Writing and Reading

This is something I wish I had when I was younger, writing my heart out and learning the craft. When I look back, though, I did okay, I suppose. That’s what moguls and experts of the literary industry say anyway–keep writing and writing, hone your craft. Just the mere act of writing sharpens your skills.

But what’s wrong with buying a new blade, all sharp and deadly? Nothing wrong with that.

So this post is going to be about my thought processes and tips and tactics on how to write a damn good fight scene.

I must stress, though, that every writer has a unique style; therefore, one’s process of writing will differ from another’s. The way I write will absolutely be different than the way someone else writes. I write this post, also, specifically for one good colleague of mine, the formidable, indomitable, mysterious Sarah Jensen Of Texas who seems to enjoy reading my fight sequences (likewise, I have this alluring need to read her fight scenes as well thanks to her gorgeous MC, dang you Sarah!). Again, take my tips with the fullest knowledge that they are simply tips and not the be-all end-all of writing theory and knowledge and wisdom and supreme law. This process seems to work for me somehow. I end up liking what I’ve written when it comes to fight scenes. So here it goes….

How many of you readers out there love the Matrix movies? (raise your hands) Okay, many of you. Maybe some of you. Hard to tell since I can’t see hands on the computer screen here. How about some of those Star Wars films? Jackie Chan? Jet Li? Or how about just any richly detailed and masterfully done martial arts film (”Hero”, “Crouching Tiger”, “Forbidden Kingdom” etc etc.)? They’re a wonder to watch. Martial arts is indeed…an art. Don’t take it for granted. Watch the work on screen closely. Watch how the pace quickens, slows down, quickens again. Watch the angles. Pay attention to how it makes you feel inside. Listen to the score behind the fight sequence, too. Pay attention to your rise of emotions as you watch. You have to remember something about film: essentially, film is a plot put into motion on screen. You’re actually watching a plot progress. Every angle, every word, every detail–it’s all plotwork. SO…when you watch a fight sequence, PAY ATTENTION TO EVERY DETAIL.

Watch this sequence. Some of you may recognize it .

Honestly, it’s one of my favorite sequences. What makes it so darn good is simply that it’s not just a ‘fight’ scene. Just like a war story isn’t necessarily about being in a ‘war’. This Matrix sequence doesn’t start out with just plain fighting. It builds into it. Throughout the sequence, the action slows down. It gives you a background to rest on. Then it picks back up, grabs you by the shirt, gets your attention. 

I’ve noticed it’s really important to vary the pace. If it were just straight fighting, non-stop, static–honestly, sensory overload would take over. To keep a reader engaged, you have to vary the pace. Randomly.

So, point number one: slow it down and speed it up in random, shake it up, vary the pace.

Now you’re asking how does that translate into writing. It’s simple. Use. Short. Sentences.

Shorten your paragraphs.

Use good judgment, though, without sacrificing any creative license. Many writers mistakingly believe that good style requires complex sentences and those quintessentially calculating words with over a million freakin’ syllables in them.

Point number two: good style really doesn’t require anything. The mark of good style is to set your writing to evoke a certain kind of emotion, imagery, pace, intensity for any given scene. And not one scene in a book (or a film) is the same as another.

Using passive voice is actually okay despite what you may hear. But it’s only good to use if the scene you’re writing calls for the pace to slow down, or if the mood you’re setting matches the rhythm of your words.

In that same vein–

If I’m working out, breath’s laboring–

My heart pumps, stabs, breaks in my chest. Hard. Heavy.

Sweat rolls down my face. It’s because the strain in my muscles make it–it’s–it’s just so intense!

Bottom line, and this is strictly my opinion: the best fight sequences in books out there have a variety of diction and pace. Long paragraphs, then short paragraphs. Random placement, short words, long words, complex sentences and then mashed with short, hard-hitting sentences. It’s like ordered chaos. Very much like how a true fight scene would be: ordered chaos.

How would you put that Matrix sequence into words? As if you were a play-by-play announcer? Some experience with martial arts, of course, would help. But you don’t even necessarily need physical experience in it. Think about how quickly you would need to describe the faster, more intense sections of the scene. You use shorter words. You use smaller paragraphs. That, in itself, is good style, because you’re matching the mood, the pace, the feel of that particular section. Likewise, the parts that slow down, that let you breathe a little–take that time to slow down the prose, describe how Neo is breathing after Morpheus kicks him into the post and then asks him “How did I beat you?”. Slow. It. Down………..

Then pick it up, tighten it up. Again, short words. Fragments are okay, to a degree. Again, don’t overdo it. Be as economical as possible, because remember, as you’re picturing that fight scene in your head–like watching the Matrix sequence–you’re writing a play-by-play. Be quick. And DO NOT WORRY about being simple. I can’t stress enough that simplicity itself is a mark of good style. Simple words, simple sentences. Simple imagery.

The trick is to constantly vary the pace, vary the diction. Make it almost chaotic. Make it random. Longer sequences are a mark of good style, too; but they simply need to be used at the right time. Simplicity and complexity work together in a fight sequence.

That’s my process in writing sequences like that, written out for you as best as possible (I think). Again, just remember: one, vary your pace in random fashion, shake it up; two, writing in simple style and complex style is not a bad thing, using short words and long words, short sentences and long sentences, short paragraphs and long paragraphs. Read over your sequence and then visualize what you originally visualized in your head as you wrote your sequence; and if it seems to match up, then you’re golden. The important thing is to make sure it’s clear to the reader. They need to be able to visualize it at the pace it needs to be, or else you run the risk of overwriting. Likewise, they need to be able to rest and absorb the words, too, or you might pace it way too fast for the reader to even process the imagery. It’s a balance. It’s all about balance.

As Mr. Miyagi would say… “Wax on…wax off.”

Apparently, he’s my alter ego. His name is Chuck Stake. He happens to be an author of splatterpunk novels. Yes, splatterpunk novels. Actually, that’s his pen name. I don’t know his real name. But he is my alter ego.

The reason I’m posting this is because I just found out (yes, just now–after about two months, because I’m an oblivious moron) that I won a contest ran by Ellora’s Cave Publishing on the worst pen names ever created. Many of you might have heard of it. My pen name for the splatterpunk genre, Chuck Stake, won.

I shall receive soon an erotic anthology of sorts in the mail from Ellora’s Cave for winning this contest . Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun.