Action Scenes

Action scenes often require the writer to physically duplicate what she writes on the page. In this case, rethinking that last move might be a good idea.

It's all better with friends.

Action Scenes

Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers sponsored a presentation last Saturday by Ian Thomas Healy.




There are a lot of elements to writing a compelling action scene, but here are a couple to consider:

Building Blocks of an Action Scene

An action scene is a series of stunts. When you're writing, consider each stunt as a single camera shot.

The engagement in an action scene is when multiple stunts take the reader to a plot point.

And finally, the sequence occurs when multiple engagements lead to a major conflict resolution.

A sequence has more than one type of action scene. (fight, shoot out, chase, battle)


And finally, remember learning that short sentences increase the tension and speed in an action scene? If you're like me, you've read some action scenes that read like a To Do List. Short and choppy. Yuck. Glad they weren't mine. *wink* I was glad to hear some corroboration of something I've felt for some time.

Readers will read a longer compound sentence faster than they will read a short sentence. That pesky little period at the end does what it's supposed to do—it stops them. So . . . when you're looking for speed, write longer, compound sentences. When you want to make sure your reader gets a particular detail, write short. A blend is always best, in my opinion.

For the full presentation, with detail, visit Ian's website (different from the blog linked above).


CR: The Four Last Things by Timothy Hallinan.

It's all better with friends.

Timothy Hallinan's Poke Rafferty Series

I finished Timothy Hallinan's The Queen of Patpong this morning. Well, twice this morning.

Forced to stop reading a little after 1 a.m. because my vision was going wonky (I'm usually lights-out by 11 at the latest) I got up this morning, pushed the button for my French Roast and continued until the end.

For those reading this series (and everyone should), here's my tip for Queen: Do not read chapter 19 thinking you'll go to sleep afterward. Ain't gonna happen.

But there's more from a writer's view. It is totally interfering with my own work at this point. Until I get it out of my system (thank goodness for blogs) it's in the way. I try to focus on the story I'm writing (which I totally adore, and has some potential in its own right) but this unseen element keeps punching me in the shoulder. So. In the interest of me getting back to my cadaver dogs and foolish humans, here's what I want to expound on.

The Poke Rafferty series in general: The second one is the weakest of the four, but still good. Don't skip it. They all hang together like some delicate lace. Read them in order. Read them all.

Hallinan's characterization:They are rich and complex. They live in a rich and complex society (Bangkok) and one bleeds into the other. They both will rip your heart out. Heroes abound in the most unlikely places. And no one, no one, has given me an eight or nine or ten-year old girl better than Timothy Hallinan.

Chapter Length: I haven't checked this, but my impression was that somehow they got longer in the last two books. There were scene breaks, but personally, I miss the shorter chapters. Could have been an editorial/publisher/cost thing. (So, in reference to my tip, Chapter 19 in Queen is long. And intense. Just sayin'.)

Third Person Present: This is awesome. I don't know how long it took him to find his voice there, but you have got to check it out. I don't know if it's operator error or truth, but on my Kindle edition of the first book in the series, A Nail Through the Heart, I did a search for the word "was". Guess what, it showed up a grand total of . . . . ZERO times.

Action scenes: We've been taught that short, bullet-type sentences help convey the speed and urgency of a situation. I get that. It's true. The problem I've seen with this technique in the past is that an action scene can come out sounding like a To-Do list. Hallinan conveys intensity using a zillion commas. Here's one sentence (if I can choose just one—okay, I picked three in succession) from page 256 of The Queen of Patpong :

She's emitting a high, earsplitting squeal, as even and unvarying as an electronic alarm. Her assailant brings up a hand and hits her with a heavy slap that rocks her head and loosens her grip, and she pitches forward onto her stomach. The man brings back a foot to kick her.

I just sat back and said, "Oh, wow."



CR: Think I'll begin a Jeffery Deaver tonight. One I bought at the Writer's Police Academy. Sorry, can't think of the name right now.

It's all better with friends.

When Detail Drains

I wrote about action scenes a while ago, but I've considered them even more in the last few days.

How does a writer transfer that amazing action scene from the screen (for real or in his or her mind) to the page? Some of those action scenes in a movie are awesome, and I almost hold my breath while they're taking place. I see every detail and it's all I can do not to call out. Have you experienced those? (I was lazy on Sunday and watched movies most of the day.)

Sadly, with many—if not most—novels that I read, these are one of the parts of the story that bore me. I find myself skipping over them, plucking out a word here and there to make sure there's nothing important happening that might force me to go back and read it carefully later.

What's with that?

As I mentioned in the earlier post, slowing down and developing details are important. But too much of either and you can kill the story. Trying to capture every nuance that is visually available on the screen becomes tedious and draining when you're throwing it out to your audience using only words.

How do you lift that tension-filled cinematic moment to the page?

I knew there had to be an answer.

Behind my back at this very moment is a bookcase with probably over sixty books related to writing. I like to think that somehow the brilliant advice and direction in each of them would somehow drill into the back of my head when I'm goofing around with emails, but alas, they require a more interactive approach.

Donald Maass is my 'go to' guy when it comes to most things writing, and he didn't fail me in The Fire in Fiction. In fact, I had conveniently highlighted it months ago when I first read it:

" . . . action, when related in strictly visual terms, feels flat. Handled objectively, it does not move us. Emotions are needed to give action force." (p. 198)

Yes! Exactly! So what does this mean . . . exactly?

Master Maass continues later:

" . . . tension in action comes not from the action itself but from inside the point-of-view character experiencing it." (p. 200)

(Note: This is also the first time I've seen a 'poor' example spelled out in a craft book. Nope. Not gonna tell you. You'll have to get your hands on a copy for yourself. But it begins on page 196.)

So, the way I interpret this is you reign in your broad cinematic view of the details to the sweat and fear and utter desperation in your POV character.

Slow it down, provide the details, but don't try to be a reporter on the scene. Be the character. This would be a perfect place for deep POV.

If there's something else, please share!




CR: Rain Gods by James Lee Burke. This one has really slowed me down. I'm considering shelving it for a bit because I'm sure it's me and not Mr. Burke. And, to be honest, there's been a lot of life going on at the moment.

It's all better with friends.

Writing Action Scenes

The way I read an action scene is not the way I should write an action scene.

I tend to hurdle through the scene, hitting the top notes and every other chord. The intensity and speed of the thing compels me to read wildly fast—as if I have to keep up.

I miss the subtleties. The lower notes. The smells.

If you read action scenes like I do, I encourage you to go back later and read them s-l-o-w. Taste what the author has folded into the words to make each one count. To make you feel and hear and smell the action.



Don't forget the anticipation that is often just before an action scene. Dean Koontz is one of the best at this. If you haven't read him, pick up one of his books and experience a master.

For the build-up, I could write:

"Abby walked down to the end of the dark street."

I mean, that's what happened. Right? And we know it's whatever happens at the end of the street that matters most in this scene.

But what if I add an empty sack from a fast food restaurant skittering on the pavement? Clouds obscuring the moon and a distant roll of thunder. Palm fronds flapping. She smelled the rain on its way, layering over the cooking smells slipping out from the closely stacked frame and shingle houses that lined the street. The slap, slap of her shoes as they hit the ground. Goosebumps appearing on her exposed arms. Details heighten the mood. The anxiety. The terror.

And details will help to slow the action down—make the scene memorable—when she gets to the end of the street and meets who, or what, is waiting for her.




CR: The Siege by Stephen White.

It's all better with friends.