Maybe the axe belonged to Bronwyn. We know that Galen and the king are in a tower. It’s night because the barbarians have torches and are “preparing for the coming day’s siege.” I also used the actions of the characters—a hand on Galen’s shoulder, his grip on the windowsill, the lightning reflecting in the king’s tear—to convey an emotional weight. Someone saying “I’m sad” isn’t going to conjure up that feeling.
Pacing Is Essential
When balancing big action and little action, find a good combination of pacing, movement, and environment. In the dialog example, the pacing of the action is slow. Galen turns, the king just stands there, and the barbarians aren’t attacking yet. The movements the characters make convey a sense of claustrophobia, of impending trouble. The environment furthers that by placing them up above the action, though we (and they) know that soon they will have to descend into the hell of the barbarian attack.
But in big action set pieces, as when the steely eyed warriors are finally locked in mortal combat, blade-to-blade, mano a mano, we need to ask one very important question: WWJCD?
WHAT WOULD JACKIE CHAN DO?
If you’ve never seen a Jackie Chan movie, stop reading this right now, go rent at least two of them, watch them all the way through, then come back and start reading again.
Okay, now that you’ve seen at least two Jackie Chan movies, let’s take a look at pacing, movement, and environment with this peculiar cinematic genius in mind.
Two warriors are locked in mortal combat—what would Jackie Chan do? He would make that sword fight fast and interesting. But how? There are an infinite number of ways, and that’s why fantasy and science fiction will live forever. If you approach developing characters by asking questions, you can create action scenes by doing the same thing.
How many weapons do they have? What if there are two warriors, but only one weapon? Now one of them has to figure out how to avoid being stabbed while attempting to disarm his opponent and get the sword for himself. The combatants could trade this sword back and forth a number of times before one of them wins the day.
Where are they? They can use the environment to try to get the upper hand on each other. If they’re in a room with furniture, how does that affect the fight? Can they hide behind something? Pick up a chair and throw it? What’s the chair made of? Can the guy with the sword cut through it?
Are there other potential weapons? Is there a shield and crossed swords hanging on the wall? Are the swords rusty and dull, just old ornamental pieces, useless in a fight? Or can one of the fighters grab a sword? Is there a bottle of perfume on the dressing table? If one guy throws that in the other guy’s face, will it blind him? Will it hinder them both, with the air so thick with perfume neither can take a deep breath?
The more you add to the environment of an action scene, the more tools you have to work with and the more varied and intense the fight becomes. Two guys fencing can be mildly interesting to some portion of your audience, but when one character is flipping through the rafters avoiding the sword blade while fashioning a makeshift bow out of clothes hangers and the princess’s lingerie, it’ll be interesting to everybody.
Keep Up to Speed
There can be more than one speed to the fight. One of the best movie action set pieces of all time is the giant bug scene in Peter Jackson’s remake of King Kong. The pace—even the music throughout that scene—is torturously slow, and it’s scary as hell. Our guy flipping through the rafters calls for fast pacing, but don’t spare the slow and suspenseful moments, too.
The guy flipping through the rafters is moving (fast) in an interesting way (flipping) through an interesting part of the environment (the rafters—not a usual fencing arena), while using found items from his environment to tilt the balance by creating a makeshift weapon. Assuming you’ve established that the guy flipping through the rafters is unusually agile, and there’s such a thing as elastic in this fantasy world, this scene is plausible, if not entirely realistic.
We’ve talked about this in several contexts: the sometimes subtle distinction between plausible and realistic. In a nutshell, plausible is when you shrug and think, “Okay, I can buy that.”
In action scenes it’s up to you to set your plausibility meter somewhere between wildly imaginative (logically impossible) and entirely in keeping with all natural and physical laws (backed up by well-documented evidence). If your writing is heavily shifted to the latter end of the scale, you’re not writing fantasy anymore but maybe a really fascinating near-future science fiction police procedural. If it’s too far off the other end, your book could be imaginative and weird, but it might be a stretch for even most fantasy readers to take seriously.
If you’ve established that your world contains magic shoes that allow people to walk on air, it’s perfectly plausible that our combatants are outside, sliding across the wind, using clouds for cover while sneaking up on a foe who’s flying on magical wings. Lots less realistic, but if you’ve set the rules for your world and adhere to them properly, no less plausible in context.
When it comes to approaching action scenes, author Mike Resnick advises, “Study the particular market… and put in a little more or a little less action than the competition—not so much or so little that it doesn’t fit the format—to make [the] story stand out a bit.”
WHAT’S AT STAKE?
This is the biggest question—the biggest series of questions—that any author should ask when developing an action scene. It goes back to the essential question of motivation. Why are these two guys trying to kill each other? What happens if Guy A wins? What happens if Guy B wins? What happens if neither win, but one manages to escape? If the guy flipping through the rafters is our hero, and he’s in the princess’s private bedchamber because he’s gone ahead to make sure everything is safe—only to discover an assassin lying in wait for the princess—then the hero will have to find a way to kill the villain before the princess gets there. A clock is ticking, so things start going faster. What’s at stake? The princess’s life. Maybe the entire future of the realm.
“Have you ever read a lengthy action-packed scene, a fight, a chase, and even though it’s full of Sturm und Drang, you’re not very excited about it?” Kevin J. Anderson asks. “Probably because the action feels like filler, ‘insert adventure here.’
“An action scene needs to emerge from the overall story,” Anderson goes on. “If readers sense that this is just a placeholder (the pacing was slowing down, so the author just threw in a random encounter with a monster, they fight, they get away, the plot moves on), they don’t feel it’s important. You also have to know and care about the characters involved so you care who is being chased or threatened.”
INTENSITY
What’s the difference between action, violence, and gore?
Action describes a scene in which there is a direct physical conflict over an important person, object, or ideal that’s designed to resolve the conflict in a compelling way.
Violence is a direct physical assault by one person or power on another for the purpose of intimidation, punishment, revenge, or some other one-sided motive.
Gore is either of the first two without any motivation.
If Guy A and Guy B, flipping through the rafters of the princess’s bedroom, are fighting because one wants to protect the princess while the other wants to harm her, that’s action. If Guy B is an assassin, waiting in the bedroom for Guy A, whom he attacks and brutalizes, that’s an act of violence. If Guy B is a homicidal maniac motivated by nothing other than the desire to kill people, and Guy A is a victim of convenience who just happened to wander by, that’s gore.
With those definitions in mind, there can be action with blood and guts flowing, violence with no one being physically touched (the more subtle violence of intimidation and psychological abuse), and gore with no blood at all.
As a rule, most mainstream editors will tell you they aren’t interested in gore, but that’s because no one is interested in unmotivated
violence. Finding a balance of blood and guts, action and violence, is part of what makes your writing your writing. Censor yourself if you’re intentionally writing for a younger audience, or let the blood fly if you’re willing to work on the edges of the genre. As in all things, balance will be rewarded.
CHAPTER 27
EVERYONE NEEDS A LITTLE ROMANCE
When some people hear (or read) the word romance, what springs to mind is the supermarket checkout aisle bodice-ripper. There are at least as many books on writing romance novels as there are on writing science fiction and fantasy novels, so if you have a passion for that genre, find a few of those for advice and inspiration. But beyond that, every genre of fiction can include romantic elements. In fact, it’s rare for a book not to do so.
Heroes and villains alike are often motivated by love, or lust, or both. We’ve used these in examples throughout this book: the would-be priest who would rather go home and marry his small-town sweetheart, Guy A flipping around trying to use his girlfriend’s undies as a weapon … Love and lust may be the most common motivators of human behavior. Those and money.
THE RULES APPLY TO ROMANCE
Both fantasy and science fiction require fully realized characters, and that usually includes some form of romance. People have done extraordinary things in the name of love, both positive and negative. When you’re developing your characters, it’s important to know whom they go home to every night—or whom they hope someday to go home to, or whom they used to go home to but can’t anymore.
Like action and violence, a well-developed love interest is all about balance and motivation. Even the most male-dominated sword and sorcery or military science fiction story should still have some sexual dynamic.
One of the greatest fantasy stories of all time, “Red Nails” by Robert E. Howard, still might have had as much blade-swinging action with just Conan, but when Howard added Valeria to the mix, it burst into life. Conan loved her, and when her life was at stake, we were drawn into their story.
Here are some ways in which romance can enter your story.
ROMANTIC TRIANGLES AND OTHER SHAPES
Romantic triangles have been a common plot device for as long as people have been writing fiction. One man or woman is loved by two other men or women who compete for his or her affection. Romantic triangles in fiction have been further complicated by our society’s increased openness to “alternative lifestyles.” That triangle could be three men, three women, two men and one woman, or two women and one man. Who loves whom is entirely up to your imagination and what you’re trying to say with your novel.
The classic romantic triangle can feel a little tired if you don’t mix it up. One way to freshen things is by changing the shape. Who says confused lovers come in threes? Of course, the more people you add, the more complicated things get, and this could easily become confusing. Still, what about a romantic square that’s two triangles joined together? Or three people competing for the affections of the same person? Fine, too.
SAME-SEX ROMANCE
In all honesty, the science fiction and fantasy genres can have a conservatism all their own, and it’s a rare thing to find a mainstream genre novel that overtly stretches the boundaries in terms of sex, but there certainly is no rule to say that any number or variety of fantasy characters can’t be lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender. And fantasy and science fiction, with the introduction of magical or high-tech elements, can give whole new options to exploring alternative sexualities no one but you has ever dreamed of.
EROTICISM
As was true with action, the intensity you give to your sex scenes is a question of balance. There’s a strong market for erotic fantasy that moves very close to the edge of pornography. But don’t go past your personal comfort zone and try to force out blow-by-blow sex scenes (no pun intended). If you’re a fan of erotic fantasy, go for it. If you aren’t, don’t.
You should put as much thought and effort into crafting creative sex scenes as you put into writing creative action scenes, though you won’t be asking so much what Jackie Chan would do as what Jenna Jameson would do. I could get in trouble demanding that you rent two of her videos, so let’s go ahead and call that optional for consenting adults.
CHAPTER 28
USE HUMOR WITH CARE
On his deathbed, the British actor and theatrical director Sir Donald Wolfit reportedly said, “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.” Though he was talking about acting, his words hold just as true for writers across every medium. Comedy has a place in fantasy, to be sure, but you will need to proceed with the utmost caution. Wolfit wasn’t kidding. Comedy is hard.
In Chapter 12, we mentioned the supporting character who provides comic relief. A big percentage of mainstream fantasy and science fiction novels include a character who knows when to ease the tension with a quick-witted one-liner, or to temper the earnest pseudo-political or quasi-religious rhetoric with a handy moment of slapstick.
If you’re not a funny person in real life—if you don’t routinely and spontaneously make the people around you laugh—don’t try it in your writing. Better your book remains serious and moody, devoid of humor, than sprinkled with clunkers.
While I was editing Paul Kidd’s Forgotten Realms novel Council of Blades, he was in England writing for Monty Python alum Eric Idle. Council of Blades is a hoot—but the Realms fans hated it.
This was a lesson Paul and I learned: You have to be careful and even-handed with comedic fantasy and science fiction lest fans think you’re making fun of the genre, and by association, making fun of them. Genre readers can embrace you like one of their own, sustaining careers that last decades, or they can drop you like a load of bricks. If they feel they’re being mocked, good luck ever selling them another book.
I am a fan of fantasy and science fiction. I happily identify myself as a geek, a nerd, a Trekkie, a gamer … I’ve made fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons not only my hobby but also my career. I take it very seriously, and when someone comes along and smugly dismisses the genre, I can’t help but feel they’ve smugly dismissed me. And I don’t number among my friends people who have no respect for me.
Have respect for the genre, and your readers. Be certain your lighter moments invite your readers to laugh with you, rather than make them think you’re laughing at them.
TO SUM UP
The little things that people do while talking to each other, which we’ll call “business,” can lend a depth to a scene that’s otherwise just meant to get some information across. Let a nod sometimes replace a spoken “yes,” a tear tell us someone is upset, or a fist pounded on a tabletop convey anger.
For bigger action set pieces, look to the movies for inspiration. But regardless of the size and scope of your action, remember that it has to be strongly motivated. If there’s nothing at stake, there’s no reason for the fight.
These definitions bear repeating:
Action describes a direct physical conflict over an important person, object, or ideal that’s designed to resolve the conflict in a compelling and exciting way.
Violence is a direct physical assault by one person or power over another for the purpose of intimidation, punishment, revenge, or other one-sided motives.
Gore is either of the first two without any motivation.
The level of intensity of action and violence is up to you, but there should never be any unmotivated action or violence (gore) in your book. Ever.
Every novel should have romantic elements. Characters are often strongly motivated by love. As with action and violence, the intensity of erotic scenes is all about your comfort level. Humor should be used with utmost care—only if you’re funny and only in a way that shows proper respect for the genre and its readership.
* * *
STEP SIX | FINISHING TOUCHES
“Novels start with a feeling of something in my brain that cannot be explained.”
—J. M. McDERMOTT, author of Last Dragon
It may seem as though
we’re almost done. We are, but you’re only just beginning. Now that you’ve got a good sense of what story you’re going to write, which characters will populate it, what those characters are after, and which world they’ll live in, you have only one more thing to do.
You have to actually write the thing.
This section will offer advice on how to get writing and keep writing, while keeping a firm hand on all your notes and conceptual stuff. This is the part most people don’t necessarily think of, but it can make or break a novel.
CHAPTER 29
KEEP IT FRESH
I’ll assume you are not already a New York Times bestselling author of an ongoing series of popular fantasy or science fiction novels. You have not already carved out your corner of the genre and defined a world to call your own. That being the case, you’ll need your book to show, really from the very first paragraph, that though you haven’t yet, you’re ready, willing, and able to do just that.
“From the publishing perspective, like all genres, fantasy is utterly trend-driven,” author and critic Paul Witcover says. I think he’s right, but unfortunately new authors are often under undue pressure to establish the next trend. If you follow too close in the footsteps of the last bestselling author, you run the risk of appearing to have cobbled together some kind of knock-off. Then you have to hope to find a publisher looking to knock off the last bestseller. It can happen, but it’ll leave you with some baggage that might be hard to dump later in your career.
The Guide to Writing Fantasy and Science Fiction Page 13
