Authors: Jordan Rosenfeld
Here's an example of a revelation that comes at the end of a dialogue scene from Richard Russo's novel
Empire Falls.
In this exchange between protagonist Miles and his curmudgeonly screw-up of a father, Max, a piece of information is revealed that tells the reader a lot about the characters and affects the plot.
Miles has never understood why his father never protested his mother's affair with one of the town's wealthy founders, Charlie Whiting—whose family Miles is still in service to as a result. Max has gone missing, disappearing from town with a mentally addled priest and some church funds, and he calls his son on the phone from Florida to let him know he's okay. Max and Miles quickly get into one of their customary arguments, but this time, the argument comes with a revelation:
Why shouldn't he have a little fun? was what Max wanted to know, since they were asking questions. "Old men like to have fun too, you know. Down here, people like old men."
"Why?"
"They don't say," Max admitted. "Tom hears confessions every afternoon at the end of the bar. You should see it."
"That's terrible, Dad."
"Why? Think about it."
"It's sacrilegious."
"Your mother really messed you up, you know that?"
And that was all it took, just the one mention of Grace, and suddenly the question was out before Miles could consider the wisdom of asking it.
"How come you never told me about Mom and Charlie Whiting, Dad?"
Max reacted as if he'd been expecting the question for years. "How come you never told
me,
son?"
The spoken revelation here is that not only did Max know about his wife's affair, he knew that Miles also knew. The implications, however, are far greater than a simple revelation of information. Miles has always blamed his father and held a grudge against him for being gone more than he was around. Yet here the reader learns that Miles took his mother's side against his father all those years ago, even knowing his mother was cheating. This exchange helps Miles realize that he has blamed the wrong parent, in essence, thus consigning himself to his fate: running the Empire Grill under the iron fist of Mrs. Whiting.
By letting this come at the end of the scene, not only does Russo catch the reader off-guard, he creates a powerful resting place. The next scene picks up in another character's point of view (the novel is co-narrated by multiple protagonists), so the reader is left mulling over how this information is going to sink in for Miles, and if it will help him to change his behavior and stop the cycle of guilt his mother started, binding her family to the Whiting family.
Some dialogue scenes will end just like that, on a
kerplunk,
with the final spoken word in the scene. If the revelation came earlier, however, such as at the beginning or middle of the scene, then the ending should reflect whatever took place in the scene: The revelation should have a visible, dramatic impact on the character.
In the scene from
Disgrace,
the tug-of-war conversation reveals that Lucy, despite being raped, doesn't see herself as a victim; and yet David— who
elected
to have an affair with his student
—does
see himself as a victim. Coetzee ends the scene with one reflective line of David's thoughts:
Never yet have they been so far and so bitterly apart. He is shaken.
This is a good, destabilized place to leave David in. Since David hasn't been terribly shaken by anything he's done yet, this signals to the reader that he may be able to change after all.
When it comes time to end a dialogue scene, you'll want to leave your protagonist in one of the following places:
• On the final words of a spoken revelation
• Emotionally, mentally, or spiritually destabilized in some way
• Taking an action based on what was revealed
• Caught in a reflective space to muse on what came in the scene
Remember that dialogue should never be used to discuss mundane or quotidian topics, but always to reveal new information about plot and character. Dialogue can be stylized to match the personality of a character, and should sound realistic.
Finally, be careful with too many back-to-back dialogue scenes. Remember that dialogue feels like action to the reader, so you can break up action by following a dialogue-heavy scene with a suspenseful scene, a contemplative scene, or an epiphany scene. Even within a single scene, a lot of dialogue can start to feel rushed after a while, and should be grounded with physical gestures, setting details, or other brief snippets of exposition.
DIALOGUE SCENE MUSE POINTS
_
• Dialogue should always reveal new information about either the characters or the plot.
• Dialogue feels like action to the reader and can be used to add energy to an otherwise slower-paced scene.
• Balance a dialogue scene with setting details to create foreshadowing, build subtext, and keep the pace even.
•Use dialogue to reveal plot information in a realistic, not convenient, way.
•When a character speaks, her dialogue should reveal intentions
• Use opposing forces, or tug-of-war, in dialogue to keep tension alive.
The American action movie has changed the way people think about action, and not necessarily for the better. We're taught to think that buildings must explode, well-muscled men must leap off crumbling scaffolding, and small children must be rescued at the last minute from near death, or it doesn't count as action. Actions can be smaller and more personal—the only requirement of an action scene is that it rely in part upon physical movement through the space you've created, and evoke a sense of time passing. In action scenes, the reader will feel like he is participating in action because:
•The events unfold in "real time," allowing the reader to feel he is participating in the events of the scene
•The pace is quick, and there is some kind of physical movement
•The protagonist is forced to make quick decisions or to react—to run on instinct rather than intellect
• Unexpected consequences for the protagonist heighten the drama
Action scenes are the ones in which your protagonist acts first and thinks later— in a rage, in passion, or with any other motive, she smashes in the windshield of her cheating boyfriend's car, drops that vengeful letter in the mail, or shows up on the doorstep of the father who never wanted her. Action scenes are also those in which forces catch your protagonist by surprise, thrusting her into motion: hurricanes, sinking boats, mistaken identities. An action scene in a literary novel might not seem as dramatic or big, but you will almost always find scenes in any type of fiction in which people move, react, and rely more on the physical aspects of life than they do on thinking or feeling.
Action scenes feel fast and often intense. Since they rely upon character reactions, they work best when there is something unexpected or surprising about the action—and that increases the reader's worry for the protagonist. (However, too many action scenes in a row can leave your reader overwrought.) Action scenes are a natural fit after a suspense scene, since suspense drives characters toward conflict and action. They're also great after an epiphany or contemplative scene in which the protagonist has digested some kind of important information and is now ready to do something about it.
This scene type will certainly drive the reader forward, but be warned that people have a tendency to skim action scenes, driven forward with their urgency, so you will want to balance them with other types of scenes.
OPENING AN ACTION SCENE
An action scene is so named because the majority of the scene is composed of action unfolding. Therefore, even if you want to start out slow and build toward the action, be thinking about how soon you're going to start the action.
Opening Mid-Action
In medias res
is Latin for "in the middle of action"; beginning a scene in the middle of the action is a great way to open when you want to bypasses exposition. Opening
in medias res
forces the reader to dive in and read on to figure out what is happening. You might open a scene like this when the scene that came before it ended on a cliffhanger, essentially continuing the action that was left dangling in the scene prior, or you may just choose to use this technique to keep the momentum of your narrative up-tempo.
Here's an example from Neal Stephenson's science-fiction novel
Snow Crash
of a scene that opens with the protagonist already in action. Notice how the pace is quick right from the launch. In this future world, pizza delivery is controlled by the mafia, and delivering a pizza late means unemployment, possibly death. The scene before this one ends with the protagonist, Hiro (known as "the Deliverator") on a cliffhanger of tension: He has just learned that he has to get an already old pizza (not a good thing) twelve miles in a very short period of time. The next scene opens with him in action:
The Deliverator lets out an involuntary roar and puts the hammer down. His emotions tell him to go back and kill that manager, get his swords out of the trunk, dive in through the little sliding window like a ninja, track him down through the moiling chaos of the microwaved franchise and confront him in a climactic thick-crust apocalypse. But he thinks the same thing when someone cuts him off on the freeway, and he's never done it—yet.
He can handle this. This is doable. He cranks up the orange warning lights to maximum brilliance, puts his headlights on autoflash.
Opening in this manner allows the reader to feel the pressure that is on the protagonist. It also engages the reader's curiosity. What's going on? Why is the protagonist so upset? What would make him want to pull out his swords and kill the manager? The mid-action scene opening forces the reader to carry on and find out.
When you open an action scene mid-action, the reader should be able to follow the essential action. He should know if your protagonist is running down a street, or in the middle of a crime scene investigation. He doesn't have to know
how,
or
why
—but be sure you make
what
as clear as possible.
Opening With Foreshadowing
If your action scene does not open in the midst of action, then it must be set up to deliver action quickly. You can foreshadow the action that is coming through smaller actions or narrative summary without entirely giving it away. Vendela Vida's novel
And Now You Can Go
opens with Ellis, a young grad student in New York, being held at gunpoint by a man. An action scene toward the end of the book opens with foreshadowing of the related action that is about to ensue:
In the elevator, I watch the numbers as we descend. Sarah's standing with her back to the door, her legs planted and her arms out, as though she's protecting me from whatever I'm about to see.
What she's about to see is the man who held her at gunpoint—who was never caught by police. Two of Ellis's friends, including one particularly volatile guy who is itching for a fight, have brought him there for Ellis to identify so they can proceed to beat him up.
That moment in the elevator prepares the reader for the fact that something is coming. The action comes pretty quickly once she gets off.
"El," the ROTC boy says, "tell me if this is your guy, because if it is, he's a dead man." He's holding the man's arms behind his back. Everyone's eyes are on me, including the man's.
When you open an action scene with foreshadowing or narrative summary, try to keep it short, and simply set up the action that is coming with subtle hints—like the image of Ellis's friend protecting her—and then let the action take center stage. Over-preparing the reader for an action to come can suck the energy or surprise right out of the scene.
CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND PLOT IN ACTION
In a fiction narrative, action is one of the ways that you show the true nature of your protagonist without any of the dull work of exposition. Every scene should offer your protagonist a chance to interact, react, and change, but action scenes take this further. The circumstances of an action scene should be just a bit more intense than those in other types of scenes, so that your characters can show what they're really made of, and even make mistakes. And the actions should also move your plot forward.