Scene Writing Series, Part VI - Setting, Part IV - More Detail

By Jax Hunter

Hi Campers,

I think I’ll just write a bit more on significant detail. Have I beaten this horse ‘till it’s dead? I’m not sure that’s possible.

The life of a scene is in the details. The details put you within the character himself as he experiences the scene first-hand. The better and more perfect the details, the better your reader will step into the scene. (I can’t help but think of the Mary Poppins scene when they jump through the sidewalk picture, but I digress.)

We’ve talked a lot about visual details, as film is so primarily visual. We, as fiction writers, have the advantage of being able to use all the senses.

What does the character see, of course. But, also, what does he smell, hear, feel on his skin, taste. You get the picture. When you’re writing a scene here’s what I want you to do: Put your hands out and form the frame. Then look through the frame to see your scene. Listen to your scene. Smell your scene.

Anybody been by the ocean lately? I’m amazed that each time I’ve been there the waves are different, they seem to have a personality. One day it’s bright and sunny and the next it’s dark and stormy. When it’s stormy, the seas get choppy and there are jellyfish pieces strewn everywhere on the beach. If you look off into the distance, you can see the humidity as almost a mist. And then there are the smells, sometimes fish smell, sometimes just sea smell. And the sound of the waves, an underlying roar as you walk along. And what does the water feel like when it hits your feet and calves? Is it warm?  Maybe not the first time, but after that, it is (at least in Florida - the Pacific is cold). 

I know I tend to rush through scenes as I’m writing them. Because I know this, I have to either force myself to go slower, to actively think about the details, or I have to put them in after the fact as I’m editing. 

In his workshop at a previous conference, Jonathan King shared so many great thoughts on adding significant detail. The tape/CD is well worth getting. Here are some of his observations:

“A telling detail that shows the emotion that the character isn’t willing to show otherwise - teeth marks in the glasses .”

“Instead of - it was just after seven - the sun was turning orange and hanging momentarily before plunging behind the mountain.”

“Instead of crime scene tape - yellow, three-inch wide crime scene tape” Or what about the sepia tones on camera - he knew the crime scene tape was yellow, but it just looked grey to him now.

“Details can paint time: A black rotary phone. . .”

King, who for many years was a journalist, talks about a husband who killed his wife then shot himself. He relates that the items in the husband’s pocket included a receipt for ice cream cones that the husband and wife shared mere hours before the incident. Those are the details that make the story come to life. What does your character have in his pockets? In her purse? We must all start paying attention to these little things.

Does your hard-nose PI wear a Mickey Mouse watch? Does your soft female lead have posters of Harleys on her office wall or does she listen to rap music? Is there a Patrick Roy poster on the wall, one edge curling up for lack of interest? These are details that tell more than they’re telling, aren’t they? The things your character notices when he walks into a room tells both what the room looks like and gives your reader insight into your character. 

Your assignment this month is to crank up the detail. Add it all into each scene. You can always trim it later. As you’re watching movies and television, look for what’s going on behind the character - is there snow falling outside the window behind the characters as they talk - look for the props in the rooms. What kind of telephone is she talking on? Remember, even if the script didn’t call for those details, someone chose them and probably had a good reason for each choice. 

Until next month, have a great month and BiC-HoK (Butt in Chair – Hands on Keyboard)

Jax (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)

(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2005.)

About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.

Scene Writing Series, Part V - Setting, Part III - Detail

By Jax Hunter

Greetings Campers,

This month we’re going to take a look at how we can infuse our writing with details. The devil, and the scene, is in the details. First, we’ll take a look at the topic from a movie perspective, then we’ll broaden it for our purposes.

Obviously, movies are, for the most part, visual. Therefore, the screenwriter must use visuals more exclusively than novelists. But if we can “visualize” our scenes, we’ll be better able to put in the telling details that make our story come alive.

For a moment, let’s do a quick overview of cinematography.

There are four elements of visual content, according to Paul Lucey: Lighting, movement, color and space. These are all tools we can use in each scene. 

We can turn on only one single lamp in a room and let our character struggle to see. We can take him down either a darkened or fully lit hallway, each carrying with it its own mood.

We keep our camera stationary and view a scene with a wider lens or we can move our camera along with our character, watching his footsteps as he moves through a room. 

We can use pastels to convey soft, feminine moods or rich mahogany to imply wealth. 

To show space, the film industry most often uses a stationary camera and a medium angle lens. This shot gives the most realistic view of life. When we write scenes, we can use this same view or we can change it up, panning from left to right, or watching from a distance with a telephoto shot.

Within films, there are three prime camera angles: the close-up, the medium shot, and the long shot. Each has it’s own purpose in storytelling. The close-up is the shot of the character’s face, showing the emotion in his eyes, in his features. The medium and long shots are less able to show the fine emotion, but can still show bigger emotion, like kicking the dog. Usually as we start a scene, we’ll want to start with the long shot and move in as we go until we see the close-in emotion. However, for contrast, it might be powerful to start close-in and move out. 

One challenge that is common with both film makers and novelists is how to enrich the talking scenes with interesting sensual (five senses, not erotic) material to keep from talking-head scenes.

A way to do this is to cut the dialogue altogether and show what was going to be told earlier. Let the characters demonstrate what was going to be chatted about. 

Here’s a great example from the movie Witness. Late in the film, Book is intending to leave the farm and return to the city. There could have been a scene in the kitchen between Rachel and Book in which he tells Rachel he’s leaving. Instead, there was a montage of shots in which Rachel watches Book getting ready to leave and lets her figure it out for herself. Instead of having the husband telling the wife that he’s leaving her, why not have her find his wedding ring on the dresser. 

Another way to enrich your dialogue scenes is with interesting settings. How much better is the talking scene in the midst of a busy airport than in the taxi to the airport. In an interesting setting, your POV character can notice things, noises can interrupt - you get the picture. It’s much more poignant when emotions are high and the waitress comes to take the order and the agony or ecstasy is delayed. 

Movie makers have specific techniques that they use to pump up visual content. There are a few that will translate fairly seamlessly to novels.

Grand Images - these are the big scenes, the panoramas. These shots set the mood and put the story in context. They can also be moments that affect the characters in a bigger way. They are the sweeping images of Amish country in Witness all the way to the burning of Atlanta in Gone with the Wind. 

Visual Metaphors - these details that tell much more than they tell, so to speak. They lend themselves to the subtext of the story. These are the details that show us that the woman is sexy in subtle ways by having her drag her hand through the water in the swimming pool, or with the music that’s playing in the background. These are details that are less about the way she dresses and the way her hair falls and more about little things she does or what she drives or where she lives. Begin noticing the subtleties in movies and you might be able to take that technique to your novel scenes.

Symbols - these are props that mean something to the character, or even goals that say more than what lies on the surface. A class ring, a music box, even a place can give us great insight into a character without “telling.” Having your character hunting for buried treasure might not be about the literal worth of the treasure, but more what the finding means in terms of freedom or status or even self-esteem. 

As you’re watching movies and television, watch for great segues - the ones that make you say “YES!”  Those are often examples of Continuity Visuals. The close up of the wagon wheel as the wagon train leaves town, closing the scene, to be followed by the wagon wheel again as it passes the new grave of the Smith baby. Though these might not be as easily dramatic in prose as they are on the screen, they are tools we can find ways to use.

Business - this term refers to the activities that the characters engage in during conversation. Rarely in real life do we actually stop what we’re doing to have a conversation. We communicate while we’re cooking dinner, or folding laundry or splitting wood. Even better is when the activity is actually connected to the story - either at the time or later. 

As Lucey was writing about setting, saying that there is far more to interest viewers outdoors than inside, that, through your scenes, you can sprinkle kids skating or people playing tennis, I was reminded of a scene from Proof of Life. In this scene, Meg Ryan has to give her husband’s boss some information that she’s hoping he will act on. This information could have been conveyed in the boss’s lush office, but it was delivered on the tennis courts where Meg finds the boss playing doubles. How much more that said about the boss than if the scene was done in an office or a car or even a restaurant. We authors need to look for settings that will do more than just host a scene, settings and props and clothing that will, even without the reader noticing, give our characters more depth.

There is so much to say on this topic that I could do another entire column on the use of specific, telling detail. I’d love to show you some of the scenes I’ve found that are so very well written. I’d love to rehash some of what Jonathan King had to say at the last conference. I may do some of those next month or I may move on. Regardless, please remember this: sensual awareness isn’t something that we do only when we write. We should be training ourselves to notice things - in real life, in books, in movies - things that we can later use when we sit down to craft a scene.

Until next month, BICHOK (Butt in Chair, Hands on Keyboard)

Jax (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)

(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2005.)

About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.

Scene Writing Series, Part IV - Setting, Part II

By Jax Hunter

Hello Campers,

Last month we talked about setting - the physical world in which our characters come to play. You’ll remember Bo Goldman’s list of things that go into the box (scene) that “jacks up the drama”: setting, weather, costuming, lighting, props, animals. Then we took a look at how some screenwriters set the stage in their scenes. 

Did you do your homework? How did that work for you? Is this mic on?

This month we’re going to add just a bit to the box by discussing character description. Remember that we’re looking at screenwriting, and in many ways screenwriters don’t describe their characters in the same way novelists do. I think we can learn a bit from them, nonetheless.

In Story Sense, Paul Lucey informs his audience that characters should be introduced in a sentence or two so as not to limit the casting choices. Not really a problem for novelists. Lucey then goes on to give numerous examples of how characters are first introduced in screenplays. We’ll do the same here.

Before I do that, though, I want you to think about your current characters. If you had to describe them in a sentence or two, how would you do it? Take a moment and give it a try. Off the cuff, here’s mine: Chris Gabriel is 6'4" tall with short, dark hair, grey eyes. He’s classically handsome and smiles readily. 

Wonderful, huh? 

Okay, take a look at some of these descriptions and then we’ll try again.

MUNNY [Clint Eastwood] is thirty-five or forty years old, his hair is thinning and his mustache droops glumly over his stubbled jaw. If it were not for his eyes he would look like any pig farmer with his canvas overalls tucked in his boots pushing on a hog. Unforgiven.

DR. HANNIBAL LECTOR [Anthony Hopkins] is lounging on his bunk, in white pajamas, reading an Italian Vogue. He turns, considers her. . . A face so long out of the sun, it seems almost leached – except for the glittering eyes, and wet red mouth. He rises smoothly, crossing to stand before her: the gracious host. His voice is cultured, soft. The Silence of the Lambs.

SAM BALDWIN [Tom Hanks] is in his thirties. His neck is pinched into a crisp dress shirt and tie. His expression is vacant, faraway. A breeze blows but he doesn’t react to it. Sleepless in Seattle.

A translator's words ring in the earpiece of a handsome man [Harrison Ford] in his mid-forties. Worry lines crease his forehead and the touch of gray at his temples attest to three very difficult years in office. This man is JAMES MARSHALL, and he is the PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Air Force One.

Riding along the road comes WILLIAM WALLACE [Mel Gibson]. Grown now, a man. He sits his horse as if born there, his back straight, his hands relaxed on the reins. He has a look of lean, rippled power. He looks dangerous. Braveheart.

MARION [MURRON] MacCLANNOUGH [Catherine McCormack], grown now into a stunning young woman; her long auburn hair reminds us of those years long ago; she wears it the same way, straight and full down her back. Her dress is plain, like the grass that surrounds a wildflower. She’s the most beautiful girl in the village, maybe in all of Scotland. Braveheart.

Wendell "BUD" WHITE [Russell Crowe], 30, stares at the enormous Christmas tree on the deco platform over Bullocks' entrance. An LAPD cop, Bud's rep as the toughest man on the force has been well earned. L.A. Confidential

Sgt. ED EXLEY [Guy Pierce], 30, bespectacled, is at the desk with a YOUNG OFFICER. Exley is an up-and-comer. Burning with ambition. The faster he rises through the ranks, the more resentment he leaves in his wake. L.A. Confidential

Her hair kerchiefed, LYNN BRACKEN [Kim Bassinger] waits as the Owner writes it up. There's glamour, a cat-girl grace about Lynn. She seems like she belongs up on the wall with the movie

stars. L.A. Confidential

LAPD Sgt. "Trashcan" JACK VINCENNES [Kevin Spacey], late 30s with slick, good looks, dances with a young ACTRESS. Grinding their way through a ballad, they're obviously hitting it off. L.A. Confidential

I find it interesting how some of these characters are described so much more fully than others, even in the same screenplay. In L.A. Confidential, we don’t have a clue what Bud looks like, but we see Vincennes with “slick, good looks." Exley gets even more with characterization in his. As I read through screenplays, it’s interesting to see that sometimes the writer give you a nice description of the character and at other times allows the character to show himself through his actions straightaway. Here’s an example:

A MAN idly walking around the building. He is BUTCH CASSIDY [Paul Newman] and hard to pin down. Thirty-five and bright, he has brown hair, but most people, if asked to describe him, would remember him as blond. He speaks well and quickly, and has been all his life a leader of men, but if you asked him, he would be damned if he could tell you why. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

But when it comes to introducing Sundance [Robert Redford], he only calls him MUSTACHED MAN. As you read the scene (it’s wonderfully done in the movie) it’s almost as if the writer wanted the reader to have the same reaction as the characters playing cards with Sundance. MUSTACHED MAN has been very quietly cleaning up at the tables. There are accusations of his cheating thrown about. If MUSTACHED MAN says anything at all, it’s very quiet, one or two words here or there. He ignores the accusation and simply stacks his chips carefully into piles. Finally, there’s the drawing of guns and threatening of MUSTACHED MAN, who just sits slumped in his chair sadly, his head down. Then BUTCH shows up and starts talking (that’s what he’s good at,) and all MUSTACHED MAN has to say is “I wasn’t cheating.”  

More words, more threats and a great shot of MUSTACHED MAN taking in his surroundings as he and BUTCH talk. Finally (ta-da) BUTCH says, “Can’t help you, Sundance,” and we have the shock, amazement and fear that comes when the rest of the characters - and the audience - find out who this MUSTACHED MAN is. 

All this done, with nothing more from the author than MUSTACHED MAN by way of introduction. The author just let Butch introduce his friend. Even then, the author simply says, “THE SUNDANCE KID, for that is the name of the MUSTACHED MAN. He sits slumped a moment more, his head down. Then he slowly raises his head. His eyes dazzle. He looks dead into MACON’s eyes. Still staring, he stands. He, too, wears guns.”

Can you do that in a novel? If you’re creative, you can. But, I’d be willing to bet that our author knew intimately what the MUSTACHED MAN looked like. He also knew how both Butch and Sundance moved, how they talked (or didn’t talk much). As novelists, of course, we have to get all that on paper. 

The key, again, as with setting is to use specific detail to describe characters. (If you want a complete course in making characters come alive - check out Margie Lawson’s Creating Character Emotions class) 

In closing, let me give you a taste of where we all want to be when describing characters. Here, from Jonathon King’s The Blue Edge of Midnight are some one-liners used to describe Murphy, the newsstand owner:

“He was a huge lump of a man who sat for hours at a time on a four-legged stool with what seemed like half of his weight dripping over the sides of the small circular cushion.”

“He had a fat face that folded in on itself like a two-week-old Halloween pumpkin and you couldn’t tell the color of his small slit eyes.” 

“He had a voice like gravel shuffling around in the bottom of a cardboard box.”

Okay, shall I try again on Chris? Chris was tall and lean, with dark, shortly cropped hair and silvery eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He had the look that guys got when charming old ladies. But on this man, it seemed to be second nature.

Homework assignment: Write in your books. Gasp, sob. Okay, I admit it, I write in my books. Not books I borrow, but books I own. I underline great writing, be it description or just fabulous wording. So, even if you don’t want to write in your books, you can still start “noting” great setting and character description. Feel free to even send it on to me for my files. 

If there’s a better way to learn how to write great fiction than to read great fiction, I don’t know what it is. 

                                                                                         
Until next month, when we’ll discuss Visual Storytelling, keep your butts in the chair and your hands on the keyboard - BIC-HOK. 

Jax (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)

(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2005.)

About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.

Scene Writing Series, Part III - Setting, Part I

By Jax Hunter

Greetings, Campers,

I hope you are all becoming much more aware of how your scenes are coming together.

Last month, I promised that we’d take a look at “set dressing.” Setting can range anywhere from the locale in which the scene takes place to the body language of the characters. It’s a subject that simply can’t be covered in one quick column. So, this month, we’ll look at the physical setting - the place and objects that go into each scene. Next month we’ll look at setting with regards to character. This, despite the fact that it is very difficult to analyze physical setting without talking about character. 

When leafing through my screenwriting books, I found two distinct uses of the word “setting.” First is the world created for your story - the time, place, and rules of the world your characters live in. 

Paul Lucey in Story Sense refers to this as the frame of the story. Not only does the frame include the time and place within which the story is set, it also includes the theme, mood, style and the “overall visual look of the movie.” A sci-fi thriller will have a completely different look and feel than a gothic romance will. Not only will the sets be different, even the language used to tell each story will differ. 

Second is what Bo Goldman listed as going into the box that makes up a scene: setting, weather, costuming, lighting, props, animals, whatever can “jack up the drama.”  (Again, Story Sense by Lucy.)

Keep my disclaimer in mind, though: We’re looking at the subject of setting from a screenwriting perspective. That automatically limits us. That which appears on the screen or stage is particularly visual. As novelists, we have many other tools we use to paint a picture. Sometimes, because of these tools at our disposal, we neglect the visual. 

I have a number of movie screenplays on my computer. I will share with you pieces of some of these in hopes that you’ll be inspired to look much more carefully at the dressing of your characters' surroundings. Oh, and I have an assignment for you, too. Stay tuned....

The key to great description - with regards to setting - is the use of specific detail. Michael Hauge in Writing Screenplays that Sell, says: “The particulars of appearance, attire, decor, attitude, and manner which convey the essence and the uniqueness of a character or setting are the ones to employ. Such attention to detail will create and enhance the movie in the reader’s mind and will contribute most strongly to his emotional involvement in each scene. 

Specific detail. Instead of a vase of flowers - an intricately etched crystal vase holding thirteen Brigadoon roses. Instead of a car in the garage - a hot, red Dodge Viper waiting in the bay of the spotless three-car garage. Instead of mounds of snow - mounds of dirty snow laying on slabs of ice. Instead of rain - a heaven-opened-on-our-head deluge, or a soft Scottish mist, or maybe rain just now turning to snow. We paint pictures with specific detail. 

An aside here to give you a fabulous example: "Gazing across the street at the egg-carton high-rise that partially obstructed her view of the mountains, Jackie spotted one of the few reliable signs of spring: dusty ficuses and elephant ferns crowding the screened balconies, hauled outside to bask in the sun. But the brilliant rays masked a nip to the air and the trees couldn’t decide whether to trust the calendar." (From Blind Spot by our own Stephanie Kane)

Without further ado, let’s look at how the screenwriters set the scene. Mind you, their form is different from ours, but they are still using the tools we all have - words - to set their stages. (For our purposes, I have not maintained proper screenplay formatting.)

FADE IN...

From KATE AND LEOPOLD

INT. HALLWAY - EVENING

Large hallway clock -- 6:15. A pair of boots track a freshly scrubbed floor as Leopold heads carelessly up the stairway. Three steps behind, the valet snaps his fingers signaling the staff to clean up the mess.

SERIES OF CLOSE UPS

Gaudily framed portraits of somber relations.

A bird sits listless in a gilded cage.

Hot water is poured into a bath.

Carriages begin to arrive.

Orchestra leader signals the musicians to play.

Guests fill the ballroom in formal attire.

From GOOD WILL HUNTING

INT. L STREET BAR & GRILLE, SOUTH BOSTON -- EVENING

The bar is dirty, more than a little run down. If there is ever a cook on duty, he's not here now. As we pan across several empty tables, we can almost smell the odor of last nights beer and crushed pretzels on the floor.

From LETHAL WEAPON

CITY OF ANGELS lies spread out beneath us in all its  splendor, like a bargain basement Promised Land.

CAMERA SOARS, DIPS, WINDS its way SLOWLY  DOWN,  DOWN, bringing us IN OVER the city as we:

SPIRAL DOWN TOWARD a lush, high-rise apartment complex. The moon reflected in glass.

CAMERA CONTINUES TO MOVE IN THROUGH billowing curtains, INTO the inner sanctum of a  penthouse  apartment,  and here, boys and girls, is where we lose our breath, because --

spread-eagled on a sumptuous designer sofa lies the single most beautiful GIRL in the city.      Blonde hair. A satin nightgown that positively  glows. Sam Cooke MUSIC, crooning from five hundred dollar SPEAKERS.

PASTEL colors. Window walls. New wave furniture tortured into weird shapes. It looks like robots live here. On the table next to the sleeping Venus lies  an open bottle of pills...next to that, a mirror dusted with cocaine.

From AIR FORCE ONE

INT. C-130 HERCULES TURBO-PROP - NIGHT

Eighteen combat-ready special forces, wearing assault black, jump packs and combat gear, stare down the deep end of a greasy ramp into the night sky. Village lights flicker 19,000 feet below.

The STRIKE FORCE LEADER signals to his team. Without a moment's hesitation, they dive into the darkness and plummet toward earth.

From BRAVEHEART

EXT. The SCOTTISH countryside - day

Epic beauty: cobalt mountains beneath a glowering purple sky fringed with pink, as if the clouds were a lid too small for the earth; a cascading landscape of boulders shrouded in deep green grass; and the blue lochs, reflecting the sky. We hear a voice, husky, Scottish...

VOICE OVER  I will tell you of William Wallace.

From L.A. CONFIDENTIAL

EXT. L.A. SKYLINE - SUNSET

Palm trees in silhouette against a cherry sky. City lights twinkle. Los Angeles. A place where anything is possible. A place where dreams come true. As the sky darkens, triple-kleig lights begin to sweep back and forth.

EXT. MANSION (HANCOCK PARK) - NIGHT

The KLEIG LIGHTS are out front. Valets hurry to park a line of elegant cars.

{Note from Jax - the Kleig lights are the old time spotlights used in old-time Hollywood - invented by the Kleig brothers - I had to look it up}

Okay, so there you have a starting point for thinking about your use of physical setting. Your assignment is this: the next scene you write - write it in screenplay format. Set the scene going in with over the top description. Describe everything - you can cut out the fat later. Then, briefly describe the action and write the dialogue. See if that makes the scene pop for you. 

Until next month - BIC-HOK (Butt in Chair - Hands on Keyboard)

Jax (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)

(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2005.)

About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.

Scene Writing Series, Part II - Scene Purpose

By Jax Hunter


Greetings, Campers.

Last month, we established that we’d be looking at the components of writing scenes. This month, we’ll be looking at the first priority: knowing the purpose of the scene.

Remember the quote I shared in the last article from behind the scenes of Spiderman 2: “You have to really know what you want beforehand or you’ll just throw together a lot of really mediocre stuff.” This is never more true than in the basics: what is the purpose of the scene?

Disclaimer of sorts: For examples this month, I grabbed my copy of Dan Brown’s DaVinci Code from the shelf. It’s a book that’s been widely read - that’s the only real reason I grabbed it. (I did enjoy it and I do think that Brown has a great way with short chapters and great chapter hooks.)

The purpose of the scene is not the same as the scene question. Remember, we have a story question - in the DaVinci Code the story question would be: Will Langdon solve the mystery of the murder of Sauniere? Along the way, each scene has it’s own scene question. For example, Will Langdon find the bug in the soap, or will Silas kill Langdon?

But these are internal story questions. What we want to focus on this month is the external purpose of every scene, the author’s objective in every scene.

In every scene, there should be a change, even if it’s nearly imperceptible. The characters or the situation they face should be different when they exit a scene than when they entered. It’s pretty simple, pretty straightforward. The devil, as they say, is in the details.

Every scene in the book should be either an action scene or a reaction scene. In action scenes, your character is pursuing a small goal, meeting conflict along the way and getting an answer to that goal. Hardly ever is the answer “yes.” Then, there’s no heightening of the tension, is there. Usually, the character comes out of the scene with, at best, a “yes, but.” More often, he’ll come away with a “no” or a “not no, but hell no.” Still, though, those would be the character’s purpose in the scene, not the author’s.

In a reaction scene, the characters stop for a moment to consider what has just happened, to the setback that has just occurred. Or, the world reacts to something your character has just done. Experts say there should be far more action scenes than reaction scenes.

We must not confuse this theory of action/reaction with the natural reactions of our characters within each scene. Jack Bickham in Scene & Structure talks about the natural progression of stimulus - internalization - and response. I’ve also heard this series referred to with action - feeling - thought - action. This internal scene sequence, though is a topic for another column.

The purpose of each scene is what links the scene to the spine of the novel. Each scene must either move the plot forward or show character. Ideally, each scene will do both.

While I won’t speak for Dan Brown, here are some examples from DVC (picked randomly.)

Prologue: Introduce Sauniere and the murder - hint at the enormity of the mystery.

Chapter 1, scene 1: Introduce Robert Langdon.

Chapter 1, scene 2: Introduce Langdon to the murder scene.

Chapter 55, scene 1: Introduce Teabing’s theory of what the Grail is - Sophie’s POV.

Chapter 56, scene 1: Continue previous scene from Langdon's POV.

Chapter 56, scene 2: (3 lines) Remy sees Langdon on the news.

Chapter 57, scene 1: Give Collet Langdon’s location. Scene 2, Silas closing in.

In Brown’s book especially, there is a vast amount of information that must be transferred to the reader. Often, this is the sole purpose for a scene. The author, then, must find dramatic ways to convey that information.

Often, I find myself writing a scene just because it comes next. I’m not clear going in on the purpose of that scene. I think that keeps things from truly being in focus for the reader. As storytellers, we need to paint only one picture at a time for our reader, paint it in clear detail so our reader sees what we see, hears what we hear. If that takes one sentence, so be it.

But, if we don’t know the purpose going in, we’ll throw in all that mediocre stuff. The result will be mediocre scenes that lack the punch they could have if we focused.

In my military romances, I have prologues which serve the purpose of showing the hero of that book in his work environment and, ideally, show foreshadow the torture I will be putting him through. I want the reader to know him in his “home” environment, which, in this case, is within the Air Force para-rescue setting.

Paul Lucey in Story Sense says this: “Do not write the scene until you are satisfied with the plot and the story point that must be made in the beat.”

It seems like some of the best scenes I write are those which are out of order. A scene will build up in my head (more often my heart) until I just have to write it, even though it’s not the next scene in the book. These scenes tend to have the clear focus that some of my other scenes lack. These scenes tend to wring every emotion from inside me, emotions that end up on the page where they belong. Often, they aren’t long. That may be because they are gathered and strengthened and aimed before they’re allowed to be shot.

No mixed metaphors here.

Again, Lucey, “When the point of a scene is unclear, the thread of the story will be frayed or broken, causing confusion.”

Colorado author Stephanie Kane, in her workshop on designing scenes, teaches that we should be playing to the jury (our readers). In order to do that, we must, going in, know what response we want from the reader. Then, we can craft each scene with that purpose in mind. Do we want the reader on the edge of their seat here? In tears? Laughing? Or, maybe just resting so we can deliver an unforeseen right hook on the next page.

For now, if we can, at the very least, think about each scene in light of it’s purpose, we’ll be on the road to better scenes. And better scenes make better stories. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.)

Until next month, when we take a look at set dressing, BIC-HOK (Butt in Chair - Hands on Keyboard).

Jax (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)

(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2005.)

About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.

Introduction to Scene Writing

By Jax Hunter

Greetings fellow storytellers. I’d like to welcome you to a new series of articles on scene writing. 

As you guys know, I love movies. Yes, I love books, as well, but I’m fascinated with movie making. When DVD’s first became available, the thing that sold me on them was the extra stuff. It was the “making of” extras that really had me at hello.  

Recently, I got to spend almost an entire Saturday with Spiderman 2. I think this was my favorite of the Spidey movies. Certainly, it was better than the first - much better, in fact. Spidey was more Spidey in this one. But what was amazing was that the “making of” features were as long as the movie. I came away not only excited about what a “spidey cam” could do, but even more, with some inspiration from director Sam Raimi and his crews. 

He spoke about getting the most from the actors, the sets, the script. His job, as he views, it is to raise the characters to be heroic, to push, pull and cajole them to heroism, to trust, to love, to honor. Wow! As a director, he works hard to bring out the best performance of the actor, to create the lighting and the sets and the vision. He tells Tobey “you’re my partner in creating this character.”

This vision can be applied to what we as writers do, as well. It’s our job to bring out the very best performance from our characters, our settings, from every word that makes it to the page. I came away from listening to those interviews with a renewed dedication to, in each scene, be the “best director” I can be.

Another movie I recently watched again was Timeline. Again, I love the “making of” features from this movie. The thing that struck me in the extras from that movie was the amazing job of script supervisor (Sioux Richards). She’s the one that, among many other things, has to make sure that the details are right from one scene to the next. What hand was the coffee cup in, etc. There’s a very funny scene in one of the extras in which Sioux gets on Paul Walker because he went to Hawaii in the middle of production and now doesn’t “match” his last scene. This is another thing we as writers must keep track of. But I digress.

Back to the topic at hand: writing great scenes. Last year we took a look at the bigger structure of stories from a screenwriting perspective. We looked at three act structure, turning points, plot twists and outlining. In this series, we’re going to get down and dirty and study what makes a good scene. 

The scene is the basic unit of story. (Some might argue that there’s an even more basic unit, called a bit or a beat, but we’ll stick with this definition.) Robert McKee (STORY) defines a scene this way: “A SCENE is an action through conflict in more or less continuous time and space that turns the value-charged condition of a character’s life on at least one value with a degree of perceptible significance. Ideally, every scene is a STORY EVENT.” If you had to re-read that more than once, you’re not alone. I love McKee, but sometimes he’s a bit obtuse, don’t you think?

Frankly, I’m a tad overwhelmed by all that goes into a scene. Trying to remember everything is a bit like juggling. I tend to rush through scenes, not savoring the details, or at least not letting the reader savor the details. I tend to not squeeze every drop of emotion from the characters, to not think about all the bits and pieces - hence my determination to learn to do better. 

In Story Sense, author Lucey tells of Bo Goldman’s advice to writers to think of their scenes as a box into which all the ingredients of the scene go. Setting, weather, costuming, lighting, props, animals, whatever can “jack up the drama.” The life, as they say, is in the details. So this year we’ll look at what we have available to go into the box. What needs to be in the box. 

Lucey also states that “a primary cause of weak scripts is the failure of scenes to make their dramatic point in an unequivocal manner.” I suppose he could have stopped with the failure of scenes. As storytellers, we simply must get everything we can from each scene. Or why bother writing it at all? 

Unlike books, movies are pretty much limited to the visual. We can’t get inside the characters heads like we can in books. On the other hand, we’re constantly reminded as writers to show not tell. I believe it might be helpful to look at each scene as if we would be putting it on the screen. 

So this year, we’ll look at setting, beats, opening and closing values, subtext and a whole lot more. As much as possible, we’ll take what we learn from the film industry. I won’t guarantee, though, that Bickham won’t sneak in on occasion. Next month we’ll look at the importance of knowing clearly the purpose of each scene before writing it. 

 One of the FX staff on the set of Spiderman 2 said this: “You have to really know what you want beforehand or you’ll just throw together a lot of really mediocre stuff.” Wow. Don’t want to just throw out mediocre stuff, do we?

One quick thing here. I want to pass on my favorite screenplay site. There, you can download screenplays for a good variety of movies. In these, you can see how the writer “dressed” each scene. Here it is: http://www.script-o-rama.com./oldindex.shtml.

Until next month, BICHOK (Butt in Chair, Hands on Keyboard)

Jax (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)

(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2005.)

About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.