, powerful until someone rains on her parade? The good witch, never around when you need her? The flying monkeys, loyal until someone else comes around? Or…

Dust, Ashes and Old Memories

Have you ever taken a sickle and cut a path through a dense undergrowth of tall weeds, thorn bushes and clinging vines? You can't do it without picking up a few scratches along with some mosquito and spider bites. You also can expect an occasional run in with a poisonous snake. I’ve been a swinger of sickles and it bears a striking resemblance to the work of a fiction writer.

The writer of fiction enjoys exploring the nature of relationships and creating characters out of the dust and ashes of old memories and finding paths through the tangled jungle of the inner self. Who knows where the path leads when we are the creators of the path? Who knows what characters lurk in the darkness waiting for the writer to shine the light of creativity upon them. Better dress for the occasion when you go delving into the secret places of the heart. This is such a place. Welcome!

Oh no! Another Writing Exercise

The first sentence was given. Write three minutes. What did you write? Share your results in the comments section. Or send it to me for posting later. My result…

Their father was one of the landed gentry in a land without gentry. Without fertile land for that matter. What need of land on a rock being mined for its nickel and small quantities of precious metals? Food you import from the bases on the south side of the moon. Landed gentry, hah. Most of them were women and they were company men, or women, as the case may be. Mine supervisors. But we called them landed gentry because they landed first. And they got to take off first at the end of the three-year shift, which now has a mere 13 months, 3 weeks and two days to go. Zelda Zilroy was of the landed gentry. She owned the land I mined with Zorkgrack, my botdrill. Of the two I preferred Zelda, but she was the bossier of the two. Zorkgrack was the better cook. But Zorkgrack in bed is just something I don’t want to think about, especially with Zelda leaning over my shoulder right now.

Road Ends

Who knows why the road ends here? And whatever happened to old Naperville? Folks in these parts know the answer but they'll never tell. Men in black suits come around and then folks go missing. But we're not afraid. This video tells all.