Rich Penney – How to Write an Action Scene (Speed)

Do you write action scenes? Some of the best action scenes I have ever read have been written by Rich Penney in Desa Kincaid. I loved this Western style fantasy! Readers and writers have been asking Rich how he writes them so well and on Creator’s Roulette today, he is spilling the beans!

This is part 1 of 2 tutorials on writing action scenes and I hope that you will give it a try! The next part will be out tomorrow so check back then to read part 2 and grab a downloadable compilation of both these posts.

Now, get ready, take out an action scene that you want to edit or write a brand new one! Practice is the best way to learn.

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“If you are looking for a diverse set of characters, an amazing storyline and jaw-dropping action scenes, you have to read Desa Kincaid: Bounty Hunter.” That was how Kriti began her review of my novel. Since then, I’ve received many more reviews, and almost every single one of them mentions the action scenes. A lot of people wonder how I do it. Well, today, you’re going to learn.

I’m Rich Penney, and this is my masterclass.

I design my action scenes around two simple principles: speed and clarity. We’re going to be splitting this lesson into two posts to cover each of these concepts. We’ll start with speed.

Speed

A fast pace is necessary to capture the emotional flow of the scene. Your character’s life is on the line. People are shooting at her or throwing magic at her or any number of a thousand things that could kill her. Take a moment and imagine this.

You’re in a forest. Thick trees rise up all around you, their leaves fluttering in the wind. It’s hot and muggy; you can feel the sweat on your brow. The mud is soft under your shoes. If you’re not careful, you could slip. You’ve been running for an hour. There’s nothing you want more than to stop and catch your breath, but that’s not an option.

You have just stolen a priceless artifact from a man who desecrates ancient burial sites, and he has sent his best henchman after you.

You can see the guy coming. He’s tall, pale with graying hair, and he wears a leather jacket. You catch a brief glimpse of him as he raises his gun and points it at you. Desperate, you duck behind a thick oak tree. The gun goes off.

A bullet rushes past you, scraping bark off the trunk.

Now pause.

What happens next?

In my experience, a lot of authors get sidetracked at a moment like this. They have the main character think about his love interest. Or they use this as an opportunity to tell you more about what the artifact is, why it’s so important. All of that stuff is great, but not when the character is in a life-or-death situation. The character’s thoughts should fit the context. They should be frantic, disjointed. A sentence or two here or there can have a real emotional punch. “Celia doesn’t know I’m out here…What will she think if I don’t come home?”

Now stop! Right there! You’re done. (Short, declarative sentences. They are your best friend when you are writing action scenes). Don’t have the character try to answer his own question. Don’t let him drift off into some reverie. Stay in the moment. Keep his attention focused on the immediate problem.

An action scene is about what your character is DOING, not what he is thinking.  It’s called an action scene for a reason.

There is one rule I follow religiously when I’m trying to create suspense:  always ask yourself “What would happen if I actually did this?” If you stood around thinking about your girlfriend while a man with a gun was closing in on you, he would sneak up on you, and he would kill you.

Some authors try to cheat, using the fluidity of time as a get out of jail free card. Now, what do I mean by “the fluidity of time?”

Well, picture this.

At last, the tunnel opened into a massive room with a hole in the ceiling, allowing sunlight to filter in through the base of the crystal. It cast sparkling patterns on the stone walls, each one unique and magnificent.

In the centre of the room, a raised floor that stood only a hair’s breadth taller than Desa herself was positioned directly under the crystal. There were unlit torches at all four corners; so, it was an altar of some kind.

Bendarian stood there with hands clasped behind himself, smiling down at her as he watched her approach. It was Bendarian – she knew that without a doubt – but he looked nothing like the man she remembered.

It took you about thirty seconds (give or take) to read all of that, but Desa visually processed what she saw in about one second. Time for the character doesn’t flow at the same rate as time for the reader. Intuitively, we all understand this. But some authors push it too far.

Returning to our example of the young hero hiding behind a tree while a man with a gun closes in on him, some authors will exploit the fluidity of time to give you a page and a half about the hero’s girlfriend and how sad he is that might never see her again. They’ll do this with the tacit understanding that he had all of these complex thoughts in the space of three seconds. The intention is to create an emotional connection, to get you invested in the hero’s plight, but the sad irony is that it often has the opposite effect.

Putting aside the believability of whether the character could think up a six-hundred-word essay in eloquent prose while he is afraid for his life, this diversion from the main thrust of the scene completely kills the suspense.

We were getting invested. We heard the gunshot; we saw the bad guy getting closer. It triggered these primal fight-or-flight instincts. The reader’s heartrate is starting to speed up. And then all of a sudden…

“I’ve known Celia ever since our first year of college. The first time I looked into her gorgeous, blue eyes, I knew she was the one. Call me a hopeless romantic, but when you know, you know. That our story should end like this, with my corpse lying in the forest while Celia fills out a missing person’s report, is tragic. Fate, it seems, is a cruel mistress. If I could just speak to her one more-”

No!

No! No! No!

The emotional flavor of this info-dump – which is supposed to be touching and melancholy – is completely at odds with the suspense that you were building up a moment earlier. The reader cannot switch back and forth between them.

The suspense you felt as you pictured the bad guy creeping closer with his gun in hand doesn’t just stay on hold in the back of your mind. It fades to be replaced with new emotions depending on what you’re reading.

When the action resumes, the reader is no longer in the right frame of mind for it. The author has to build that suspense back up again, and they often do a poor job of it. Hence speed. When someone is shooting at you, it doesn’t happen at a lethargic pace. It happens at a frantic pace. Stay in the moment. Keep the narrative tight. Build the suspense and stick with the scene until you’ve reached its resolution.

“Okay, Rich, but when should I develop my character’s relationship with his girlfriend?”

Literally any other time.

Okay, so now we’ve covered the principle of speed. Next time, we’ll get into the principle of clarity, where we discuss the nuts and bolts of how to write an action scene. See you soon.

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Are you going to try your hand at a short action scene, focusing on speed? Share your work in the comments! 🙂

Check back tomorrow for the 2nd and final part of Rich’s tutorial. At that time, you can also download both parts 1 and 2 for your reference as a PDF.

Want to connect with Rich? Here are ways to find him:

Twitter

Website: R.S. Penney on Strikingly

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash
Old watch from Unsplash