Wordplay: Helping Writers Become Authors: December 2012

Once you’ve established your character’s scene* goal, the fun begins in earnest! Conflict is what story is all about. Without it, the character would achieve his goal in minutes, all the loose ends would instantly be tied off with a pretty red bow, and the story would be happily ever over. That may be nice for the folks in your story, but it’s going to bore readers into rigor mortis.

Enter the opposition, stage left.

Here’s your character, merrily skipping along toward his goal of contributing to the annual Christmas Children’s Charity, when bammo! bandits swarm the road, block off access to the goal, and demand the character hand over all his money. Ta-da! Instantly, your scene becomes more interesting. Readers are breathless to discover if your character will escape the bandits and deliver his charity donation to the poor little orphans.

Conflict keeps your story moving forward. We say “no conflict, no story” because without conflict, the story comes to an end. When the character’s initial goal is stymied by conflict, it causes him to react with a new goal, which is stymied by further conflict, which causes him to again modify his goal—and on and on, until finally he reaches the goal and the story ends.

Surprisingly, authors sometimes experience difficulties in injecting enough conflict into their stories. Their characters mosey through life, getting along with everyone and doing nothing of great importance. Or, if they do have an altercation with someone or accomplish something important, the ramifications are resolved so quickly and seamlessly, that they end up being neither crucial nor entertaining.

Don’t be afraid of socking it to your characters. Without conflict and its associated suffering, characters have no reason to exist. Analyze your scenes to ensure each one erects obstacles between your character and his goal.

**Options for Scene Conflict**

Like scene goals, scene conflict offers endless possibilities. Conflict can come in a variety of flavors, but most can be sorted into the following categories:

1. Direct opposition (another character, weather, etc., which interferes and prevents the protagonist from achieving his goal).

2. Inner opposition (the character learns something that changes his mind about his goal).

3. Circumstantial difficulties (no flour to bake a cake, no partners to dance with, etc.).

4. Active conflict (argument, fight, etc.).

5. Passive conflict (being ignored, being kept in the dark, being avoided, etc.).

These generalities can include (but certainly aren’t limited to):

1. Physical altercation.

2. Verbal altercation.

3. Physical obstacle (weather, roadblock, personal injury, etc.).

4. Mental obstacle (fear, amnesia, etc.).

5. Physical lack (no flour to bake a cake).

6. Mental lack (no information).

7. Passive aggression (intentional or unintentional).

8. Indirect interference (long-distance or unintentional opposition by another character).

Is Your Conflict Integral?

As if we don’t have enough to keep us busy just in dreaming up a good altercation, we also have to limit our conflict to only what is integral to each specific scene. In the words of Dwight V. Swain, “conflict for conflict’s sake” isn’t good enough.

If the charitable character in our original illustration loses his donation money to bandits, that’s probably a good conflict. It directly interferes with his goal of giving the money to the orphans. But if the bandits never show up again in the story—if they appeared solely for the sake of stealing the money—they’re not going to represent integral conflict.

Even worse is when the conflict has nothing to do with the goal. If Allie is walking down the street, intent on getting to her hair appointment before her debut performance on Broadway, a random argument about the worth and importance of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade just ain’t gonna cut it.

Instead, we have to ensure each scene’s conflict is a direct result of an earlier occurrence in the plot (maybe our protagonist infuriated the bandit leader by throwing a snowball in his face) and a direct obstacle between the protagonist and his goal (maybe the Macy’s parade is preventing Allie from reaching her hair appointment).

**Questions to Ask About Your Scene Conflict**

Once you’ve identified your scene’s conflict, stop and ask yourself the following questions:

1. Does the opposition to the character’s goal matter to him? (If not, he doesn’t want the goal badly enough in the first place.)

2. Does the conflict organically evolve from the goal?

3. Is the opposition’s motivation logical within the overall story?

4. Does the conflict lead to a logical outcome (resolution or disaster)?

5. Does the conflict directly interfere with or threaten the protagonist’s goal?

Scene Conflict in Action

How does effective scene conflict manifest in successful stories? Let’s take another look at our chosen books and movies:

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen: In the first chapter, Mrs. Bennet’s goal is to get her husband to call upon Mr. Bingley, so their daughters may later be introduced to this eligible young man. Her goal is impeded by Mr. Bennet’s passive resistance to her nagging. The conflict takes the form of a verbal altercation. Even though it’s not an outright argument, and certainly isn’t violent or even aggressive, it still offers conflict simply because the two characters are obviously at odds. If Mr. Bennet were to immediately give in to Mrs. Bennet’s desires (“Why, certainly, blossom, I’d be overjoyed to visit Mr. Bingley since you’re so keen on it!”), the scene would be instantly (and yawn-inducingly) over.

It’s a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra: The opening scene’s conflict comes in the form of the angel Clarence’s incompetence. The goal of Joseph, his superior angel, is to send Clarence down to earth to save George Bailey. But not only is Clarence late and worrisome in his ineptitude, he’s also unable to see Joseph’s narration of George’s past. This is a very minor conflict (and one that’s overcome, at least partially, with ease, since all Joseph has to do is help Clarence see the past), but it serves not only to spice up the scene, but also to demonstrate key facets of Clarence’s character.

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card: In the first chapter, Ender’s goal is simple enough: he just wants to get to the school bus and go home. But conflict immediately arises in the form of Stilson and other bullies who try to impede Ender’s progress. The conflict arises naturally from the characters and from the plot, since the bullies are taunting Ender about the loss of his monitor. But it goes far beyond conflict for conflict’s sake. This first altercation not only aptly demonstrates important character qualities within the protagonist, it also leads into a disaster that will figure prominently throughout the book—and ultimately foreshadow the climax.

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter Weir: Conflict arises in the first scene when the midshipman Mr. Hollom wavers in his decisiveness about whether or not he’s spotted the enemy ship Acheron. This opening scene is primarily confined to Hollom’s inner conflict, which is illustrated through a terse exchange of words between him and another midshipman. The conflict neatly dramatizes important facets of shipboard life, sets up the overall conflict of Surprise vs. Acheron, and foreshadows Hollom’s character arc.

Conflict is arguably one of the easiest and most enjoyable parts to write in any story. So long as you’ve properly set up the conflict within each scene, your story will chug along, almost under its own power.

*For the purposes of this series, “Scene” with a capital S will refer to the scene in general (which can include in its definition the sequel). I’ll use a small s and italicize scene and sequel to refer to the two different types of Scenes.

Stay tuned: Next week, we’ll talk about Options for Ending Scenes With Disaster.

Tell me your opinion: What is the conflict in your most recent scene?

Related Posts: Give Your Character Someone to Talk to

Why Nice Characters Equal No Conflict

Why Your Story’s Conflict Isn’t Working

_________________

Click the “Play” button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Wordplay podcast in iTunes).

December 30, 2012
23 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in conflict , Feature , scenes , structuring your story's scenes , SYN

December 28, 2012
25 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in Characters , Feature , Writing Life

This week’s video cautions against allowing your story’s “ticking clock” to speed things up too much.

Video Transcript: High stakes are important in any story. To one extent or another, we always want readers to feel a sense of desperation and urgency. One of the best ways to ramp up that feeling is to tighten the story’s timeline and speed up events. You have to disarm a ticking bomb? How much more exciting if you have to do it in five minutes rather than five days? But there are definite downsides to allowing your story to run along too quickly.

To begin with, we’re going to have to deal with simple logic. We have to give our characters enough time to accomplish the task. Maybe it’s impossible to disarm this particular bomb in five minutes. If so, the character better have enough time to get the job done; otherwise either his head’s going to explode—or your readers’ heads are.

We also have to consider character development. Is it possible for two characters to fall madly in love and form a lifelong attachment in just one day? Yes. Is it likely? Not so much. Is it possible that a scumbag character can completely turn his life around in a day? Yes. Likely? No. Sometimes sacrificing logic in situations like this is worth it to gain that sense of urgency in the ticking clock. But never do so without due consideration.

Finally, perhaps the most important reason to slow down your story’s timeline is for impact’s sake. This is going to matter in segments in which time becomes important not just for your character’s development, but to emphasize his state of being—and usually that state is going to be one of suffering. Getting thrown into an oubliette for a day or two isn’t going to be very fun, but it’s not going to compare to spending months or years locked away in horrible circumstances. Allowing that extra time in certain stories can sometimes make all the difference.

Tell me your opinion: Are there any areas of your story that could benefit from a longer timeline?

Related Posts: 5 Ways to Pace Your Story

Control Your Speed, Control Your Pacing

3 Easy (or Easier) Ways to Build Suspense

December 26, 2012
12 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in Feature , pacing , stakes , Time

The story as a whole and every scene* within it begins with a goal. Your character wants something—something he will have difficulty accomplishing. What he wants frames the plot on both the macro and micro levels. What he wants defines him as a person, and, by extension, the theme of the book as a whole.

The possibilities for scene goals are endless—and very specific to your story. Your character can want anything in any given scene, but within that universe of options, you must narrow down the desires expressed within your scene to those that will drive the plot. Wanting to buy pink carnations for Mother’s Day is a worthy goal, but if your character’s mother is a nonexistent player in your story of a nuclear war, it’s not going to belong in your story—and certainly not as a scene goal.

Scene goals are the dominoes I’m always talking about. Each goal is a step forward in your story. One goal leads to a result that prompts a new goal and on and on. Bing-bing-bing—they knock into each other, one domino after another. If they don’t—if one goal is out of place in the overall story—the line of dominoes will stop and the story will falter, perhaps fatally.

Plot Goals vs. Scene Goals

Your character’s overall plot goal will be a dilemma that will take the entire story to solve. He may want to become President, he may want to rescue his kidnapped daughter, he may want to marry the girl next door, or he may want to find healing and a fresh start after the death of his father. If we break this overall, story-long goal down into bite-size pieces, we find that it’s really made up of one small goal after another.

Your character may not even start out knowing that he wants a fresh start or that he wants to marry the girl next door (although it should be immediately evident to the reader by implication if nothing else). But in the very first scene, he’s going to know he wants something. Maybe he knows he wants the neighbor girl’s dog to stop chewing his petunias. Then he knows he has to meet her and convince her to chain up her dog. Then he knows she’s infuriatingly cute. Then he knows he wants to go out with her. Then he knows he has to overcome his bad first impression. Then he knows he should buy her flowers. Etc., etc., etc. Before you know it, all these little scene goals will have led you right up to the overall story goal.

The most important factor to keep in mind as you identify each scene goal is its pertinence to the plot. Subplots may provide opportunities for goals that aren’t directly related to your primary goal of marrying the neighbor girl, but they, too, must eventually tie into the overall plot in an impactful or thematically resonant way. If the accomplishment or thwarting of any given scene goal won’t affect the overall outcome of the story, it’s probably not pertinent enough.

**Options for Scene Goals**

Scene goals will manifest in wildly different ways. Your character may want to burn a packet of letters, take a nap, hide in a closet, or sink a boat. But most scene goals will boil down into one of the following categories.

Your character is going to want:

1. Something concrete (an object, a person, etc.).

2. Something incorporeal (admiration, information, etc.)

3. Escape from something physical (imprisonment, pain, etc.).

4. Escape from something mental (worry, suspicion, fear, etc.).

5. Escape from something emotional (grief, depression, etc.).

His methods of achieving these things will often manifest in one of the following ways (although this list certainly isn’t definitive):

1. Seeking information.

2. Hiding information.

3. Hiding self.

4. Hiding someone else.

5. Confronting or attacking someone else.

6. Repairing or destroying physical objects.

Partial and Overarching Goals

Although scene goals will always be short-range (as opposed to the long-range plot goal), they won’t always be confined to and completed in a single scene. Sometimes your story will demand overarching goals that span several scenes. For example, your character may know in scene #3 that he wants to go out with the neighbor girl, but this isn’t a goal he can accomplish in just one scene. He may not achieve this particular goal until scene #11.

That’s where partial goals come into play. Just as scene goals build up to the overall story goal, partial goals build up to fulfill overarching goals, which themselves eventually lead up to the overall goal. In our example, the character’s journey to reach this particular overarching goal might include partial goals such as purposefully bumping into the neighbor girl several times, getting her phone number, buying her flowers, and apologizing for yelling at her dog.

Overarching goals that require several scenes to accomplish do not negate the need for individual goals within each interim scene. But don’t limit yourself with the notion that each scene has to be an island unto itself. Each scene is just a small part of the larger whole. Since everything must integral, everything can’t help but be intertwined.

**Questions to Ask About Your Scene Goals**

Once you’ve identified your scene’s goal, stop and ask yourself the following questions:

1. Does the goal make sense within the overall plot?

2. Is the goal inherent to the overall plot?

3. Will the goal’s complication/resolution lead to a new goal/conflict/disaster?

4. If the goal is mental or emotional (e.g., be happy today), does it have a physical manifestation (e.g., smile at everyone)? (This one isn’t always necessary, but allowing characters to outwardly show their goals offers a stronger presentation than mere telling, via internal narrative.)

5. Does the success or failure of the goal directly affect the scene narrator? (If not, his POV probably isn’t the right choice.)

Scene Goals in Action

Let’s examine a few scene goals in action. Just for continuity’s sake, I’ll be using examples from the same four books and movies I used in my Secrets of Story Structure series.

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen: Mrs. Bennet’s goal in the first chapter is to convince her husband to call upon the newly arrived Mr. Bingley. Even though she’s not the story’s protagonist, she is the primary actor in this first scene, so it’s appropriate that the first goal belongs to her. The chapter offers a wonderful opening goal, since it not only presents a short-term scene goal, but also perfectly frames the story’s overall goal.

It’s a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra: The angel Joseph’s goal in the first scene is to find an angel he can send to George Bailey’s aid. Like Pride & Prejudice, the movie opens from a perspective outside the protagonist’s, but it presents an instant and accurate picture of the overall story goal (i.e., save George Bailey by helping him understand his life is worth living).

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card: The book opens with several short scenes indicating the goals of people other than the protagonist (used, once again, to frame the plot’s overall focus). Ender’s first goal is to avoid the bullies and make it to the school bus without incident.

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter Weir: Both the overall story goal and, by extension, the first individual scene goal are introduced in the movie’s opening shot with the revelation of Jack Aubrey’s orders to find and destroy the French privateer Acheron. The movie establishes this goal quickly by allowing readers to directly read the orders, then jumps into the first scene with the officer of the watch glassing the sea in search of any anomaly that may prove to be their quarry.

Once you have a proper goal in place, the rest of your scene will likely flow easily and organically. So long as each scene is inherent to your story and moves the plot forward, you’ll be on course to achieve a solid and cohesive novel.

*For the purposes of this series, “Scene” with a capital S will refer to the scene in general (which can include in its definition the sequel). I’ll use a small s and italicize scene and sequel to refer to the two different types of Scenes.

Stay tuned: Next week, we’ll talk about Options for Conflict in a Scene.

Tell me your opinion: What is your character’s goal in your current scene?

Related Posts: Why Your Character ’s Motive Matters?

Never Give Your Characters What They Want

3 Traits Your Hero and Villain Should Share
_________________

Click the “Play” button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Wordplay podcast in iTunes).

December 23, 2012
12 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in Feature , goals , scenes , story structure , structuring your story's scenes , SYN

This guest post is by Nona Mae King.

Music is used in stores to prolong the shopping experience. In movies, music (or the lack of it) is utilized to enhance the scene. Advertising agencies have invested time and money into music for jingles that keep products in your head or a television series in the forefront of your mind.

Music is also one of the key aspects of my writing process.

Music Encourages Focus

The first step in my writing process is to turn on my music.

I do not require utter silence in order to write. In fact, silence is distracting, which might be due to my history as a one-in-four sibling growing up on a 30-acre homestead in Oregon. There was always some type of noise to compete with. This forced me to learn to “tune out” in order to get anything done. Now, I look to music and other types of white noise to keep me on task. To give me something to ignore. Seriously.

I wish I had my headphones right now so I could tune out the television and conversations booming behind me.

Music Enhances Mood

I have more than seven days of music on my computer in genres ranging from alternative to industrial to techno. This broad range of styles helps me create a writing soundtrack, as it were, for a specific scene, character, era, or particular intensity I want to impart to my readers. For my newest release Searching for Sara, I utilized my playlist of classical music to submerse myself in music of the period (the novel is set in the mid 1890s). I enhanced that selection with more modern symphonic undertones to help me with scenes of dark intensity and grief. Having that foundation encouraged my mind to seek out those power words to convey the agony of the hero.

Music Promotes Inspiration

Did you ever hear a piece of music or watch a movie that tugged at your heart and soul so profoundly you were left to sit in utter silence? The Christian groups Skillet and Building 429 are two such artists who inspire me to create characters or scenes. Their melodies and lyrics move me to seek an outlet for those poignant emotions. In fact, I generally listen to Christian alternative or rock while working on my Young Adult fiction series Changing Scenes, in order to harness the chaos and intense emotions I remember experiencing as a teen.

Music Encourages Us to Seek Inspiration

I cannot stress enough the importance of finding those doors and windows to your writing passion. If you are intrigued and loving (or hating) of your characters, your readers will pick up on that intensity and turn pages. Music helps me “channel” the necessary mood. But what about you? What have you found that encourages inspiration?

About the Author: Nona King is an independent writing professional for Angel Breath Books. She has dedicated herself to writing true-to-life characters, be they villain or hero, so her readers can experience life and its many passions. All her stories focus on faith, honor, and the importance of communication and trust in our relationships with others. Her latest book is Searching for Sara, story of how two people face their daily tortures of fear and grief to find healing and happiness.

Tell me your opinion: Do you listen to music while writing?

Related Posts: How Music Will Make You a Better Writer

Multi-Media Inspiration

Pictorial Ideas for Creating Your Own Writing Routine

December 21, 2012
36 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in Feature , Inspiration , music , writing process

December 19, 2012
9 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in character arc , Characters , fear , Feature , plot points , second plot point , SYN , third act

Like story itself, each Scene* follows a specific structure. At its heart, the arc of the Scene is the same as that of the larger story structure exhibited over the course of the book:

1. Beginning=Hook

2. Middle=Development

3. End=Climax

When we look at the arc this way, it makes a basic sort of sense. But it doesn’t really offer us any specific advice for how to create these elements within the Scene. So let’s break it down further still.

Both scene and sequel follow a basic three-part arc, but the elements are significantly different in each. Today, we’re going to take a look at the three basic building blocks of the scene. As we continue in the series, we’ll look at some variations upon these three parts of the arc, but, generally speaking, your scenes are going to need to possess the following:

Building Block #1: Goal

This is where it all starts. What your character wants on a large scale is what drives your entire story. What he wants on a smaller scale drives your scene. If he doesn’t want anything, then the story has no impetus.

No goal=no giddy-up-and-go.

What your character wants in any given scene will be a minuscule reflection of his overall story goal and/or a step toward his achieving that goal. For example, if your character’s overall story goal is to escape a POW camp, his scene goals might be to procure a shovel, to bribe a guard to leave his post, or to convince a buddy to come along. Once you know your character’s goal in a given scene, you know the purpose of the scene.

No goal=no point.

Establish the character’s goal as early as possible in the scene. Readers need to understand what’s at stake. What is the character trying to accomplish? Why is he trying to accomplish it? And what will happen if he fails?

Building Block #2: Conflict

Once you have your goal in place, your next responsibility is to create an obstacle that will prevent your character from easily achieving the result he seeks. “No conflict, no story” might be said more accurately as “no conflict, no scene.” Conflict is what keeps the character from reaching his goal—and thus what keeps the story from ending too quickly.

Conflict makes up the middle/development section of the scene arc. Most of the meat of your scene will probably be taken up by the conflict. In our POW camp example, the story’s overall conflict might be to outwit and escape the camp’s cruel commanding officer. But on the scene level, this conflict will manifest in ways such as getting caught stealing the shovel, getting blackmailed by the bribed guard, or arguing with the buddy who’s unsure about the escape.

Whatever the scene conflict, it must arise organically as an obstacle to the goal. A random spat with the camp bully may offer conflict, but if it doesn’t endanger the protagonist’s ability to achieve his goal, then it isn’t the specific scene conflict you’re looking for.

Conflict comes in many variations—everything from a knife fight to a cave-in to a lost credit card. It doesn’t have to occur between two people. It doesn’t even have to be a fight or an argument in the traditional sense. All that matters is that it hinders the achievement of the scene goal.

Building Block #3: Disaster (Outcome)

Finally, the conflict must be resolved decidedly—and probably not in the protagonist’s favor. The scene’s outcome is the build-up to the next Scene. If it’s all tied up too nicely, there will be no logical next step and the story will end.

Some authors dislike the “disaster” label for the scene’s outcome, since it seems to indicate that something earth-shatteringly awful has to happen at the end of every scene. If you’re writing a thriller, that’s all fine and good, but what if your story is a romance or a quiet literary saga? You can hardly have folks getting shot or crashing their cars at the end of every scene.

True enough. It’s also true enough that it’s pretty near impossible to end every scene with a full-on disaster. Sometimes in order for the story to move forward, the conflict simply must be resolved in the protagonist’s favor. (We’ll talk more about this in our post on Variations of the Scene.)

Even with all that in mind, I still prefer the emphasis on disaster, if for no other reason than it offers a continual reminder to keep the stakes high and the protagonist off-balance. As such, disasters can come in many different varieties. Shootings and car crashes are the extreme end of the disaster scale. On the tamer side, we find unfavorable outcomes such as getting suckered into making a losing bet, getting a flat tire on the way to a crucial meeting, or even just letting that box of Valentine’s candy melt into a sticky mess.

The disaster must also evolve organically from the conflict that created it. If your hero gets dumped by his girl as a result of an argument, that’s an organic disaster. If he argues with her and then gets arrested for jaywalking, that’s probably not going to be a sensible outcome. You either need to change the disaster to fit the goal and conflict, or change the goal and conflict so they properly set up the arrest as the disaster.

Our POW camp scenes might end disastrously with the shovel thief failing to find a shovel, the bribed guard threatening to throw our hero into solitary, or the scared buddy hurling accusations of self-serving recklessness.

The point, in any disaster, is that the hero finds himself in a pickle—which will lead us right into the sequel.

**The Scene in Action**

As an example of these three elements of the scene, consider the third chapter of Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen:

Goal: To dance at the assembly ball and to catch the eye of the newcomers from London.

Conflict: The women outnumber the men, so there aren’t enough partners to go around.

Disaster: Darcy rejects Elizabeth as a partner.

So there you have it! A full-blown scene, from top to bottom. Once you understand the inner workings of this most important of all story components, you can purposefully build strong scenes that will not only carry their own weight, but which will bear up the story itself and create a plot that flows logically and powerfully from beginning to end.

Stay tuned: Next week, we’ll talk about Options for Goals in a Scene.

Tell me your opinion: Does your current scene have all three components? Why or why not?

Related Posts: Does Your Character Lack Purpose?

Why Your Story’s Conflict Isn’t Working

Is Nothin’ Happening in Your Scene?

_________________

Click the “Play” button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Wordplay podcast in iTunes).

December 16, 2012
15 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in conflict , disaster , Feature , goals , scenes , story structure , structuring your story's scenes , SYN

This guest post is by Laura Carlson.

Have you ever read a book that was underwhelming, but you just couldn’t put your finger on what was wrong? The characters were okay, but the book just never went anywhere? That might be because the author had too much filler and not enough plot-driven scenes.

I was inspired to write this post after working with a series of clients who all had the same problem: too much filler in their books. The topic of filler, which I define below, is both difficult to identify and difficult to discuss, perhaps because we see it so much even in published books.

So today I want to discuss what filler is, where it’s often found, why it’s so corrosive to your story, and how to edit filler out of your book.

What Is Filler?

I define filler as the unnecessary information writers insert between two scenes. In order to understand filler, you must understand what a scene is. There’s a general formula for scenes, but for the sake of simplicity, I’m going to say that a scene pushes the plot forward in some way. Filler does the opposite. A book’s forward momentum comes to a halt when a writer inserts filler.

Example:

Scene 1: Sarah interrogates Bob and learns the location of a stolen item.

Filler: Sarah gets into her car, hits a few stoplights, admires her grungy surroundings, and spends some time finding a place to park.

Scene 2: Sarah is ambushed once she arrives at the location.

Scenes 1 and 2 push the plot forward. They also increase the book’s momentum because they’re exciting. Meanwhile, the filler slows down the two otherwise fast-paced scenes by describing the ride from the interrogation room to the divulged location.

Where I Often See Filler

Early drafts and new authors are the usual victims of excessive amounts of filler.

As in the example above, transportation is often a common area where authors fall into the trap of inserting filler. The example demonstrates how easy it would be to talk about Sarah getting into the car, driving across town—perhaps getting lost—before finally making it to the next scene. A scene that takes place as your character is on the road, walking home, or in an airplane, may be important, but many times this is just the author filling in the time between two scenes.

Another example I see a lot is a character beginning the day at the moment they wake up. If something important occurs later in the day, don’t start the scene in the morning; start it when the conflict starts.

Why Do Authors Fall Into the Trap of Inserting Filler?

It’s so tantalizingly easy to connect one scene to the next, and the alternative—ending one scene and beginning another—can initially appear too abrupt. It’s not.

Filler is usually the result of having too few exciting scenes in the book. Often, if you add more exciting scenes, you’ll find yourself taking out the unimportant ones to make room for them.

Why Filler Is a Bad Thing

Having sections of text whose only purpose is to connect one exciting event to the next is not only a waste of time and space, it can halt the momentum of your book and lose reader attention. Worse, I’ve come across writers who have “scenes” of filler: whole days dedicated to doing nothing of importance.

How to Correct Filler

This is the easy part. Delete. This is the beautiful simplicity of removing filler. If it is unnecessary to the story, then it doesn’t need to be there. Now you might be worried that the transition is too choppy. This is where you insert a scene break or a concise sentence or two that transitions the character from one scene to the next.

The Caveat

I’m sure by now you’ve all thought of a few examples that disprove this general content edit—and you’d be correct. That’s because this is a content edit that is a matter of degree, rather than an absolute rule in writing. It is also untrue to say that a segment of text either is or is not filler; there is a gradient. Most things in writing are not black and white, and this discussion is no exception.

About the Author: Laura Carlson is founder and editor of American Editing Services, an editing business based out of Santa Barbara, California. She specializes in content editing for both fiction and nonfiction manuscripts. She has also edited everything from articles in trade magazines to academic papers and dissertations. She is a professional member of ACES and regularly attends writers conferences.

Tell me your opinion: Can you identify any fillers in your WIP?

Related Posts: How to Use Scene Breaks to Cut the Fat

Don’t Tie off Your Scenes With a Ribbon

Is Your Scene Break a Lying, Cheating Fraud?

December 14, 2012
26 Comments
K.M. Weiland
Posted in Editing , Feature , revision , scene breaks , scenes

Wordplay

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**Options for Scene Conflict**

Is Your Conflict Integral?

**Questions to Ask About Your Scene Conflict**

Scene Conflict in Action

Passion

Pick topics that evoke emotion.

Obsession

**Options for Scene Goals**

Partial and Overarching Goals

**Questions to Ask About Your Scene Goals**

Scene Goals in Action

Music Encourages Focus

Music Enhances Mood

Music Promotes Inspiration

Music Encourages Us to Seek Inspiration

Building Block #1: Goal

Building Block #2: Conflict

Building Block #3: Disaster (Outcome)

**The Scene in Action**

Where I Often See Filler

Why Do Authors Fall Into the Trap of Inserting Filler?

Why Filler Is a Bad Thing

How to Correct Filler

The Caveat

What's the longest break you've ever taken from writing?

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