Some Scene Should be Hard to Write

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

I was happily writing along in my WIP, the next Romeo thriller, and things were going pretty much as planned. That’s a great phrase for an outliner…as planned preceded by pretty much. That gives me the right amount of room to enhance or deviate from the plot outline while knowing I’ll still be on track with the overall story.

But then I came to a scene and it started fighting me. I had it outlined. I knew the general structure of the scene. But it wouldn’t flow. I’d start, write a few lines, then stop because it felt…not right.

Why was this happening? Was I overthinking? Trying too hard? That’s certainly a danger in our craft. The vile scourge of perfectionism is always lurking in the shadows. The old advice First get it written, then get it right applies. We should write like we’re in love, and only later edit like we’re in charge.

But I wasn’t loving this scene.

Finally, it hit me. The reason I was having a tussle with it is that it’s one of the most crucial in the entire series (this book will be #9). In fact, what happens here will affect all the books in the future.

Then I had a further thought: That’s why it’s hard, Bucko. It should be!

Because the difficulty was telling me that I’d hit on a vein of story that was deeper than I first thought. It was my signal that the richest material was still there in the rocks, and it was time to chip away and find it.

Raymond Chandler once said of Dashiell Hammett, “He did over and over again what only the best writers can ever do at all. He wrote scenes that never seemed to have been written before.”

Wouldn’t you like readers to say that about you? By going deep into the difficult, you can get there.

Now, some say that’s too much work. Why not let the characters decide? This brings up the oft-cited experience, “My characters took over.”

Let’s think about that.

In one sense, it’s good to have a character surprise you from time to time, because that means the character will surprise the reader, too.

But then again, who’s the boss? Are the characters running the show, or the writer?

I know there are some who advocate always following the characters, wherever they lead.

But what if it’s off a cliff?

Bradbury famously said you should jump off that cliff and grow wings on the way down. Far be it from me to disagree with the great Ray, but it seems to me it worked best for his primary métier, short fiction. It is less successful in his full-length novels, especially the crime ones that came later in his career.

So I kept digging into the difficult. I re-wrote the scene maybe a dozen times, tweaking, discarding, adding and subtracting sentences.

There was a moment when one of the two principal characters was supposed to say, “Yes.” But I found myself typing, “No.”

The next morning, I woke up with the conviction that it shouldn’t be either Yes or No (see Sue’s post on answering Yes/No questions). I came up with something else and, finally, it clicked. I felt like Goldilocks tasting the porridge and pronouncing it “just right.” (Or “Just Write” as the case may be.)

So now it’s all settled and I can move on.

Until it’s time to edit, when I read the scene again.

Ack!

Do you think a scene should ever be hard to write? Or are you more with the “merrily we roll along no matter what” school of writing?

32 thoughts on “Some Scene Should be Hard to Write

  1. I think you’re right. My sole thriller was extremely hard to write. The intertwingling of story/plot/character arc didn’t lend itself to linear development. I discovered a real locked room mystery in the middle of other Hitler shenanigans, and I had to add the tec and his side kick’s (Carl Jung and Mary Bancroft’s) solution process to that and more challenges. All that and retain historical accuracy AND make it all sound plausible.
    Slow development is better than none. Walks in the nearby botanic gardens helped. Brainstorming. And tons of research.

    • I like that walk in the gardens idea, J. Then afterward, brainstorming, listening to the boys in the basement. I do this almost every time with my endings.

  2. I don’t know if they should be, but they sure are. I have found, when moving spritely along and suddenly bog down, that something important is happening. Or, more likely, I have veered off into a ditch. I have learned to trust that feeling. I leave the scene, go smoke a cigar, contemplate nature, file my taxes, whatever, and after a time–this can be hours or weeks–the solution will suddenly come to me, in a “this is so obvious how could I have missed it” moment. Never fails. But it sure takes time and a lot of effort.

  3. Yes, I do think some scenes are harder to write than others. But, as you mentioned, those scenes mean we’re at a critical point. When I hit such a scene, I stop, take a walk to think about it, come back and write a little more. Rinse and repeat. It’s grueling and frustrating. Though once our agony ends, the scene is often pure gold and the book/series is stronger for the effort.

  4. Jim, you’ve described what it’s like to give a project your best effort, and that comes from being fully engaged. Those scenes that seem to write themselves flow naturally when your mind and body work as one. But as you say, some scenes challenge you to discover the disconnect between your emotional core and your thoughts. The process of reconciling them is a rewarding challenge for both the writer and reader.

  5. I think this is true. I had an ending for my first crime fiction novel and something hit me. I needed to add a red herring. It was so important for the story. I also had to think of a new ending, one that readers would never see coming. I didn’t even see it coming and I’m the writer.

    • Right on, Jillian. When the “right” scene pops up for an ending, it’s one of the more satisfying moments in our writing life. My endings (that is, the villain reveal) are usually planned, though how it happens is fluid. And, of course, subject to changed without notice.

  6. Now I have to know what that character said. Any hints?

    Great article! I always look forward to your Sunday posts.

  7. I’m getting closer to wrapping things up, and these are usually the hardest scenes to write for me, because they have to be RIGHT on all levels. I might not have known where I was going when I started, but by now, I should be moving in a straight line. And then some unforeseen detail shows up, and progress slows until I make sure the answer (can you take a train from Nuremberg to Zurich without a passport?) doesn’t derail the forward motion.

    • Yep, the ol’ hanging threads isssue. Sometimes for me it means adding a minor character at the end to give some valuable info…meaning I have to go back and put that character in some previous scenes.

      Weaving tapestries, that’s what we do.

  8. Thank you, James, for a post I needed to read today. I’m struggling with a particular scene with a Sci-Fi Techno/Thriller that takes place (serendipity alert) on a Mexican-run asteroid mining colony 200 years in the future. Digging deep for the suspended disbelief required for the time and setting and coupling that with plausible verisimilitude with the story questions is, well, let’s say my shaft isn’t deep enough yet. And the work is slow and dangerous in that without this my cake of a story will fall. I’ve finally accepted that writing this story is harder than any I’ve written and to take all the time I need.

    As someone who worked years in mining, including 5 years in an underground coal mine, I appreciate the metaphor and photograph you selected for your post more than you know.

  9. “Because the difficulty was telling me that I’d hit on a vein of story that was deeper than I first thought.”

    What a valuable, timely insight, Jim! I’ve been facing a similar rock wall in my WIP (coincidentally #9 also). I tried chipping away at it from various angles but couldn’t reach the vein that I know is there, but hidden.

    For more than a month, I threw the problem down the stairs into the basement but the boys must have been on vacation. Finally figured out the major revelation came through the wrong character, a detective instead of the person most affected by the revelation. Now I’m reworking the scenes leading up to it in her eyes. Going much better.

    Last week, an interviewer asked me, “After eight books, do they get easier?”

    Nope.

    • Don’t you hate that? The boys on vacation? I mean, after all the coffee and donuts they get? Whew.

      And right on about not getting easier. Because our standards get higher, we know more than we did the last time. But that’s what makes it all so satisfying when it works.

  10. I’m glad to hear that others have problems with certain scenes. In my WIP, I’ve had several times when the scenes just didn’t feel right. When I looked for answers, I found that the whole plot needed to shift at that point. It had been easy to outline, but it didn’t work when I tried to write it. Something kept telling me that I had taken the wrong turn in the road.

    • That mysterious “something kept telling me” voice. Hard to distinguish from the perfectionism voice. Crucial, however, to learn to tell the difference, right?

  11. Good stuff, Jim! Like some others, needed to read this today.

    My most difficult scenes to write are the ones I’m emotionally invested in. In both of my novels, and some parts of my first three creative non-fictions, characters had to live through something I’ve lived. At first punch, I lifted my fingers from the keyboard and said, “No way! I’m not going there again…”. But I had to, because the story demanded it.

    I don’t write thrillers/crime novels, but I read them–it’s my favorite genre to read for the pure joy of reading. And, as a reader, I can say that those “hard scenes” give me that sense of knowing the character. And that’s what I want! 🙂

    Happy Sunday!

    • “No way! I’m not going there again…”. But I had to, because the story demanded it.

      That’s a great description, Deb. The nice thing is you can always “go there” and later pull back if need be. But the material will have surfaced, and is there to be shaped.

  12. It’s interesting the way some scenes seem to flow through the fingertips onto the keyboard and others get stuck in the brain and can’t find their way out. Now that you mention it, Jim, it seems like the most foundational scenes are the hardest to write.

    I’ve noticed some of my best writing takes place when I’m away from the keyboard. Maybe out running or doing the laundry or reading, but always ruminating over the problem areas. It’s like one of those pictures you have to unfocus your eyes to see what’s hidden in it. Then a new character or a new idea or a new something occurs to me, and I can’t wait to get back to the story.

    • I love that feeling too, Kay, of can’t wait to get back to the keyboard.

      And what you call running I call sitting and drinking coffee. It’s all the same, right?

  13. I feel for you – and am stuck in exactly the same place. Unfortunately, it’s the second scene in the final book in my mainstream trilogy, and it’s crucial.

    There have been so many insights in the couple of months since I started this one that I’m overwhelmed, and yes, it’s important, and worth all that – and now I have to be brave when I write what I’ve discovered…

    But I didn’t think it was going to happen this soon in this book, and felt I was starting to lose it.

    Instead, I think I’m going to realize how important it is to the trilogy when the next bunch of scenes are so much easier!

    I hope. If the whole book goes this way, I’m in trouble. I always know WHERE I’m going when I write, but not HOW, and this HOW is tough.

    The first two books had scenes that took me a long time to get right, and, since I write sequentially, essentially brought the whole enterprise to a halt, but this one… Aargh!

    Good luck with yours.

  14. I’m glad to know the next Romeo is on the horizon! I’ve just started book 18 and am at the point of “You can do this. You’ve done it before.” Once I get past the first doorway of no return, it’ll get easier…I hope. but no guarantee.

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