Elements of Fiction Writing - Scene & Structure

by Jack Bickham

  I had seen Lechova play on television, and had been impressed. She was tall, slender, blond, beautiful, and absolutely unflappable, combining the cool of a Chrissie with the dynamite attack of a Martina. "She's great," I conceded. "So what?"

  "So she didn't play in the Wimbledon that just finished."

  "Strained knee, I heard."

  "Wrong."

  "What's right, then?"

  "The Yugoslav government kept her out. Now they've set up this whole invitational tourney in Belgrade to showcase her and her sister."

  "Are you telling me she wasn't injured —that they kept her from traveling to England for the biggest tournament in the world?"

  "Precisely. They pulled her passport. Her sister Hannah's, too. They can't leave Yugoslavia." "Jesus Christ. Why?" "Who knows for sure?" "You do." "No. Really." "I think you're lying."

  He shrugged. "The point is, she's had enough of it. She wants to defect to the U.S."

  "Why doesn't she just wait until the U.S. Open in September and walk out of the locker room and ask for asylum? Surely her passport thing will be cleared up by then."

  "Don't bet on it."

  I thought about it. "Collie, what are you not telling me?"

  "Nothing," he said, lying smoothly enough.

  "There may be a lot of people over there who would like to come to the West," I pressed. "Why is she of such interest to us? She may be great, but she's still just a tennis player."

  Collie's jaw set. "There are good reasons."

  "Want to name one?"

  "There's no need for you to know."

  I sighed. Somehow I had known he would say that. They were very dramatic sometimes, these guys. "All right, then," I said. "Danisa Lechova wants out, you think you can get her out during the tournament over there, and I can help. How?"

  "All you have to do is go over there, play in the celebrity, write some copy, interview her a couple of times, and facilitate communication between her and the people who will do the work."

  "A go-between."

  "Yes."

  "Is it that hard for her to talk to people?" "We can't risk their seeing her talking direct to our people on the scene."

  "They watch her that closely?"

  "They keep a pretty close eye on her, yes."

  "'They' being the UDBA?"

  He looked a lot more uncomfortable. "And possibly the KGB."

  "The Jugs have never let the Russians meddle in their internal affairs. And you're telling me the UDBA and the KGB are cooperating in watching Danisa Lechova?"

  "It's an unusual case, Brad," he said lamely.

  "I think you better tell me what's so special about this girl."

  "I've told you as much as I need to. Besides, your part is

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  relatively straightforward."

  "Right. The last time one of you gave me that line, I almost got my kneecaps crushed."

  "This is different. This is easy."

  "Just dodge the UDBA and the KGB. Right."

  "Well, there's also a minor problem with her coach."

  "Fjbk? Is Fjbk still coaching her?"

  "Yes. Miloslav Fjbk. Serb. Not a bad player once. Great coach. You know, I'm sure, about the work he did with Lendl a few years back; Lendl went to him. Fjbk sees Lechova as his greatest production as a coach. Also, although he's an old fart —over 40 —it appears he's interested in a lot more than the lovely Danisa's backhand."

  I let the old fart comment pass. "So the man who makes contact with her will have a jealous lover glowering nearby."

  "He's not her lover. We're told she isn't even aware of his crush. He's . . . circumspect. But our informants say he watches her like a sheepdog, and goes crazy if she so much as smiles at a young man her own age."

  "Well, that's good, then," I said. "Fjbk shouldn't worry about me. I'm almost as old a fart as he is."

  Collie missed my irony. "You'll go, then." He stabbed his cigarette into the ashtray.

  "I don't know. This all sounds fishy as hell to me."

  He gave me his sincere, let's-be-honest look, which he did rather well. "Brad, would we lie to you?"

  "Yes."

  "It's routine."

  "I may not be very smart, Collie, but I've done enough for you guys to know that these last-minute assignments are never quite routine."

  "Well, we realize that it's inconvenient for you. So I'm authorized to offer more than the usual $160 a day per diem."

  My suspicions deepened, but only enough to resemble the Grand Canyon. "How much more?"

  "Whatever you think is fair," he told me with opaque eyes.

  "And it's routine," I said sarcastically. "Right."

  "The highest authority wants her out of there as soon as possible, and the Yugoslav International gives us our chance. You're the only man who can get close enough to her to work well as our go-between. You can name your own contract price on this one. You can make a small fortune."

  I walked to the door. "Okay. That's it. Out."

  He looked startled. "What did I say?"

  "You son of a bitch. I never did anything for you people for the money."

  "I didn't mean to imply —"

  "I'm not rich," I cut in, really steamed, "but I'm getting

  along. If you want a mercenary, go find one of your turncoats, out making a mint of taxpayer money on the college lecture circuit, telling the kids how awful the CIA is. Tell one of them to name their own price. They'll probably be willing to sell you their loyalty again for a week or ten days, if the price is high enough."

  "Calm down, Brad. My God."

  "You calm down, Collie. On your way out of here."

  "I was just trying to show you that it's a vital assignment."

  I looked at him and took a few deep breaths. The fatigue and disappointment of the match had frayed my temper. I had been too sensitive, perhaps.

  I said, "If I do it, it won't be for the money."

  "Fine."

  "I'll take per diem. Nothing more."

  His lips quirked. "How noble. You and Ollie North, right?"

  "Screw you."

  Collie yawned.

  I told him, "And I might not do it anyway."

  He grinned, irritatingly confident again. "We'll provide you with a printout of background information on these people and precisely what we want done, and how we want you to do it."

  "When do I get that?"

  "You can get it tomorrow, but you'll have to go down to the Federal Building in downtown Dallas and meet me there to read it. The orders say none of it leaves the office."

  "You break in here in the middle of the night to avoid our being seen together, and then I'm supposed to waltz into the Federal Building? In broad daylight?"

  He looked blank. "Who would recognize you?"

  "Thanks!"

  "So what do you say? Are you onboard for this one?" "I just have a few thousand questions to clear up first. How do I get an invitation to play in the celebrity over there?" "We can take care of that."

  "I don't have an assignment. It's not believable that a freelance tennis writer flies clear the hell and gone to Belgrade to cover a new tournament on speculation."

  "Assignments from one or two of the big tennis magazines can be arranged."

  "And I'm supposed to go over there, contact Danisa Lechova, then pass messages back and forth between her and the people who will actually get her out."

  "Right. Simple."

  I knew that was a lie. I asked him more questions. He was evasive. The printouts, he said, would tell me all I needed to know.

  There was far too much here that I didn't know. That was one of the reasons I was interested. It was clear that the Company really wanted this girl . . . was ready to mount an extraordinary effort to get her out promptly. I was very curious why. And I had helped before on
no more basis than realization that somebody thought it was important.

  Still, I kept probing and he kept dodging. We maneuvered for quite a long time. Finally it became clear that I was going to accept or reject this job on the basis of vastly incomplete information. I gave up trying.

  "Okay," I said wearily.

  "So you're onboard," Collie said with satisfaction, trying to

  close like an insurance salesman.

  "I'll read the printouts."

  "Which means you're onboard."

  "Which means I'll read the printouts."

  "Close enough."

  "When and where in the Federal Building?"

  "Tomorrow. Two o'clock. I'll meet you at the testing office." He got up to leave. It was almost 3 A.m.

  "Incidentally," I told him at the back door, "about our Ted Sherman. Who can't take this assignment because he's in the hospital?"

  "Right. Back trouble."

  "I heard," I told him, "that he went someplace for you people a few months ago, and got his cover blown by some people who weren't as gentlemanly as we try to be. I heard they stuck an anode up his penis and talked to him a long time with the high voltage on. I heard he's in the hospital because he now lacks a lot of physical equipment that most men value very highly, and it's going to take the shrinks a long time with him after the urologists and plastic surgeons get done."

  "God!" Collie said. "Where did you ever hear crap like that? That's ridiculous! Totally untrue. Totally."

  "Really?"

  "Absolutely!" He looked sincerely shocked.

  Good liar, Collie.

  Commentary

  Lines 1-16. This opening dialogue exchange functions primarily to show Smith's emotional reaction to the shock of finding his old associate hiding in his condominium in the middle of the night. It also describes Davis a bit, and establishes the kind of sarcastic, sardonic relationship the two men have. Although they are in action here, however, a scene cannot be said to have started because neither man has yet stated a goal.

  Line 17. Although presumably Davis had some goal for this meeting first —he having initiated it —it is the viewpoint character, Smith, who states a goal first: He wants to know what Collie Davis wants from him. (Scene question: Will Smith learn what Davis wants?)

  Lines 20-22. Davis does not respond directly to Smith's question. The reader will experience such nonresponsive behavior as conflictful.

  Lines 23-27. Smith responds first in an internalization to Davis's uninformative reply. In this internalization, he decides to press his goal.

  Line 28. Smith repeats his goal.

  Line 29. Davis gives a direct response to the stimulus-question, but is vague. (If he were to blurt out everything at once, there would be no scene tension and he would make a multiple-page speech. For drama, Smith must drag the information out of him, bit by bit.)

  Lines 38-39. Davis becomes more specific.

  Line 45. Now having some information, Smith changes the ground on which the scene is being fought. He is still seeking information on Davis's mission here, but now asks "Why me?"

  Line 46. Davis replies directly.

  Lines 47-48. Smith begins trying to get out of taking the job, while fishing for further details.

  Line 54. Davis begins bringing out more information, but in the form of a question.

  Lines 80-84. Very tightly woven moment-by-moment stimulusresponse dialogue.

  Lines 85-86. Davis further defines his mission, what he wants.

  Line 91. A brief internalization is hinted at but not presented. Smith shifts ground again, voicing a new suspicion.

  Line 120. Smith is still pressing for what he believes Davis is holding back from him.

  Line 127. Davis gives more information —all bad news.

  Lines 146-152. Smith knows a lot by now, but his suspicions have only deepened. He has made good progress from the start of the scene, where he merely wanted to know in general what Davis wanted. But many new questions have arisen in his mind.

  Lines 153-186. Always be alert for the opportunity to introduce new angles in the conflict. Here Davis's casual mention of extra pay for the assignment angers Smith, who protests that he is not a mercenary. (Of course this functions to characterize Smith, as well as to complicate the conflict.)

  Lines 209-211. Smith repeats what he has come to know, to review for the reader.

  Line 212. Davis agrees totally.

  Lines 213-220. Smith's internalization to show what he is thinking in response to the stimulus of Davis's apparent lie.

  Lines 221-224. Although it's a rule that one never should summarize in a scene, here is summary! Why? Because the argument has gotten to the brink of repetitiveness, and to string it out further might lose the reader's attention. However, since all the needed development has already been done, and this should be a very difficult decision for Smith, a bit of summary is inserted to indicate to the reader that Smith did not get to a decision in the time span of a few minutes.

  Line 225. Smith agrees to Davis's unstated but clearly implied scene goal, to get him on board.

  Line 232. Smith needs a bit more information.

  Lines 235-246. Smith reverts to one of Davis's earliest scene lies with information about Ted Sherman. This furthers the characterization of both characters, as well as setting up more aura of danger around the mission.

  Lines 247-250. Davis, in a final brief bit of conflict, insists Smith's report is not true, implying that any danger in this mission could not be so great.

  Line 251. In the briefest of internalizations, Smith calls Davis a liar— showing the reader ihalyes, Smith got his information, but he is now moving into an adventure which could result in his death. In other words, the brief internalization serves to help the reader realize that Smith has indeed had a scene disaster.

  APPENDIX 4

  LINKING YOUR

  SCENES:

  THE STRUCTURE

  OF SEQUEL

  This appendix contains two excerpts. Commentary follows them.

  EXCERPT 1

  Excerpt is from chapter 13 of Rage of Angels, by Sidney Sheldon. William Morrow & Co., © 1980 by Sidney Sheldon.

  Later, when Jennifer thought about that luncheon, she tried to remember what they had talked about, what they had eaten, who had stopped by the table to say hello to Adam, but all she could remember was the nearness of Adam, his touch, his looks. It was as though he had her in some kind of spell and she was mesmerized, helpless to break it.

  At one point Jennifer thought, I know what to do, I'll make love with him. Once. It can't be as wonderful as my fantasies. Then I'll be able to get over him.

  Commentary

  Although this sequel is very short, the progress from emotion to decision can be seen in its few words. Not classic in pattern, it nevertheless has the thrust of sequel.

  Line 1. Establishes that this is a remembrance after the fact, which indicates that it is probably some form of sequel.

  Lines 2-6. Although a direct statement of emotion is not found, clearly this is not a description of normal cognitive process; she tried to recall rationally, but could not. The implication is of confusion caused by her intense emotional reaction to Adam.

  Lines 7-9. Sheldon, always likely to fragment structure for the sake of forward speed, skips over any logical analysis Jennifer may have gone through to get to a decision, and gives the decision straight away.

  Note also that in this case the intensity of Jennifer's attraction to Adam is emphasized by the fact that the reader is shown no analytical thought process, or delay to think about the decision. (To put this another way, Sheldon's departure from classic sequel structure is for good reason: to better illustrate the intense, impetuous nature of the decision —which in turn emphasizes the intensity of the physical attraction.)

  EXCERPT 2

  Excerpt is from an as-yet-unpublished novel, by the author, © 1991, Jack M. Bickham.

  The fall was quick and sickening. Johnnie's hands and arms b
ashed against rock and support timbers as she flailed to catch onto something, but before she could cushion her fall in any way, she hit the bottom. Instead of the stunning solid impact she tried to brace for, she hit with a shock into the coldest, blackest water she had ever imagined.

  The icy impact made her gasp, choking in some of the brackish fluid. She was under —upside down and about to drown. Desperation took over. She flailed upward and got her head into the air again, gagging and coughing. The bright blip of her flashlight bobbed in the water beside her, throwing crazy patterns of brightness on a bare rock ledge. She grabbed the flashlight and lunged for the edge, catching it with one hand. Her breath whistled in her lungs as she shook herself, trying to see more clearly.

  Beginning to get control of her breathing spasms, she tossed the flashlight up on the pool shelf, then got both elbows up over the rocks and heaved herself convulsively up and out.

  Bits of dirt and rock tumbled down, peppering her with the aftermath of her plunge. Amazingly, she didn't seem to have any broken bones. A violent spasm bent her double, and she retched up some of the oily water she had swallowed. She couldn't seem to stop shaking. She sprayed the flashlight beam around, first looking up —the way she had fallen.

  It looked like a long way up there, more than the twenty feet she remembered from the charts. The walls were mostly rock, chiseled out very smoothly, with only a half dozen vertical timbers still in place from whatever bracing the miners had built when they dug to this lower level so long ago. At the top, she could see the shattered ends of the timbers that had given way under her weight.

  There was no way she could climb back up: no handholds, no niches she could dig her toes into, and it was too wide to try any kind of body-wedge tactic like the rock-climbers did on the sheer face of Red Mountain. She was stuck down here. She had