Writing tips — How to build a scene by S.J.A.Turney #amwriting #wordbuilding #tips @SJATurney

How to build a scene...

By S.J.A Turney

So, I write books. You probably know, or guess, that at least. And it occurred to me while working an edit on my draft recently that there are possibly authors out there who don’t have to repeatedly tweak what they’ve written. There may be people who write the perfect scene from square one and can just turn it over to their editor with a confident smile. I’m not one. You see, I think it’s because I write very fast. Working from my plan I will turn out a 5000 word chapter in a day’s work. But that is a draft. It will need self-editing before I can be happy with it. Each time I edit a scene (and some will take more editing than others) I build it up in layers. I’m going to give you a small example. Let’s start with this. I’m going to write a quick scene, just a paragraph or so long.

* * *

Philip adjusted his sword belt and straightened. The landsknecht with the greatsword and the scowl like a week-long thunderstorm simply narrowed his eyes and tapped a foot. So much for pre-amble, Philip mused, flexing his fingers.

‘I can only apologise so many times before it becomes repetitive begging. I had no idea she was your sister.’

The landsknecht’s narrowed left eye acquired an instant twitch. Good. Anything that might throw the man off balance had to help.

* * *

This, then is a basic and swiftly-written scene. It’s bones lacking flesh. The first thing I think when I look back over it is ‘where is the colour?’ It’s mechanics of a scene without the flesh. A terminator without the human touches. It needs to breathe, to live. Damn it. Let’s add some colour. Time for my first edit…

* * *

Philip adjusted his sword belt, the old tan leather flaking and falling away in fragments, and straightened to his full height. The landsknecht with the gleaming greatsword and the scowl like a week-long thunderstorm simply narrowed his steel-grey, unnerving eyes and tapped a heavy-booted foot impatiently. So much for pre-amble, Philip mused, flexing his bruised fingers and glancing down at them in worry.

‘I can only apologise so many times before it becomes repetitive begging. I had no idea she was your sister.’

The landsknecht’s narrowed left eye acquired an instant twitch. Good. Anything that might throw the man off balance had to help.

* * *

Not much changed there, but just a read through and it looks better to me. Already it has acquired feeling and a touch more visual. And people might say that visual is for cinema, but the best literature is so cinematic you can almost watch the book. It needs to be visual. Ooh, so what about conditions? Atmosphere? Weather? Without that it’s still just really mechanical text. Time for another layer.

* * *

Philip adjusted his sword belt, the battered leather flaking and falling away in fragments, and straightened to his full height. The cold November day settled into his bones, doing little to quieten his already tattered nerves. Somewhere above him a crow cawed angrily. Philip shivered.

The landsknecht with the gleaming greatsword and the scowl like a week-long thunderstorm simply narrowed his steel-grey, unnerving eyes and tapped a heavy-booted foot on the frosty turf impatiently. So much for pre-amble, Philip mused, flexing his bruised fingers and glancing down at them in worry.

‘I can only apologise so many times before it becomes mindless repetitive begging. I had no idea she was your sister.’

The landsknecht’s narrowed left eye acquired an instant twitch and his breathing became deep and angry. Good. Anything that might throw the man off balance had to help. Crow shit clanged off the man’s shoulder plate. The twitch deepened even as Philip fought the rising laugh.

* * *

Ooh, see what happened there? We acquired a whole new aspect to the scene. The crow became something of a character. On that pass, I also found myself removing just the odd word, because it can also be that less is more. I think my scene has all it needs now. It has the colour, the environment, the atmosphere, the personality and more. But what it has now is almost certainly too much of it. Time for my last pass. This time not to add a layer, but to streamline what I have. The best edits also include a surgical removal of bad tissue.

* * *

Philip adjusted his sword belt, the battered leather flaking and falling away, and straightened. The cold November air settled into his bones, doing little to quieten his already tattered nerves. Somewhere above him a crow cawed, making him shiver.

The landsknecht with the gleaming greatsword and the scowl like a week-long thunderstorm narrowed his steel-grey, disconcerting eyes and tapped a booted foot on the frosty turf. So much for pre-amble, Philip mused, flexing his bruised fingers and glancing down at them nervously.

‘I can only apologise so many times before it becomes mindless begging. I had no idea she was your sister.’

The landsknecht’s narrowed eye acquired a twitch and his breathing became deep and angry. Good. Anything that might throw the man off balance had to help. Bird shit clanged from the man’s shoulder plate. The eye twitch deepened even as Philip silently thanked the crow.

* * *

Now my scene is ready for the editor, I think. And if you’ve not noticed the huge difference in the passage, I would suggest that you pop back to the start, read the draft, and then zip right down here to the final version.

So there you go. Scene building in layers. Might not be good for everyone, but for me it’s invaluable. Oh, and as a final thought, I’ll leave you to wonder how many edits the non-story parts of the text here had!

Praetorian: Lions of Rome

Rufinus is dead, crumpled at the base of a cliff in far-off Dacia. Or so the world believes. Back in the west, secretly in the entourage of the fierce Septimius Severus, the young hero moves in the shadows with fellow conspirators in an attempt to finally bring down the would-be tyrant of Rome: Cleander.

Under assumed names and in a variety of roles, the former Praetorian conspires with some of the most important men in Rome, bringing the city to the very brink of disaster in a grand and complex plot to cause the fall of the untouchable chamberlain.

And as governors, prefects, Praetorians and consuls work their secret plots in the seedy underbelly of Rome, Rufinus finds he has an opportunity to settle old scores along the way.

The empire is suffering. Rome is seething. Rufinus is back.

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Simon Turney

A born and bred Yorkshireman with a love of country, history and architecture, Simon spends most of his rare free time travelling around ancient sites, writing, researching the ancient world and reading voraciously.

Following an arcane and eclectic career path that wound through everything from sheep to Microsoft networks and from paint to car sales, Simon wrote Marius' Mules. Now, with in excess of twenty novels under his belt, Simon writes full time. He lives with his wife and children and a menagerie of animals in rural North Yorkshire.

Find Simon: Website • Blog • Facebook • Twitter.