A how-to-write essay series by Ava Clary

When you write be Dynamic and Dramatic

I’m trying to figure out how ‘show, don’t tell’ works. What do people mean by show?

Well, I’ve decided it means you write dynamically. You make drama happen.

Here’s a scene I’m thinking about. I’ll start by describing a hotel and a woman arriving at the hotel. She’s gotten lost on the way and is supposed to meet someone in the lobby. She’s late and searches frantically.

Yawn. Boring. I can already tell it’s not dramatic enough.

Instead, try this.

Start with a rental car screeching into a parking spot, then a young woman stumbles out of the car and her high heel shoe twists. She scraps her knee, and limps toward the hotel entrance. All the while her phone keeps beeping and her hands tremble as she tries to answer it. She’s trying not to cry and does anyway. “You’re late,” the voice barks at her. How does she respond? What kind of person is she? Why is she in such a hurry? Who is she meeting?

Hopefully, that sounds more dramatic, and it makes you keep reading to find out the answers to those questions.

Now, if it was me. I’d also add an unexpected problem, like a dragon in the lobby of the hotel. That would keep me interested.

A dynamic scene isn’t flat

A static scene isn’t just boring. It’s pointless. Why waste your time?  If the story isn’t going anywhere then why read it? You need your characters to move. A dynamic scene moves. It evokes mystery or drama or romance.

The word dynamic makes me think of dynamite.  Pretend you have a scene and then metaphorically light a stick of dynamite. First you light the fuse, and then it slowly starts to burn. It fizzes as it gets shorter and closer to the dynamite. Then comes

CRACK

BOOM

EXPLOSION

Yeah, that’s how you do it. Make your scenes explode. No pressure or anything. Start with your character, build on it, and then kapow-bang-pop.

How to write a scene that scares me

I love when I’m reading a story and I can sense something big is coming. But I also find it terrifying. If I can sense the person is about to do something stupid, or an awkward party is about to happen, and they’re going to get caught, I squirm. I read faster so it’s over sooner. If I’m watching a move, I wiggle in my seat or I leave the room until it’s over.

Example 1: Pride and Prejudice

The dinner scene when Mary goes to play the piano, and she sings off-key. Her sisters cringe with embarrassment, but they endure it. Then Mary goes to play another one and their father must step in and tell her ‘that’s enough.’ Oh, I can’t stand it. I can’t watch it happen.

Example 2 Dracula

I’ve never finished this book. The first time I stopped in the middle of the prologue because of the will-o-wisps. They scared me. I had nightmares about them as a child. Blue ones in a barn. It was terrible. So, when he’s in the carriage and sees the will-o-wisps, I shut the book and moved on.

Several years later, I tried again. This time I read the entire prologue. I didn’t like reading it at night. Yes, I am a baby when it comes to horror (Dracula in particular). Still, I got through it, and then the story begins and it’s two women in a parlor talking about getting married. Oh, the horror. The pleasant scene, the happy upcoming nuptials. What bliss and delight. Meanwhile, my brain is thinking about – where is Dracula? WHERE IS DRACULA? OMG is he going to come in and ruin these women? No. No no no.

I shut the book and have yet to return. Take that Dracula. You can’t touch those women if I don’t read your book. You can’t – sigh…. I know it doesn’t work like that. Dracula will probably killed them, or at least torment them and I just couldn’t bear to read it – because I knew it was coming. The dread. The horror. That’s what scares me.

A dramatic scene doesn’t have to terrify me, but that’s the energy I aim for when I’m writing. I want to write with a stick of dynamite in hand, so you never know what’s going to happen, but you know it’s coming. Watch out.