Janelle Monáe, HalloQueen

Janelle Monáe wants to make it clear: before anything else, she builds worlds. From her cinematic and revolutionary 2010 concept album The ArchAndroid to her new role as the “HalloQueen,” the 39-year-old is on a lifelong mission to live every moment as if she were in a movie. Or a stage play. Or a slasher film.

“Quote me on this,” she insists. “I want to play all fucking day.” Since bursting onto the scene in the late 2000s, Monáe has played many roles: android, sex bot, understudy, academic, prodigy (don’t forget that she was heavily mentored by Prince). And if it all seems maybe a little too theatre kid, that’s okay. The singer wants everyone to be in on the magic.

“I know I’m odd,” she tells PAPER. “I know I’m weird. And I love that. I love it in others, too. I want people to feel seen… like they’re not alone in loving science fiction, horror, and cosplay.”

For this month’s cover, Monáe channels that energy literally: a vampire on vacation. Shot on a sandy set strewn with beach chairs and fake blood, she lounges under a “No Vampires on Beach” sign with a crimson drink in hand. It’s part horror, part fashion fantasy. The shoot serves as a preview for Wondaween, an inaugural Halloween festival on October 30th in Los Angeles curated by Monáe and her wonderfully weird crew of creatures. Like, imagine this if a vampire wasn’t allergic to the sun. That’s what she was going for here.

Like every Monáe era before it, Wondaween blurs art and life. The event spans film screenings, game nights, live performances, and even Monáe Manor, her haunted house installation at the L.A. Haunted Hayride. There’s also a new card game (KBÕM), a Cinespia-style movie night (The Archive Bites Back), and a USC masterclass with M3GAN screenwriter Akela Cooper. It’s all curated through Wondaland, the multidisciplinary arts collective Monáe founded to “build the worlds I want to exist in.”

“Halloween is a time to be creative and to honor spirits by transforming into them,” she says. “It’s a ritual of release.” And for Monáe — who’s already hosted over 650 hours of AMC’s FearFest as the network’s HalloQueen and will perform as Sally in The Nightmare Before Christmas at the Hollywood Bowl — the season feels spiritual. She calls it a reminder to “give ourselves permission to play, to be free, to create beyond our everyday selves.”

That sense of liberation defines her entire career. Monáe’s worlds, from the android Cindi Mayweather to the pleasure-soaked utopia of The Age of Pleasure (2023), have always centered on transformation. Now, she’s bringing that to real life. “When they look around and see everyone in costume smiling and dancing,” she says, “I want people to feel like they belong.”

If Mariah Carey is the Queen of Christmas, then Monáe is Halloween’s reigning monarch — the vampiric visionary who made the undead sexy again. “When people think of Halloween,” she says with a grin, “I want them to think of Janelle Monáe. Period.”

I’ve been a lifelong fan — since the “57821” days. You’ve always been such a world builder, from the Metropolis and ArchAndroid days to now. What’s the storyline of your life these days?

First, I want to say, thank you so much for knowing my work. It’s funny, we were just having conversations about “57821”! When I think about my first albums — The ArchAndroid, Metropolis — that’s where a lot of people entered my world. I’ve always loved building worlds. That’s a constant with me: What kind of world am I building right now? Even as a kid in Kansas, I was writing short stories and creating original characters for the Young Playwrights’ Coterie Theatre in Kansas City. I’d dream of writing my own play or musical — and that’s what led me to create The ArchAndroid, The Electric Lady, Dirty Computer, and The Age of Pleasure. My calling is to build the worlds I want to exist in and build community within them. Right now, all those worlds are colliding through my Halloween Arts Festival.

Wondaween!

Yes. Wondaween, from the Wondaland Arts Society. It spans every medium: TV, film, music, fashion, visual art, and gaming. It’s a month-long celebration that creates community for people who love the strange, the spectacular, the peculiar. I’ve always tried to start with community first. When I began in the industry, I told my team I didn’t need a number-one hit or millions of fans. I just needed 500 people who understood what I was doing — who loved sci-fi, Afrofuturism, who believed in Cindy Mayweather as a symbol of hope and freedom for marginalized people. The android represents “the other.” If I could get 500 people to believe in that, I knew there were others like me — people who want alternatives, who want to enter new worlds, who want to cosplay those characters. That’s the same spirit behind this festival. We’re building community around the most creative time of year: Halloween, a season of transformation. People give themselves permission to become anything, to express themselves more freely, and that’s what I want to celebrate: giving people permission to play, to be creative beyond their everyday selves.

The whole concept of Cindi Mayweather and the android as “the other” is so timeless, especially with everything happening in the world right now. So Wondaween is an actual festival in real life?

Yes, it’s all happening in Los Angeles. When you think about how people build community now, it’s usually through screens. I wanted to promote real-life connection. We have a lineup of experiences — some free, some RSVP-only — and the biggest is the Wondaween Music Festival, happening October 30. The theme is Vampire Beach.

Like if a vampire wasn’t allergic to the sun.

Exactly! I thought, how ironic would it be if vampires could have a beach day? Fans can reimagine their favorite vampire — from The Lost Boys to Blade to Vampire in Brooklyn — or create their own. We’re letting 1,000 lucky fans experience Vampire Beach with DJ sets, costumes, and world-building moments. It’s totally free for the first year because we want people to experience it without worrying about money. You can sign up at Wondaween.com.

What draws you to Halloween specifically? What were your go-to costumes as a kid?

Growing up, my mom bought me a Chucky mask from Spencer’s, and I’d sleep in it. I wore it to school to scare people! I loved seeing my working parents — who’d get up early, put on uniforms, and serve the community — suddenly transform. When teachers or adults let their hair down, dressed as witches or monsters, they became playful. That’s when I loved being around them most. It made me realize: people are so much more fun when they allow themselves to transform. That never left me. I’m a theater kid, a musical lover, a cinema lover — I want life to feel like a movie, like we’re staging our own play. Halloween gives people permission to do that. It’s a time to tap back into creativity. I’ve never lost that mischievous inner child who wants to play and meet other peculiar people around the world. That’s what I’m creating with this festival — a community for world builders and dreamers. I’ve gone to Blurred Con, I’ll be at Comic-Con, I have a graphic novel. It’s all connected. I’ve never just made songs; I’ve always built worlds. Wondaween is about giving others the space to do the same.

What’s your favorite horror movie?

I have so many! I’m in my second year as the HalloQueen for AMC’s FearFest, and I’ve helped program over 650 hours of horror films and psychological thrillers. Some of my favorites are A Nightmare on Elm Street, Carrie, The Birds, Psycho, Misery, Candyman, and The Shining. I could go on forever. What are yours?

I have a top three from my childhood that really stuck with me. I would say It Follows (2014).

Ooh, that’s a great one. I’ve seen that one.

And I just rewatched the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974).

Crazy.

That one’s crazy. And The Grudge always stuck with me. I remember actually being scared to go home from the movies when I saw that as a kid.

Yeah. No, it scared the shit out of me. Stephen King’s It definitely traumatized me. Pennywise scared the life out of me and my cousins — to this day, I can’t walk past a gutter without thinking he’s down there waiting to snatch me. Movies that involve kids in horror, like A Nightmare on Elm Street and It, really stick with me. But I also want to act in films like that — not to snatch kids in real life, of course! But to play those kinds of characters that haunt people long after they’ve seen the movie. The ones you can’t unsee. Even now, if I go to sleep, part of me still thinks Freddy Krueger might show up in my dreams.

Growing up, my cousins, my sister, and I would play outside all day, then watch scary movies together. My aunt — who was super religious but always celebrated Halloween — was the one who encouraged that. She let us watch horror films, even gave me a script recently about a serial killer. I have to really give it to her. She taught me not to run from my fears. Instead, she’d say, “This is just a movie. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Is there a spiritual side to Halloween for you?

For me, Halloween is a time to be creative and to honor spirits by transforming into them. It’s a ritual of release. We all need more creativity in our lives and more support for the arts. I want kids who love makeup, prosthetics, or special effects to know there’s a real path and community for them. That’s why I started Wondaween and why I curate every event myself. I came up with Vampire Beach with my Wondaland Arts Society — the same collective that’s been behind all my music since Metropolis and The ArchAndroid. We began as a community of writers, producers, storytellers, and visual artists. Now we’ve expanded into film and TV through Wondaland Pictures.

One of the projects I’m developing with Akela Cooper is a Medusa story called Don’t Look. Akela’s brilliant — she wrote M3GAN and The Nun — and we’re doing a live talk together at USC called “The Brain Behind the Blood” on October 20. It’s about demystifying the craft for students who want to work in sound design, prosthetics, writing, or directing horror. I’m also interviewing Danny Elfman, who’s essential to every Tim Burton movie — his music is inseparable from Tim’s worlds. We’re talking about scoring for character-driven films. And my costume team, Sasha Glasser and Alex Navarro, will join me in conversation about costume design and transformation. All of this shows that there’s a community and career path in these creative spaces.

We also hosted a movie night called “The Archive Bites Back,” where we screened Wes Craven’s The People Under the Stairs. It’s one of my favorites — terrifying but full of social commentary. It’s about marginalized communities banding together, whether human or otherwise. Each year, “The Archive Bites Back” will spotlight a film like that. It’s free; fans just RSVP at Wondaween.com.

And then there’s Wondaween Game Night. We created our own card game called Kboom — spelled K-B-O with an accent over the O. We’ve been doing these themed game nights for a few years, and this time it was a ’70s retro theme. Everyone came in costume, we played, and we talked a little shit. It’s about putting the phone down and connecting with people in real life. It’s what Wondaland has always been about.

If your discography were a haunted house — each room representing a different project — which would you want to revisit, and which would you leave locked?

That’s such a good question! I actually have a real haunted house right now — Monáe Manor at the LA Haunted Hayride. It’s Halloween every night there. The experience includes sounds and music from Metropolis, with an original score Nate Wonder and I created inspired by “Many Moons.” Once you enter, you can’t leave until the story’s over — there are jump scares, characters, everything. I’ve even popped up in disguise to scare people myself! It’s been so much fun to take over the Haunted Hayride for a second year.

In terms of my music, I’ve always tried to establish that there’s nothing musically I can’t do. Whether people love or hate it, that’s up to them — it depends on where they are in life and how they receive it. It took me a while to accept that not everyone will get what I do, and that’s okay. The only times I’ve felt frustrated creatively were when I was afraid … afraid to experiment, afraid to be free.

You were “So Afraid.”

Exactly. I’ve definitely created from fear before, especially around The Electric Lady era. But now, I try to honor every version of myself. Every album deserves its own room; none of them should be locked away. My goal has always been to reach for the most liberated version of me, to give myself permission rather than wait for it from others. If I’ve done that — if I’ve honored myself in that moment — then that’s success.

Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever seen one?

I feel like I’m always in communication with the paranormal. Even as a futurist, my work is rooted in both the past and the future. I get downloads from my ancestors and from what’s to come. When you look at The ArchAndroid, that was me channeling ideas about technology, identity, and humanity that we’re only now fully living through. Back then I was reading Isaac Asimov, studying Metropolis, and thinking about “the other” and where technology was heading — and here we are. I’ve been receiving those “downloads from the future” for a long time. The singularity I sang about is happening faster than even Ray Kurzweil predicted. It’s surreal. But I think that’s my purpose: to be a bridge between the worlds of spirit, science, and sound. My ancestors will be like, “Janelle, we need you to tell this story.” Thank God for music — it’s my channel, the way I process all those messages from the past and future.

And if someone wanted to dress as Cindi Mayweather for Halloween in 2025, what would that look like?

You could absolutely do The ArchAndroid look. It’s timeless. At Blurred Con, when I released my limited-run ArchAndroid graphic novel —only 800 copies —people were already dressed as Cindi. That character and costume speak to the past, present, and future all at once. It’s the perfect Halloween transformation.

How do you want people to feel after spending a night in Wondaween?

I want people to feel seen. When they look around and see everyone in costume smiling and dancing, I want them to feel like they belong. Like they’re not alone in loving science fiction, horror, and cosplay. There’s something so powerful about gathering with strangers who become friends, even family, through creativity. I want people to leave saying, “Every year I go to Wondaween, I make new friends.” Maybe someone meets their partner there, maybe they end up with Wondaween babies! This isn’t just about one night. I want the spirit of Wondaween to live on and inspire people to create their own communities, their own traditions. Whether that’s hosting their own game nights, movie nights, or themed beach parties, whatever it is, I want people to feel hope, inspiration, and connection. Wondaween represents everything Wondaland stands for: imagination, community, and boundary-pushing art. I want this to outlive me. My goal is to make Wondaween the ultimate Halloween destination — a space that feels joyful, sustainable, and globally recognized.

If Mariah Carey is the Queen of Christmas, does that make you the Queen of Halloween?

Absolutely. That’s literally what I told my team. And you can quote me on that. When people think of Mariah Carey, they think of Christmas. When they think of Christmas, they think of Mariah. I want people to think of Halloween and immediately think of Janelle Monáe. Period.

I’m already picturing a Wondaland amusement park, a roller coaster. I’m seeing the vision heavy.

Please come! Are you in LA?

I’m in New York. I’ll have to fly in.

Do it! So, what are you going to be for Halloween?

I have a banana costume I always pull out.

Cute! You could also go as Cindi Mayweather or even Cindi Mayweather meets Sir Greendown [the mythological male love interest from The ArchAndroid]. I’d love to see that. The Halloween spirit has always been in me. It gives context to something that’s always been there. I’ve always loved creating characters. This is the season when those characters come to life.

You were saying you wanted the PAPER cover creative to tie into the Wondaween world.

Exactly. Because I’m doing this big music festival, Vampire Beach, I wanted the PAPER shoot to align with that theme. Everyone has their own version of a vampire, right? So I thought it’d be fun to create an original one — a fashionable, sensual, confident vampire who goes to the beach. She’s bold, a little mischievous, and everyone wants to be bitten by her. I ask myself, Is this a movie I’d want to watch? If the answer’s no, then it’s not a good costume or character. But this vampire? She’s the one I want to see on screen.

She flips the Dracula mythos on its head — she’s the one Dracula gave everything to, and people resent her for it. She’s independent, powerful, and she becomes the first vampire to integrate the beach — a place where no vampires were ever allowed. I love exploring that tension: Who is she? What does she desire? How does she seduce, disarm, and command? For me, Halloween always activates my writer’s mind. Every year, I create these characters like they’re living in their own film universe.

One year, I was The Grinch’s daughter — like if Jim Carrey’s Grinch found out he had an illegitimate child who lives in the desert, waters a prickly cactus every morning, drinks coffee, and has inherited just enough chaos from her dad. Another year, I was E.T., but forty years later. I gave him a little gut; he’s been eating, watching movies, vibing — just living his best retired alien life. And I was the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland once, but reimagined as a psychedelic dealer, offering trips down the rabbit hole.

These characters always start as questions: Who are they now? What world do they live in? That process feeds my film and TV brain. It’s all storytelling, just in costume form.

If you could cast one spell on the world right now, what would it be?

I’d send all the devils in disguise back to hell. Anyone spreading division, chaos, or destruction — I’d send them somewhere else. I want peace, harmony, and love. I want us to finally get to the place our future ancestors dreamed of. A world where we love our neighbors as ourselves. That’s the world I’m trying to build through Wondaween and through everything I create.

You’ve completely inspired me. I might have to fly out for Vampire Beach.

Please do! You get it. And that’s what Wondaween is about. It’s for the spirits who understand the joy of world-building, costume-making, and creating something meaningful. It’s about community, real-life connection, and the art of play. Quote me on this: I want to play all fucking day. That’s what the festival is about — never losing that inner child, that mischievous spark that makes you want to dress up and imagine. I know I’m odd, I know I’m weird. And I love that. I love it in others, too. When I see someone who’s delightfully strange or “oddly arousing,” I love that. I want to be that energy, and I want to give others the space to embrace it, too.

Such Sagittarius energy.

Exactly! I’m leaning into it more than ever and owning it all and creating the community that reflects it back. That’s what Wondaween represents: a space for the dreamers, the outsiders, the world-builders — all of us who just want to play.