I can trace my love of horror literature back to the early 80s and a book I picked up at my local library when I was 11 years old. My recollection of author and title is vague (I think it's Kenneth Ireland's The Werewolf Mask) but it featured a boy delivering a letter to a sinister chap named Luke Anthrope.
The man's name played on the boy's mind as he entered the stranger's house, and mine too – I think this was where I first discovered "lycanthropes", to give werewolves their proper name. The chills have stayed with me ever since.
Ahead of vampires and zombies, werewolves were always my favourite "classic monster", from the old Chaney Wolfman through to modern, adult fare such as Thriller, The Howling and An American Werewolf – I think it's the transformation from man into beast that grips an audience (thank you Rick Baker for ensuring my nightmares were always as vivid as possible). You can't fight the curse; when the full moon rises you're in for a rollercoaster ride of horror, featuring more teeth, hair and howls than a Bee Gees gig.
More typically and notoriously found in adult horror, the recent rise of werewolves in children's literature has been quite spectacular, the furry fiends popping up in everything from Harry Potter to Twilight as they pluck at our primeval fear of fang and claw. Joss Whedon's inspired Buffy the Vampire Slayer really opened the coffin lid when it came to mixing kooky comedy, teenage trauma and vile villains, paving the way for many of the successful fantasy and "dark romance" series that exist today.
Predating these came the wolves that I grew up with, Tolkien's intelligent, demonic Wargs that were allied to the Orcs. But even then the good professor had sought his own inspiration from further back, taking his own beats from the "vargrs" of Norse mythology.
Although not strictly speaking lycanthropes, the wolves of the Brothers Grimm are often a child's first introduction to the wolf as villain. I grew up adoring these fables, thrilled by stories from a time when children were scared rather than soothed to sleep. Be scared of the dark places – that's what the Grimm's cautionary tales warned children. The wolf was always of the Big Bad variety, there to waylay innocent travellers, a trickster and killer. Fear is such a powerful emotion; when used in storytelling it's a very healthy one too, reminding a reader or listener that he or she is alive! It's no surprise the poor wolves have had such bad press down the years on account of the writings of Jacob and Wilhelm.
Legends and myths abound surrounding werewolves, each one a variant on the same universal theme and fascinating to read about; the French Beast of Gevaudan, the native American skin-walkers; the Russian Wawkalak. Every culture has its werecreature myth, and each one continues to inspire authors the world over.
My own werewolf in my Wereworld series of books is a different beast to those mentioned, a reluctant hero in a tale that straddles the genres of fantasy and horror. I've added to the myth's melting pot by creating many other "therianthropes", including tyrannical Werelions, scheming Wererats and noble Werebears. Ultimately, though, even with such a smorgasbord of shapeshifting superhumans to choose from, it's always going to be the old school Werewolf that we, the audience, end up rooting for. I wouldn't have it any other way.
• Curtis Jobling's Wereworld: Rage of Lions is the sequel to the first in the series, Wereworld: Rise of the Wolf
