Learning is a lifelong pursuit, and as a writer, any bit of knowledge is useful. My educational background is in broadcasting and mass communications, and writing is something I’ve taught myself over the (many) years. Perhaps this is one reason why I find Life, the Universe, and Everything (LTUE) so valuable.
LTUE is a science fiction and fantasy writing convention held in Provo, Utah. I was fortunate enough to attend one day last year, and just last week I attended Thursday and Saturday. The classes were amazing, and I learned a lot, and not just about the act of writing. I attended classes on editing, storytelling through board games, and even on voice action (for podcasts and audiobooks). Of course, I did attend classes that discussed the finer things of writing as well, but the plethora of information at LTUE is incredible. I highly recommend finding a writing convention and attending. Even if you’re not a writer, there are bound to be classes you can benefit from (such as the panel on writing battle scenes in which the panelists didn’t say much about writing at all, and instead talked about their experiences in combat).
While I could go on ad nauseam about all I learned, I’m going to only discuss three things that stood out to me.
Enter Late, Leave Early
No, I’m not talking about parties (although I’m sure this also applies there). When writing scenes -especially the first scene in a book – it’s best to enter the scene late and leave early. But what does that mean, exactly? For starters, instead of starting the story with the character waking up, eating breakfast, and running out the door late for work, cut out all that unimportant information and begin the narrative when the character jumps out of the still-moving bus to stop a mugging. Or something. Of course, you don’t have to start your books or scenes with action, but make sure you begin with something to hook the reader and will drive the plot forward.
With improv comedy, we always talk about what makes a scene so important. “Why are we seeing this moment?” Is it because Mary handed Steve a crowbar to smash in the windows of a car that double parked him? Or is it because Mary thinks the solution to life’s problems is with a crowbar? Yes, the fact that Steve was handed a crowbar to smash out a car’s window is important, but the focus is on Mary’s behavior. That’s the thing that will drive the scene. So whether you have your character jumping out of a moving bus or confronting a coworker about using all the staples without replacing them, make sure your scene starts on something important.
Likewise, when to get out of the scene is just as important. If the main character is jumping out of the bus, stops the mugging, and then talks with the person while he waits for another bus and chews on a stick of gum, we’re not getting much out of the scene. Or if our character confronts his coworker about the staple incident, resolves (or doesn’t resolve) the issue, and we see him back at his desk writing up a report on his coworker…that’s stuff we don’t need to see. Get in to a scene, get out, and trim the fat so everything your reader reads has value.
Going back to my improv example, the best time to cut a scene is after a big laugh. End on a high note. Doing so will leave the audience feeling satisfied. If the scene goes on for another thirty seconds with a chuckle or two from the audience before the MC closes the scene, the momentum has died and the effect won’t be as pronounced. Timing is everything.
Subplots
I was fortunate enough to be in the room where Brandon Sanderson and David Farland sat on a panel discussing subplots. Subplots allow the book’s momentum to continue even if the main characters are failing. I love a good subplot, but I find those the most difficult to write. A few tips from the pros on writing subplots:
- Have three reasons for each scene
- Subplots allow the writer to explore the world in greater depth
- Subplots humanize your characters
- Write subplots that help your characters change
- Make sure the subplot doesn’t feel like a waste of time
- Have subplots play to your characters’ strengths and weaknesses
There was a ton more I gleaned from this panel, but these stick out to me as some of the most important things. Crafting a good subplot will strengthen many aspects of your book. Find what needs to happen to your characters to have them change, and see if a well-written subplot will get the job done.
Battle Scenes
I love a good battle sequence. Writing them, however, can be a rather difficult task. When I first started writing, all my battle scenes consisted of blow-by-blow description, as if I was writing down the choreography so someone could reenact it on stage. Don’t do this! The blow-by-blow can be so boring. Here’s an example of what I mean…
Arthur swung to the left, and Steve brought his sword up to parry. The swords hit, then pulled apart as Arthur went in for another attack, this time swinging around for Steve’s left thigh. Steve jumped backwards, landing on first his left foot, then his right. Arthur pressed the attack, swinging his sword left, then right again. All Steve could do was stagger backwards. Steve tripped over a rock with his left foot, falling to the ground. Steve jumped quickly to his feet, then lunged forward, thrusting his sword into Arthur’s hip. Arthur fell, dropping his sword and clutching his wound with his left hand.
Let’s face it, nobody cares which direction Arthur swings his sword. Is it important to know where Arthur was stabbed? Possibly. If it is, feel free to include it. So how do you write an engaging battle scene, you ask?
With emotion. Reaction. As was mentioned at LTUE, don’t write the parts people skip. As a reader, I don’t care much about the choreography. I care about the characters. Describing the first action, even the second action, in a battle scene is fine. But after that…don’t. In combat (according to those who have actually been in combat), everything’s a blur. Battles are emotional. Let’s take the above example and make it a little better, shall we?
Arthur stalked towards Steve, drawing his sword from his sheath. Arthur’s eyes locked with Steve’s, and the two men circled each other, neither saying a word. Waves broke against the shore nearby, the intermittent crashing like symbols announcing the arrival of imminent doom. Breathing heavily, Arthur tried to calm himself. Lashing out would get himself killed; he needed to stay focused. Steve’s piercing gaze burned into Arthur’s soul. Was he really going to attack his friend? Steve grinned, and something snapped in Arthur’s mind.
He lunged at Steve, bringing his sword around to strike at the man’s unguarded head. Steve was faster, and blocked the blow with ease. With cat-like movements, Steve pushed Arthur back and pressed the attack. Swords clashed with sounds of screaming steel. Hot rage burned inside Arthur as he fought desperately to subdue his opponent.
The sounds of crashing waves disappeared as Arthur roared in anger. With renewed strength, he pressed on the attack, forcing Steve to stagger backwards. The salty sea mixed with the scent of his own dripping sweat, but Arthur didn’t pause to wipe his brow. Steve’s eyes grew wide as he realized Arthur meant business. Arms aching from the fight, Arthur forced himself to strike harder. Steve fell backwards, tripping over the uneven ground.
Victory was his! With Steve on the ground, he was as good as dead. All feelings of elation flipped to fear, however, as Steve pushed himself back to his feet, lunging at Arthur as he righted himself. Caught off guard, Arthur tried to block the attack, but Steve was too fast. Arthur fell to the ground in a flash of agony as Steve’s sword rammed into his thigh. Clutching the wound with his free hand, Arthur looked up into the eyes of his former friend. There was no sign of mercy in his dark brown eyes.
“I didn’t eat your last donut,” Steve said, breath surprisingly even.
Alright, so that got a little long…or did it? What was different about this example compared with the first? Be aware, I just went off the top of my head with no edits, so it’s not perfect. But this second example focused on the feelings, scents, and sounds of the scene. Did you feel more connected to the action? Did you feel the conflict within Arthur? I could have built that conflict up better (and if I went back to edit it, I most certainly would), but in the second example, things were a bit more personal. This fight mattered.
Anyway, there were a lot of wonderful lessons learned at LTUE, and I wish I had more time to give you a full rundown of my thoughts. Again, writing conferences are an amazing resource for writers and editors. Aside from writing help, it’s an effective place to network, too. I spoke with one editor following her presentation to 1) thank her for the information, and 2) to ask her more about what it takes to become an editor (which is something I’m looking more deeply int0 pursuing). She gave me good advice, and said I could email her for the slides she used. In another class (voice acting), the presenter wanted all in attendance to email him and let him know what our goals and obstacles were in recording audio books, podcasts, and the like. He was very willing to help out, which is a resource that is quite difficult to come by without having these personal interactions with the pros.
Whenever you have a chance to learn more about your craft, take that opportunity seriously. As Howard Tayler said during LTUE, “Don’t throw away information.” It all ends up in your work. Be a lifelong learner, and you will always have the wherewithal to write the stories you want to write.