
Now that we’ve concluded our exploration of the first part of the Scene—the scene—let’s take a minute to explore variations upon that standard model of goal/conflict/disaster. You’ve already probably thought up some successful scenes, in your own stories and in popular books and movies, that don’t seem to quite fit the proposed structure. How exactly does that work? Is it one of those “if-you’re-famous-you-can-get-away-with-anything” instances, or are there credible exceptions?
Although, there are undoubtedly a few of the former lurking about, the truth is Scene structure can flex to fit nearly any proposed situation in your story. As with just about anything in writing, the key to breaking the rule is, first, knowing the rule and, second, knowing why you’re breaking it.
3 Variations on the Scene Goal
1. The Goal Belongs to a Character Other Than the Narrator
Most of the time you want your scene’s POV character to be the one with the most at stake. There will, however, be occasions when a scene’s POV character is just an observer to the main action. The POV character will always have a scene goal, but this goal may not always be the one that drives the conflict and disaster.
For example, the POV character may want nothing more than to make a PB&J sandwich, while his sister wants to get the attention of the cute TV repairman working in the living room. Your POV character here may be just an observer to the greater stakes of love and war. However, his observation and probable input must either immediately or eventually relate back to his story. And if you can tie in the other person’s goal and conflict with the narrator’s, so much the better—for example, perhaps his sister’s flirting interferes with his lunch goals.
2. The Goal Is Discovered After the Scene Begins
Structuring Your Novel (affiliate link)
Although your character will usually have decided upon a goal at the end of the previous sequel (more on that in future posts), this won’t always be the case. Sometimes a character will enter a scene without yet knowing what she wants.
Don’t ever let a character wander aimlessly for too long, but if you need to introduce certain events to set up the goal, don’t be afraid to give a scene a little time to develop its objective.
3. The Goal Is Implied Instead of Directly Stated
Stating your character’s goals at the beginning of a scene grounds readers and helps them focus on the point of the scene. But don’t underestimate the power of subtlety. Sometimes a character’s goal will be obvious—both from the context (for example, he runs into a bank with a hood over his head and a gun in his hand) and/or from the decision at the end of the previous sequel. Therefore, if you feel your character’s scene goal is obvious, you may not need to refer to it outright.
2 Variations on Scene Conflict
1. The Scene Opens With the Conflict Instead of the Goal
Beginning a scene in medias res is a great way to hook readers into the action. Instead of dawdling about with setup, you’re often better off cutting to the chase. This variation can go hand-in-hand with that of the implied goal, discussed above. However, you can also put it to use in situations in which a direct statement of the goal is still necessary. After opening in the middle of the conflict, slow down for just a sentence or two to let readers know what the character is after.
You’ll want to use this variation carefully, since readers need to be oriented in a scene as quickly as possible. You don’t want readers floundering around, trying to figure out what in thunderation is going on.
2. The Conflict Is Understated
Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway (affiliate link)
Conflict doesn’t have to mean guns blazing—or even tempers flaring. Sometimes your scene’s conflict should remain understated. Ernest Hemingway’s classic short story “Hills Like White Elephants” offers an apropos example, in which the characters’ small talk (about whether or not the hills look like elephants) hides a deeper relational conflict brewing under the surface.
1 Variation on Scene Disasters
1. The Scene Ends Before the Disaster
Sometimes you will need your scene disaster/outcome to occur off-screen or merely through implication. This might be either because you don’t want to show the disaster in detail (the ol’ cut-and-fade used in old movies to avoid unsavory details) or because the disaster needs to take place in a different time and place, effectively distancing it from the current scene. You’ll have no problem doing this, as long as you close with the threat of disaster. Readers will fill in the blanks and get the same bang for their buck as they would if you included the disaster full-on.
3 Variations on the Scene As a Whole
1. The Entire Scene Is Skipped, Implied, or Summarized
One of the easiest ways to control pacing is to manipulate the length of scenes and sequels. Generally speaking, emphasis on scenes speeds things up; emphasis on sequels slows things down.
Although scene and sequel are both integral halves of the Scene, you still sometimes perform a sleight of hand with either of them. For example, in the case of the scene, you may sometimes feel your story will be better off for downplaying certain events. The scene may take place entirely off-screen, or it may be summarized briefly at the beginning of your sequel. This is an important technique but always one to be used with caution. Your scene is your story. Avoid too many, and your story will teeter.
2. The Scene Is Interrupted by a New Scene
Sometimes the introduction of new information or events will stop your current goal/scene before it plays out and, in its place, begin a new scene dynamic.
For example, your character may begin a scene with a specific goal, only to be interrupted by a new catalyst that causes her to abruptly change goals. Maybe she wants to apologize to her husband with a new set of golf clubs—but then alien lasers take out the sports store and her priorities change in an instant.
When possible, you’ll eventually want to return to the original goal, just to tie off loose ends, but this might not happen until the end of the story.
3. A POV Switch Interrupts the Scene
Behold the Dawn (Amazon affiliate link)
If you’re using more than one POV narrator, you may sometimes find it necessary to switch horses mid-scene structure. Because a POV switch is indicated on the page in the same way as a normal Scene break, we tend to think a new POV always means a new Scene. However, this isn’t necessarily so. Here’s an example from my historical novel Behold the Dawn, which switches POVs in the middle of a dialogue exchange—and therefore necessarily within the middle of the scene itself.
Annan swallowed and brushed his hands across the front of his tunic. “That is what he has deceived himself into believing.” He stood, and he could sense more than see the tension that swept over her. She was suddenly like a hare, tensed, ready to run if the hound came but one step nearer.
“Lady Mairead.”
“What?” She spoke breathlessly, and he could almost hear the heavy beat of her heart.
“You’re afraid of me.”
Mairead’s breath caught so hard that pricks of light studded her vision. So here it was. She had hoped that if she kept him in the conversation, if she made him think of other things, that perhaps the night would pass.
But no. He was only a tourneyer, a man with the blood of countless knights upon his hands. What was one defenseless woman to him? He could crush her backbone in his arms without trying, and the deed would never darken his thoughts.
This is all part of the same scene. The setting hasn’t changed, the characters’ individual goals haven’t changed, and only a few seconds separate the break. The switch was made in order to get inside Mairead’s head, since she was now the character with more at stake. But both POV halves are part of the same scene, which means they must still adhere to the proper three-part structure. The only difference is that the structure is now divided between two characters’ perspectives, with the emphasis on both their goals.
>>Click here to read “7 Questions You Have About Scenes vs. Chapters”
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Don’t be afraid to play around with scene structure, but always do so with purposeful intent. If you stray from the stability of the standard arc, make sure you know why you’re doing it and that the aberration will create a better story.
*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 the Three Building Blocks of the Sequel.
Complete Series:
- Part 1: Mastering the Two Different Types of Scene
- Part 2: The Three Building Blocks of the Scene
- Part 3: Options for Goals in a Scene
- Part 4: Options for Conflict in a Scene
- Part 5: Options for Disasters in a Scene
- Part 6: Variations on the Scene
- Part 7: The Three Building Blocks of the Sequel
- Part 8: Options for Reactions in a Sequel
- Part 9: Options for Dilemmas in a Sequel
- Part 10: Options for Decisions in a Sequel
- Part 11: Variations on the Sequel
- Part 12: Frequently Asked Questions About Scene Structure
- Further Posts About Scene Structure
Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! Can you think of a successful scene that varies from standard structure? Tell me in the comments!
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