Mary Rosenblum, your web editor, has published three SF novels, four mysteries, and more than 60 short stories in multiple genres, as well as nonfiction! She also teaches writing, and has for many years. Most recently, her SF short story, ‘Tracker’ appeared  in ‘Asimov’s Magazine’ and ‘Jumpers’ will appear in the June issue of SciFiction Magazine.

 

The Scene:  Story Arc in Miniature

By Mary Rosenblum

 

           

            Scenes.  You hear the word all the time. You know what scenes are… they are the components of a story.  Yes. Right.  But what makes up those scenes?  What is the beginning? Where do they end?  How do you decide what goes into this scene and where that scene begins?   What is a scene anyway? 

 

            A scene is a sequence of actions that take place from a single point of view, during a particular period of time, in a particular place.  For example, our main character, a young teen named Ras, is sent to clean the barn by his father.  While he is mucking out the cattle stalls, the neighbor’s daughter, Amy, slips in to tease him, and flirt with him.  Ras is madly in love with her and stops his work to talk.  She slips away as Ras’s father appears to yell at his son for his ‘laziness’, and Ras is left torn between anger at his father and the pangs of his love for Amy.  The scene begins when Ras’s father sends him off to the barn, continues as he shovels manure and then flirts with Amy, and ends when his father stomps off, leaving Ras with his pitchfork and emotions. 

 

            New Time or  Place: New Scene

 

            Our next scene might begin with Ras in the kitchen, asking his mother why his father is so dissatisfied with everything he does.  As he sets the table and helps his mother get the meal ready, they talk.  This is a new time and place – later in the day and in the kitchen, so it is a new scene.   When the place changes, we have begun a new scene. Of course you character might be traveling on a journey.  As long as we are moving with the character at his or her pace, and not leaping ahead, we are in one scene.  The members of a caravan might be arguing about the upcoming fork in the road as they cross a dangerous river.  This is all one scene.  But when you leap forward to the fork in the road two days later, we are in a new place and this is a new scene. 

 

            But what if our next scene also takes place in the barn?  What if we leap ahead to the middle of the night.  Ras comes creeping into the barn to play his flute where his father can’t hear it, since his father has forbidden him to play music.  Isn’t this the same scene, since we’re still in the barn?  What if we make camp for the night and then continue on the same path?   Isn’t this the same scene, since we’re on the same trail with the same people?   No, it is not.  We have shifted forward from evening, as our main character goes to sleep or sits up at the campfire keeping watch, to morning.  Whenever we shift ahead in time, or back in a flashback, we begin a new scene.

 

            POV Shift

 

            If we are writing in omniscient point of view, where we simply skip from head to head every time the plot demands it, there is no need to begin a new scene when the point of view shifts.  But omniscient point of view is inherently a weak point of view and works best with strongly plot driven stories, where characters don’t really matter.  But if you are working on a novel length work or simply using multiple point of view in a short story, changing Point of View at a scene break will help your reader make a clear transition between characters.  Since a shift in Point of View may not be a clear enough transition to catch the reader’s notice, it is a good idea to include either a change in time or place in order to make that scene break clear to the reader.  

 

            For more information of creating strong transitions, read Getting From Here to There : Transitions  in Writing Craft: The Plot Thickens.

 

            Dramatic Arc in Miniature

 

            A scene is essentially a  small dramatic arc – the same dramatic arc that shapes your story as a whole.  Ideally, every scene begins at a certain level of tension, rises to at least a minor climactic peak, and then transitions to the next scene.  Of course you do now want a life and death climax in every scene or your story will take on the extreme of melodrama. But even a quiet scene set in the kitchen can have its small peak of climax.  For example, Geri and Peter are having breakfast.  We open with Geri punching toast into the toaster, obviously tense for some reason.  When Peter casually asks what is wrong, Geri snaps at him and that provokes him.  The scene peaks with a brief interchange that reveals Geri’s suspicions that Peter is having an affair.  Peter leaves for work without comment and Geri faces the dishes with a growing resolve to find out for sure. 

 

            Here, the climax of the mini-dramatic arc is the angry interchange between Geri and Peter.  It is a significant peak compared to the opening scene of morning coffee and toast, and it drops off to Geri doing dishes and making her resolve.  That resolve – which we assume will be acted upon – leads us into the next scene.  We want to find out what she will actually do, so we keep reading.  That is what a good scene does when it ends – it leaves the reader a case of curiosity.  What will happen next?  What will she do? And we read on.

 

The Strong Scene: The Rule of Three

 

            We know that a scene is a single stretch of time, in a single place, with a single point of view.  We know that it should have a dramatic arc.  Is that it?  What makes one scene stronger than another?  How do we write a strong scene?

 

            A strong scene should do three things:

 

                         It should advance the plot.

                         It should deepen the characterization.  

                         It should enrich the scene.

 

             Now if your scene does two of these three things, then it will work, although it won’t be as strong as it might be.  If your scene only does one of these three things, then you need to revise the scene so that it does more.   Let’s look at our breakfast scene.  We are obviously advancing the plot as Geri voices her suspicions that Peter is having an affair, and Peter refuses to either confirm or deny it.  We can enrich the scene by giving the reader visual details of the kitchen and the two characters.  And of course, we are deepening the characterization of both Geri and Peter, as we learn about Geri’s insecurities about Peter’s love.  We gain some insight into Peter as he avoids the confrontation and simply retreats.   This is a strong scene.  It has fulfilled the Rule of Three.  

 

            Setting can be particular challenge when your character is engaged in action or when the scene includes a lot of dialogue.  Action tags as part of dialogue can create a vivid setting in the reader’s mind’s eye. If your character is preoccupied, under stress, or involved in crisis action, remember that vivid verbs and a sprinkling of strong, vivid adjectives can bring the scene to life for the reader without slowing the pace of the scene, or interfering with the characterization.  Action tags are also a great way to avoid using that pesky word ‘said’.  Let’s look at our kitchen scene.

 

            “’Morning.”  Peter sat down at the table as Geri poured steaming coffee into his cup. “Sleep well?”

            “No.”  Geri punched bread into the toaster and clattered a pan onto the burner.  “We’re out of eggs.  Want plain bacon?”

            “I’ll get something downtown.”  Peter sipped his coffee, squinting against the bright light pouring in through the big window. Nice day,” the thought.  Lawn already looked ragged. He’d mow, after work. 

 

            This early in our scene, our characters haven’t started fighting yet, and Peter can look around and notice things.  (We’re in his POV here).  We see steaming coffee, we see bread, a toaster, a pan on a stove.  Now each of us is going to see a different kitchen, but we’re going to see the same basics.  As the sun streams in through the window, we broaden our landscape to add a ragged lawn visible through that big window.  Even though our characters are talking here, we are still able to see the setting.

 

            A few bits of vivid detail can bring a scene to life for us in an action scene.  For example:  Charles marched down the puddle alley past overflowing garbage cans and broken toys, scattering mangy stray cats.   We see that wet pavement, and all the shabby clutter of an alley with those reeking garbage cans and furtive cats.  We see a lot more than if the author had simply written:  Charles marched down the alley.   Those few specific details will help bring that alley to life.

 

Three and an Arc

 

            So our scene, to be a good scene, should follow our Rule of Three and advance the plot, deepen the characterization, and enrich the scene.  It should have some sort of dramatic arc – a rise to a least a small climax point before the transition to the next scene.  If it does both these things, then yes, it is a strong scene.