Long Ridge Writers Group

Mary Rosenblum, Long Ridge Web Editor, has published more than sixty short stories in multiple genres, as well as Science Fiction novels and a mystery series. She also teaches writing and conducts writing workshops. Her most recent story: Tracker appears in the May 2004 issue of Asimov’s Magazine. Her story Jumpers will appear in the SciFiction Magazine in June.

Run, Don’t Walk. Ratcheting up Tension and Pace

By Mary Rosenblum

Let’s begin at the beginning. What exactly are tension and pace? Think of tension as a rubber band that pulls on us as we read. As the tension increases, that rubber band pulls us to the edge of our seats, riveted to the action on the page. As it relaxes, we sag back onto the sofa and enjoy the scenery in your world, really noticing those delicate drops of dew and the exquisite colors of the birds’ plumage.

Pacing is the speed at which we feel that we are traveling through your story. When the heroine is chased by the hungry dragon we are racing along. As the lovers stroll along the beach we follow languidly, dabbling our toes in the foamy lace of the wavelets. Controlling tension and pace is a matter of craft. Your deliberate choice of words, the amount of description you include, and the types of verbs you use will all affect pacing and tension.

Sorry, I didn’t see you. I’m about to die!

Let’s start with that dramatic scene. The dragon is chasing our heroine. The young elf faces three trolls armed with swords and thirsting for his life’s blood. The young boy turns a corner on the lonely road and finds the three bullies waiting for him. In two of these scenes, our character will probably flee. Our elf may take on the sword wielding trolls and fight for his life.

Of course the situation makes it clear that this is a tense scene. But all too often, novice writers provide their readers with unintentional chuckles in this type of situation. Let’s look at a pair of scenes here. We are in the Point of View of our character, which means the scene is filtered through his or her perceptions. Let’s begin with our elf. We’ll name him Arren.

Arren pulled out his sword. Silver light ran down the blade and the gems in the hilt flashed with green and white fire. The nearest troll lunged at him, fast for all his bulk, the two handed sword with the blood red runes on the hilt singing a deep throated song as it sliced the air. Arren beat the blade aside, leaping nimbly backward over the twisted tree roots. Shade and sun dappled the ground and the scent of the crushed herbs underfoot added a pungent note to the air. A bird fluttered squawking from the blooming gorse bush as the other two trolls closed in from the side, intending to trap him against the huge old oak. But Arren knew that trick. How many times had Master Donart put his students into the same situation? Almost without thought, Arren leaped for the branch high overhead. Catching it, he kicked off from the oak’s sturdy trunk, somersaulting over the heads of the confused trolls, his blade flashing like silver in the light, oak leaves brushing his face with the feel of fingers. He landed lightly on his feet and danced back out of reach, ready for the next charge. Nothing stood between him and the river cliff now but clumps of blooming gorse, thick with bees. With the Lady’s help, he might yet survive.

We have a fight scene here. Arren is outnumbered and in a desperate situation. This is clearly a peak of conflict and obviously a tense and dramatic scene. Or is it? To an editor, this is a slow read, a flawed scene. Why? Let’s look at a second version of this scene.

Arren pulled out his sword and silver light ran down the blade. The nearest troll lunged at him, fast for all his size, his two-handed sword singing a deep throated song as it sliced the air. Arren beat the blade aside and leaped backward. The other two closed in from the side. They meant to trap him against the huge oak behind him. Arren leaped, grabbing an overhead limb with one hand, kicking hard off the trunk. Sky and grass fled past and then he landed hard on his feet, behind the trolls. Bless Master Donart for that trick. He danced out of reach as they charged. Nothing between him and the cliffs now. Lady willing, he might live.

Compare these two scenes. Our second scene has more energy, reads faster, and is indeed shorter. The pace is much brisker and there is more tension here. Why? What is different?

Our second scene contains much less description. Remember that you are filtering the scene through your character’s perceptions. Think about Arren for a moment. He is about to die. He can’t defeat three armed trolls, not without a lot of luck. But he’s not going to give up. He is totally focused on survival. He doesn’t even think about ‘twisted tree roots’. He simply hops over a bump under his feet. He’s busy watching that deadly blade. The blood red runes on the hilt, the flash of gems on his own sword hilt…these are invisible to him. He might notice them if he was standing around chatting with the trolls, but he’s hardly chatting. He won’t take his eyes or his mind off this fight for life.

When he realizes that he can reach the cliff and apparent safety, he is only going to focus on the space between as an obstacle. Anything to jump over? To dodge? The gorse may be blooming and thick with bees, but he could care less. That is something he can run through so there is no reason to waste a precious second on thinking about it. His mind is much too full of plans for escape to bother with bees and blossoms.

Yes, every one of the details we removed from that first scene add to the richness of this scene. But at the same time, they slow the pace and dilute the tension. Our main character can’t really be in danger if he can stop to notice the blooming gorse and pay attention to the sound of birds. So we relax. The rubber band slackens and we sag back onto our sofa. Perhaps we even put the book aside to go get a cup of tea. This is not how you want your reader to react when you put your character’s life on the line. Save the details for a more relaxed scene. Yes, they are nice, specific bits of description and they add to the scene. They simply don’t belong here.

That is one of the most important parts of craft – learning what to take out and what must remain in the story. This isn’t something to worry about in your first draft. Go ahead and put all that nice description in. Just plan to evaluate it when you do your first revision and to make some tough decisions about what to keep and what to remove.

We face the same problem in first person Point Of View, and this is an even more critical situation. Let’s look at our young girl and her encounter with the dragon.

Old Donally sent me out to find wild peas for the inn table, though why he thinks they’re going to be ready this early beats me. He just wants an excuse to beat me, he’s in that kind of mood. Maybe I’ll stay out till dusk then. If he’s going to beat me anyway, why not? I go around this rock and there’s this cave. I stop and look at it and already, I can smell it – the sulfury reek of dragon’s breath. Oh, Goddess! Time to get out of here fast. I start running, but quietly. It’s daylight, and the thing might be asleep. It’s so quiet and I realize I haven’t seen any sheep around here and there are usually sheep. Now I know why. I wish I’d paid attention to that earlier. Too late, now! I hear it behind me, must be coming out of the cave. There’s this dry slithery noise and I’m scared to look back and then there’s this whoosh and dust is flying and a shadow passes over me and I drop the basket and dive into this crack between a couple of rocks. Won’t help me. The thing can burn me in there. But I guess that’s better than getting grabbed like a rabbit.

Our character is strolling along when she spots the cave. She is describing events as she flees. The present tense gives this the feel of ‘immediate first person’. This isn’t the character as an old woman, telling us about something that happened to her long ago from the safety of her armchair. This is the character’s train of thought as she strolls through the wasteland and then stumbles on the dragon’s lair. Readers get a good sense of her voice as she describes the situation. So is this the right amount of tension for this scene? Is the pace brisk enough? Well, let’s compare this to another version.

This is the same ‘immediate’ first person and it starts, if you’ll notice, with exactly the same words as our first version. But once our character spots the cave, this second version diverges from the first. Remember, we are filtering the scene through the character’s perceptions. If you open a shed door and a humming wasp nest tumbles down onto your head, what are your thoughts as you flee? Do you have any at all? Do you think in long, relaxed sentences? Or are your thoughts something more along the lines of ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! Since this is fiction and a long, garbled scream is rather boring, we emulate it in a more interesting way. Notice how once she perceives her danger, her thoughts quickly become broken fragments. She is no longer thinking very coherently and grammar goes out the window. These are desperate thoughts that flash into her head -- Gonna grab me like a rabbit! – and that broken rhythm gives us the sense of breathless exertion. That breathless rhythm and her desperate tone give the scene a lot of tension and make readers feel as if they are running along with her.

Of course, in a desperate action scene like our dragon chase or our sword fight, you simply cannot include a lot of description. If you want the reader to see the scene of the action clearly, you will have to find a way to give your Viewpoint character the leisure to look at it before the action starts. Mare sure we see it clearly before that character starts getting tense.

Writing Craft - The Plot Thickens