Action sequences

It occurred to me just now, while thinking about something else, that I still don't really have any idea about how to write an action scene.

How, at the sentence-structure level, do you achieve that sense of vivid fast-moving physical activity? Combat, chase scenes—I'm tempted to throw in sex scenes, but I think that generally calls for a rather different approach.

We did an exercise at the SH workshop two weekends ago about sentence length; that can be pretty effective in establishing rhythms. But I think it's not the whole story.

Mark Hoover's "Slugball" was probably the first story we received in which the action sequences really grabbed us—the story moves right along, bam bam bam, and kept our attention the whole way through. You'd think that after line-editing it I'd have a better grasp on the details of what makes it tick, but I don't think I do.

Part of it, I'm pretty sure, is verb choice. A lot of good active-sounding verbs—tumbled, exploding, screaming, burst, streaked, shattering, ripping, lurched, barking, yelping, skittered, leapt; and that's all in the first six paragraphs of the real action starting. But they're not just action verbs, they're the right action verbs; it's very easy to overdo it, throwing in lots of frenetic verbs that only serve to make the writing sound goofy.

Sentence length doesn't seem to have much to do with it. But maybe sentence complexity does; the more convoluted a sentence, the more sentence structure the reader has to hold in their head as they wade through the sentence, the more extra clauses and phrases and circuitous circumlocutions and unnecessary verbiage the author has provided, the slower (in general) the sentence may seem, until at a certain point the reader finds that they have ground entirely to a halt, losing all forward momentum in a welter of words.

And of course level of diction is part of that too—though you'd think using brief simple Anglo-Saxon words would lead to faster action, but Mark uses words like "oscillating" and "gyration" and gets away with it.

I thought paragraph length might be relevant; Mark has a lot of short paragraphs. But he also has a fair number of longer ones, and those don't impede the action.

The few times I've tried to write action scenes, I've generally gotten mired in the mechanics and blocking of what the characters were doing. I can picture the still images, I can describe the discrete actions, but getting the sense of flow, of momentum, is tough.

I've talked with a couple of martial-artist writers recently about related stuff: how to describe a martial-arts scene in a way that's true to the art (and that practitioners of the art will appreciate) but that doesn't get bogged down in describing in intricate detail every last motion. One of them said something to the effect that an action scene shouldn't take longer to read than the action would take to occur.

Any thoughts?

6 Responses to “Action sequences”

  1. Jenn Reese

    Since I’m over 65K into my kungfu action novel, I have *a lot* to say on this topic. I don’t know if I’m doing a good job yet, but here are some of the things I try to keep in mind:

    – Timing, rhythm, short sentences, action verbs, sentence fragments, lots of paragraph breaks.

    – Not getting hung up on describing every tiny movement, but focusing on the action that has (in Bruce Lee’s words) “emotional content.” (Frex: Instead of “She punched at his chest and twisted her wrist at the last moment so the knife in her hands sliced into his flesh,” I have “Slash, slash. Two bloody gashes across his chest.” Still lapses into the overly technical mode a lot though.)

    – Making sure the POV character doesn’t lapse into lengthy bouts of self-reflection.

    – Making sure the POV character is tense, scared, angry, etc. – if she never emotes during the fight, I think it’s less engaging for the reader.

    – One or more interesting setting, opponent, high-stakes situation, weapons, etc.

    – Personal relevance of the fight. (It’s not as much fun to kill a wandering monster as the man who murdered your father.)

    I have had a lot of trouble finding a balance between using the technical names for punches and kicks versus describing them. I’ve had to change a lot of my fights because the best move isn’t easy to describe, or isn’t visually impressive when I write it. (A lot of the most powerful joint locks just don’t translate well.)

    I’d love to talk about this all day. 🙂

  2. Jed

    Thanks, Jenn! I was hoping you’d comment. I’m particularly intrigued by the notion of focusing on the action that has emotional content; I like that a lot. A new paradigm for me; thank you!

    …And I think it relates to something I picked up in another context: sometimes it’s more effective to describe the results of an action than the action itself. You can say “The door slammed behind him” and you don’t have to explicitly mention that he’s left the room. (Okay, that’s not such a good example, since “He slammed the door” is generally better than “the door slammed.” But it’s the first example that came to mind, and I’m in a rush, so I’ll leave it.)

  3. Jenn Reese

    I almost said that, about focusing on the results more than the action itself. But I’m particularly bad at not doing that in my sex scenes. (Stupid sex scenes.)

  4. Nick Mamatas

    Katherine Dunn’s bout descriptions in her boxing reportage.

    ’nuff said.

  5. David Moles

    Mostly I’m with Jenn — don’t focus on the mechanics, focus on the way it makes the character feel. But it does depend on the tone you want to take, I think.

    In conventional limited third person, it doesn’t make much sense to get too detailed because when you’re actually fighting you rarely have time to think in detail about what you’re doing — you see that something’s open, and you hit it, or you see that something’s coming, and you block it or dodge it.

    When things are going well, at any rate. 🙂

    On the other hand, folks like Zelazny and Brust, writing either in a conversational first-person past-tense (as in the Amber books or the Jhereg books) or in a more distant third (as in Lord of Light or the Khaavren romances), can get away with being a little more detailed and specific, because it’s more in the nature of after-the-fact reportage, when the character or the narrator has had time to reflect.

    Like everything else, It All Depends.

  6. David Moles

    You know what kind of scenes drive me nuts? Scenes where I have to describe a couple of characters walking across a room, pouring glasses of water, scratching their noses — scenes where I have to find something to break up the conversation, scrape up some verbs other than “said.”

    You can tell I’m slacking when my characters spend a lot of time looking up and looking away and shrugging and smiling.

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