The “Scene” of Death

As writers, we live and die by our words.

Particularly, the avenues we choose to formulate and describe a scene in a chapter become critical ways for us to convey emotions, fear, and acceptance for our readers to relish in our books. There are formulaic frameworks, tried and true structures, even the dreaded copycat of previous works. Pick your poison. Each comes with its own set of dire consequences.

I like to wing it.

That is not to say I do not spend an inordinate amount of time thinking, pondering, debating, maybe even a slight cry or two, on what I need to do on my end to create the ultimate scene that defines the current chapter.

I do all of the above and more.

However, that is not the focus or point of this post. Not at all.

When I set out to write a chapter, I have envisioned the entire story beginning to end, upside down, and right-side up. I know all of the big picture details I want to include. I just have to dive down into the nitty gritty finer pieces of the larger puzzle to paint the masterpiece in a matter of succinct pages to not get overly verbose or detailed to lose my lovely audience. If I venture off into la-la land and go on and on, the momentum and heightened excitement will get lost in the shuffle.

And, die on the vine.

What? Help me out, good Sir.

Of course my dear friends.

Scenes are those tiny plot points that are exhibited in chapters to tell the smaller parts of the overall story. Add them all up and you get the plot. They are building blocks, foundation bricks, call them what you like, but they are the critical components that from beginning to end, can make or break your book. Drone on too much, and you lose your audience. Don’t offer up enough, and you create something that is choppy or confusing to try and understand.

Do it right, and you keep people reading and entertained.

I would agree, writer man.

Thanks, gentle reader. When I say scene of death, do not get confused that this is going to talk about how to create a death scene or anything like that. No, not remotely close. What I mean is this, that if you fail to properly whip up the concoction of words, your descriptions are kindergarten-like, the dialog is meh, the scene winds up a pile of poo. It dies, so to speak, in its attempt to engage, entertain, scare, cause a heart attack, make someone cry, etc.

You get it.

But, does the writer?

See, that’s the dilemma I face. I am the one with the story to tell. The person who knows the plot, characters, the whole shebang. My mind fills in all the details. Where it fails sometimes is ensuring that I create a scene that introduces you to it, takes you along with the experience, and then leaves you wanting more as it ends and a new one begins. If I go all tunnel-vision focused and forget that you don’t know what I am trying to say because I knew the details and forgot to fill you in on some of them, then it leaves you scratching your head. Wondering about what you just spent your precious time reading and then were left in the lurch with a less than stellar picture of what just occurred.

A bomb on my part if that’s what you get.

A scene has so many aspects it can make your head go all poltergeist spinning around and around. There’s introducing it. The first step in letting a reader ease into what they are about to get themselves into for the next odd minutes. Use gentle hands that caress and the skin as the chapter unfolds. Or, go bold. You can throw them to the wolves, go all commando and guns blazing, but you better not then fizzle out or go limp.

Ouch.

Then, there is and are the who, what, where, when, why, and maybe a how. Not all of them get included, though I have to include the right ones to tell the story and the setting I present. A crocheted sweater of colors that comes together and feels all snug. If I drop the ball, the sweater is itchy and one arm is longer than the other.

A complete cluster.

Last, the end part. The exit that ties things up, or not, and propels you to turn the page to want to know more. You got what just flashed before your eyes, liked it, and are game to continue the journey. If as a writer I can deliver a great scene one after another, then I am doing my job and earning my reward.

You.

Sure, there is a monetary part. I can’t lie. But, getting you as a reader and someone wanting to read to the end and then capture your support for the next book, that is the real juice. Writers don’t make much in the scheme of it all. Number of fans and supporters is worth its weight in gold. Or platinum.

Maybe a decadent three layer chocolate cake. I’m easy.

So, back to my diatribe, or, conversation here. A scene has to be good, in order to create the path forward. If it’s great, then it’s an autobahn that speeds you along with an exhilaration and love that makes the heart patter. If it falls flat on its face, then the book just might go to the bookcase to wither in a dusty purgatory or the dreaded circular file.

The trash can.

Some scenes nail it. Others, well, they might be just, OK. The one-offs, curl up into a ball and cry. I have to make sure that I make the latter far and few. Hopefully, they never show up to the party. That’s the death knoll and hells bells that keep me awake at night.

Failure.

And, my trusted supporters, horrible scenes are one of the reasons for my suspense thriller fiction I like to have short and engaging chapters that keep the pace and action flowing so you are on your toes the whole time. The scenes smacking you awake and placing you right in the mix. A mini-story within the plot.

I write, rewrite, put down and walk away, think about it, and then come back. If I don’t find a scene tickling the hairs on my arms, then it won’t do justice. If I am not on the edge of my seat, and I’m the one writing the stuff, if I can’t keep my attention, how can I keep yours?

Well then, Mister Writer Guy, it all sounds tantalizing and too good to be true. How do you do it?

Hmm. That is the trick.

I like to immediately set the tone. First sentence of the chapter. Give a glimpse of what is about to strike like a fury of rapid punches. Place you there like a fly on the wall or an active participant. Whichever you can imagine. Put you in my main character’s shoes and what they are experiencing in the moment. Supply just enough detail to rough sketch the artwork.

Then, go for it.

See, that’s the interesting part. A scene can be a chapter. A page. Even a paragraph. It is something visual to absorb from the words left in black and white. Process them, and decide what you do next. Scenes are the tiles, those tiny little colorful bits of clay glazed all pretty that when added up, you see the masterpiece. Up close, they are wonderful, but are just four corners of a square or rectangle. As they line up, group together, a shape appears, an image, and a realization and desire to keep looking ebbs like a wave in your mind. Don’t roll out the clay right, shape it so the bubbles are gone, and when you place it in the kiln and fire it up, the tile breaks.

Shards of what could have been all over.

Get the bubbles out, dip in the wrong glaze, and the colors run on the second pass in the fire. That happens, and trying to lay them down on the floor or stick to the wall, and when you step back, it’s stick figures or jumbled blah of pigments that have no rhyme or reason.

A disaster.

How to overcome? That’s the question. I could say it’s innate. A writer just does it right. The real answer. Practice and failure.

Over and over.

I have written many scenes that I simply chucked. Hit the delete button. Even erased the graphite from the paper or crossed out the ink. The words left nothing of value. The scene I saw in my mind, just died from starvation. It didn’t work for a variety of reasons. So, I had to chalk it up to any endless ideas of why, and went and started again. The best way to know how to do a scene? This secret you can’t tell anyone.

Read!

As writers, we really must be well-versed in literature and be well-read. Across genres, plots, and books. See how others have done it. Find what you like, or love. Don’t copy anything. I’m not saying that. You have to have your own voice. But, you do not have to recreate the wheel. What tickled your fancy? How did a scene make you feel? Why did the words strike a cord? Where did it grab you by the shirt and drag you along? If you step away and can understand how someone else was able to be creative and get your attention, then you can succeed on your own. Or, in your vast swim in novels and everything wordy, what did you hate? Despise? Which scenes “died” and left you feeling dirty and upset because they failed to give you a desire for more?

This is the process.

It’s not for everyone, nor does it pan out every single time. As writers we fail, succeed, even bang it out of the park for a home run. The key to remember, for me as the author, is to try, try, and keep trying to get it as right as I can. I never want a scene to fail, to wither on the vine and die a slow death. If I can keep you tantalized and wanting more after reading a scene and it’s had you on the edge of your seat, nerves all tingly, then we are in for an awesome ride.

I’ll do my best, that’s my promise to you.