What’s Scary

Kabuki Actor - The Actor Ichikawa Danjuro by Katsukawa Shunso--1726-1792 My now eight year old daughter was in preschool for a couple of days a week to give me a break—and some time to do some writing. This always seemed to work out well for both of us.

Except when she was two. That’s when separation anxiety kicked into high gear. Her poor teacher that year was a sunny, small, smiling, blonde mother of two. Mrs. Heinz would greet my daughter in a cheerful voice. My daughter would scream bloody murder and cling to me in a way that necessitated her being pulled off me like a banana peel.

I promise that there was nothing sinister about this lady, the school, or the classroom, which was very open and well-monitored. Mrs. Heinz was the very definition of ‘benign.’ The only scary thing this teacher was doing was separating my daughter from me at a time she couldn’t tolerate separation.

Most of us have, at some point, to write a scene that’s either very tense or frightening.

How do we pull our readers into the scene? We want them to feel caught up in the action and definitely want them to keep turning the pages.

We want to put the reader in the protagonist’s shoes:

Have the character display nervousness or disquiet before the scary things even happen. Maybe the scary part hasn’t really started in your scene—but you can set the stage by having the protagonist looking behind them, jumping at small noises, etc.

The reader needs to know what’s at stake: The character’s life? The character’s job? Nuclear holocaust? Getting dropped off at a preschool program? Obviously, the higher the stakes, the more tension for the reader.

Make sure the character uses his senses and relays that information to the reader. What does he hear? His own heartbeat? Footsteps running behind him? Maniacal laughter? What does he see? Nothing, because the lights are off?

Make them feel what the protagonist is feeling: chill up the spine, hairs standing up on the back of the neck, heart thumping, sweat dripping down the side of the face.

Build suspense. I took a film course in college and learned about parallel editing there. That’s when you cut between a shot showing the bomb with the timer counting down rapidly and a shot of the FBI agent running desperately up the staircase to stop it. Although it’s a visual device, the technique can be useful in fiction, too. You can cut back and forth between the thing the protagonist is afraid of and the frightened character.

Books and movies that scare me also feature nightmarish setbacks…the protagonist tripping over a root as he runs through the woods, the gun that isn’t loaded, etc.

My daughter, six years ago, was able to convey a great deal of foreboding and dread (and heaps of guilt) by shrieking at the very sight of poor Mrs. Heinz. Although I didn’t share her feelings about the teacher, she did an effective job of transferring her emotions to me. :)

Which is exactly what we want to do to our reader if we’re writing a frightening or tense scene.

How do you write page-turning scary or stressful scenes?

Reactions

El Greco, Lady in a Fur Wrap, 1577-80 Sunday morning I woke up with a stiff neck. Since Sunday was really busy for me, I just ignored it. I continued ignoring it the entire day…until I sat down to write this post and started thinking about it again.

But what if I weren’t a busy mom? What if I were an Olympic athlete? I’d be devoting some time trying to resolve the problem. Maybe I’d take some ibuprofen (or maybe not—not sure about the drug testing there.) Maybe I’d put ice, then a heating pad on it. I’d be talking to my coach. Maybe getting a massage?

What if I were a hypochondriac instead of an athlete or a busy mom? My whole day could be devoted to my stiff neck. I could be on the internet for hours, looking up symptoms….could I have meningitis? I might drive straight to the emergency room and spend most of the day in there because the triage nurse decides immediately that my case will be the last priority—there’s an odd lack of temperature for someone who has meningitis.

So, depending on the character, reactions will not only be very different to each possible situation, but will demonstrate a lot about the character in a show-don’t-tell way.

The fact that we don’t all react to situations in the same way seems obvious. But I find myself frequently thinking that friends or family members share my mindset on things they couldn’t disagree more on. It’s always a surprise to me. Doesn’t everyone think the way I do? :)

And that thinking seeps over into my first drafts sometimes. I consciously have to say, “Okay, in this situation, I would do this….but I’m not an octogenarian.”

And then there’s the wonderful moment in the first draft when I get into my manuscript and the characters come alive and act on their own accord and I have nothing to do with it. It’s one of the happiest parts of writing for me.

Before your characters come alive, do you have to consciously think like them and put yourself in their shoes? Or is your protagonist so much like you that you share the same reactions?

Indicators

Ad Nazarenko Landscape in Donetsk-1972 I took a quick trip to South Carolina Friday and Saturday to see my folks and talk to Mama’s book club.

On the way back home Saturday morning, I suddenly realized I needed to get gasoline…and was hungry. I pulled off the next highway exit into a small town that I’d passed on the interstate for years and never been to.

The highway sign had been misleading—yes, there was a Chick-fil-A fast food place there…three miles in. So I ended up driving through a good amount of the town’s main street.

The first thing that I noticed was the fact that I passed four payday loan businesses and a pawn shop on my three mile drive.

Once I noticed that, I also noticed vacant businesses and decrepit-looking buildings.

It all added up to a town in real economic trouble.

I think that’s the reason the phrase “A picture is worth a thousand words” was coined. If I’d stood in that town, whipped out my camera, and snapped a picture of the payday advance lender next to the pawn shop with the barred windows (and not gotten my city-slicker rear end kicked), everyone I showed it to would’ve gotten a split second impression.

I love little indicators that, like a picture, tell a lot more. That’s the show, don’t tell, doctrine. Don’t say the character is messy…have a banana peel fall out when they open their car door.

Since descriptions and I don’t get along well anyway, I keep a little notebook with scrawled quick impressions of people and places. I hope my small observations make a bigger statement about the character or setting.

How do you work on showing, not telling?

Developing Our Story

Okay, y’all know I don’t usually post a video. But this one, if you’re a writer, will put a smile on your face if you have the time (1:58 length) :

<\/param><\/embed><\/object><\/div>“;” alt=””>

The video features an editor trying to get a writer to change his manuscript—and coming up with confusing and bizarre storylines for the author to develop. The hapless writer is trying to make connections between his plot and the outlandish ideas the editor is dreaming up.

I’ve never had an editor act this way, of course—they’re always super-professional and give helpful suggestions. But I frequently go through a similar process myself (although it doesn’t usually involve sharks, pebbles, or killing my protagonist in the first chapter.)

I do go through a “what-if” process of story development. I think most writers do, actually. Because our stories can take dramatically different turns with each scenario we’re considering.

I’ll usually think about it on the go—while running errands, or getting ready for the day. “What if Jenna were the victim and not Paul? Then that would mean that Clarice has more of a motive and opportunity. And Clarice is a stronger character than Jenna…Jenna is a better dead body. And then what if…?”

Even relatively minor shifts—maybe the protagonist’s occupation—can have a big impact on the story.

When you’re going through the what-if process, how do you decide which direction to go in? Do you write all the options down and weigh them? Do you let your characters determine story direction? Do you look at what sounds like the most fun to write?

On Revising

Today I’d like to welcome Bob Sanchez to the blog. Bob, a retired technical writer, has published two novels, When Pigs Fly and Getting Lucky. His blog is http://bobsanchez1.blogspot.com and is the webmaster and frequent reviewer for the Internet Review of Books at http://internetreviewofbooks.com.

bob_sanchez Elizabeth asked me for a post on revising—not necessarily how to do it, but how I do it. Writing and revising aren’t separate processes, but are closely bound together. Revising is writing. Before my fingers first hit the keyboard, a debate begins in my head about where to start. That doesn’t last long, because finding the right beginning and ending aren’t essential yet. It’s really okay to begin anywhere.

Yet this next paragraph comes slowly. For one thing, I am already second-guessing my opening sentences and wondering how to write this piece without overusing the first person singular pronoun. But after a few fixes it’s time to read it over, maybe even aloud, forcing me to notice every word. If the passage sounds okay for now, it’s time to move on.

Usually this messy approach continues throughout a rough draft—writing, proofing, reading, then writing some more. Commas become em dashes, typos disappear, words get shuffled or replaced. I’ll delete most adverbs and passive constructions.

Eventually, I have a series of paragraphs representing the bulk of the message. Now come a series of important questions:

  • Does the draft make the point I want to make? If not, I still have a lot of work to do.
  • Does it flow well? Maybe rearranging or adding paragraphs will make the sequence more logical.
  • Does everything fit? This may be the time to delete entire paragraphs.
  • Does the tone sound consistent and appropriate? The first draft of this essay had a joke that didn’t feel right, so it’s gone.
  • Does the piece have a strong lead and conclusion? If not, now is the time to write them.

Once a draft is complete, I try to set my work aside for awhile and come back to it later. Here’s an example of what can happen when you don’t. I’m an admin on a writing list and felt the need to send out an admonition. This is what I sent:

Okay gang, please remember that this list is all about the craft of writing. Please let’s stick to that. The plight of your favorite bookstore, however interesting, is off topic.

And please note that the old “I know this is off topic, but…” ploy doesn’t justify a post. If you know you shouldn’t post, please don’t.

Five sentences with four pleases? Oh, please. Here is a better version:

Okay gang, remember that this list is all about the craft of writing. The plight of your favorite bookstore, however interesting, is off topic.

Note also that the old “I know this is off topic, but…” ploy doesn’t justify a post. If you know you shouldn’t post, then don’t.

There, that’s better. My early drafts may still contain infelicitous phrases, repeated words and ideas, clichés, misspellings, passive constructions, and unclear pronoun references. Not to mention incomplete sentences. I once asked a good friend, who is an excellent writer, how he makes his work so smooth. He replied, “I just go over it and over it”—and that, I think, is the key.

2026 © beta
Scroll to top