Creeping out the boggy marshes
Gurgling its cries of death
See its eyes a glowing
See its fangs and feel its breath
Its hair is made of algae
It’s skin as slimy as a frog
See it creeping towards you
The monster of the bog
Though you are paralysed in fear
Though your heart tells you to flee
Though your chest is thumping hard
You can only stand and see
Death creeping closer to you and me
A little sigh of triumph comes from its muddy lips
It touches your legs so softly with its iron fingertips
Its grip gets tighter and tighter
Your voice makes desperate calls
But it’s too late it has you
And into the bog you’re pulled
Though the monster has spared your friend
The spell is broken down
Your friend runs towards the bog to save you
But they’re too late, you’ve drowned
Their cries are heard throughout the night
The monster has taken your life
Your friend sits at the bank of the bog mourning
Stabs at the bog with his knife
But they don’t find the monster in there
It has gone to the deeper depths of Hell
It has gone down there as soon as it had got you
And taken you as well
Your friend he threw himself into madness
No one believed his story
No one ever will, you know
The ending was far too gory
Instead they locked him up and away
Never to see the light of day
And always it is this way
With the monster of the bog
And now this story is said and done
And now you will carry on with your life
As though this story was never true
And of course, you don’t believe in after life
But his ghost is watching from that bog
To ward off others just like you
Keep away from this monster’s bog
Because the stories of course are true
Tag Archives: monster
Creeping out the boggy marshes
I needed a pep talk on the NaNoWriMo website tonight, because I have never written thousands of words down towards a novel without revising each paragraph for weeks at a time. I am not used to word vomit. But I am doing that with NaNoWriMo because the motto there is to ‘just write’ and that’s what I am doing and I am finding that my story is unemotional and non-descriptive and generally trashy I have to say. But, fellow Nanos told me, it’s meant to be like that initially, you’re just piecing things together, it’s not meant to be perfect first hand. It’s supposed to be a little more than planning stage, it’s still part of the planning, and it doesn’t start to look like the story until draft two or three or four.
So this got me thinking. I started to think that you know what? If they are right and professionals do write like this on a consistent basis then a novel is like Frankenstein’s monster. You get an arm, a leg, a hand, etc. and you sew it all together and then with each new draft you make after NaNoWriMo you are trying to find the secrets to life, eventually you will get to the grand finale, you will get that lightning bolt of life you need for your monster, the story and he shall come alive! I hope my monster comes alive by the end of this anyway!
Good Luck to all who are doing NaNoWriMo this year!
Troll Bridge by Neil Gaiman
Reading about trolls since childhood has always made me a little nervous, because of the childhood nightmares I had about bridges and what lived under them – this story was read with reluctance, but I am proud that I read it because it was a wonderful tale.
I loved the twist of why the troll existed and how it is trapped in its magical world and had literally little choice in devouring lone stray children nearby its lair and how it can be freed if he found someone willing to help him – little would be willing to help him so they usually succumbed to a terrifying fate.
I love worlds like this, where monsters aren’t really as monstrous as they seem, that they too have lived through something terrifying and aren’t what they seem. Though it is easy to sympathise with the troll in this story it is still a terrifying creature nonetheless.
My son Henry, is definitely my inspiration for some of my work. When I mishear him, he gives me concoctions I can cook up for my fantasy worlds, and silly things for short stories such as saying there’s a duck under his bed, but it turned out to be a little monster toy. I say, no it’s not a duck it’s a monster look, but he insists it’s a duck. Most mothers have the opposite problem, they see a duck under the bed but is trying to convince their child it’s not a monster, this family of mine is truly weird.