Saturday, 6 January 2018

The Idiot's Guide To Writing Fight Scenes


In almost everything covered on this blog, from film to fiction, fight scenes tend to be an essential part of them. These can be large scale battles, individual duels or even abrupt skirmishes, and yet they always show up. As such, more often than not these are typically praised or criticised on how they establish certain sequences. It's high time we went into this in a bit more detail, if only to cover where a few criticisms are coming from. That and, to be honest, there are more than a few aspiring writers out there who struggle when it comes to this sort of subject matter.


Now, just to establish a few things first - These are very general rules. Every author tends to approach combat in a different way, from emphasising upon individual blow-by-blow accounts to more atmospheric descriptions which help to build up more of an individual image in a person's mind. Some even detail them purely through the eyes of others, or try to work around them in their stories. None of these are issues which invalidate the quality of the work in question, nor is there an inherently wrong way to approach this. After all, both Joanne Harris and Chuck Wendig take more of an off-handed approach with their combat scenes. That doesn't change the fact that one is an award-winning author rightfully praised for their work across multiple genres, while the other one inflicted Star Wars: Aftermath on an unwitting populace.


Another point is simply this - I am not an author. Any stories I pen on here or in private are for personal entertainment and to help stay in perspective when it comes to criticising the plot, structures, and presentation. I simply read a lot, run RPGs and try to maintain an open mind. As such, this is only coming partially from experience, but a great deal is coming from examples found across a multitude of works, from comics to films to literature.


Finally, there are exceptions to these rules. They are not set absolutely in stone, but nor are they guidelines. These are just the stage-by-stage basic establishments that seem to work best when penning fights. However, those who do subvert them or twist things about tend to be those who have penned them a few hundred times over. It's always worth mastering something before you try to completely subvert it.


With that done, here's an idiot's guide to writing fight scenes in a few basic stages.



Establish the Scene




This sounds like something basic, doesn't it? A minor thing which should be there on page one. Quite literally in many cases. However, there are more than a few situations where people get this wrong. If you have two people fighting somewhere, you need to give the reader an anchor to work onto. Something for them to latch onto and focus upon as you build up the scene.


The easiest one of these is the most literal version, where a writer will establish the scene in question. They will pick an environment and general area, then begin to outline it either prior to or as the story leads into a fight. If a place is in ruins, describe their nature and the general state of them. Use the character's inner thoughts to evoke an image or define the boundaries. If it's a much broader setting such as a city or you plan upon having them engage in a running battle, outline the general architecture, the basics of the location and the most notable details of the landscape in question. This is akin to building an establishing shot of a scene, where films will offer a broader view of an environment or basic landscape to give the audience context to what will follow.


If the actual setting in question is more nebulous for one reason or another - or you specifically want to avoid going into visual details for story reasons - have it focus upon the protagonist or the situation in question. Describe them, detail them, and find other areas to help give an impression of the situation you are leading into. For example, while it leads into a very brief and one-sided engagement, the introduction to Ahriman: Exile features the aftermath of a fight. It focuses upon the remaining loyalist marine wandering through a world which is the antithesis of reality itself, and works to create a bleak atmosphere by describing him, reflecting upon what has happened and making it clear just what his mental state is like. You "see" very little of his actual surroundings, but you are given a clear enough of a depiction to understand just what is going on and visualise the events in motion.


As this plays out, you can utilise it to build towards a moment of conflict. While establishing a scene, atmospheric details or even personal thoughts can lead towards a fight. Simply throw in a smoking gun. Perhaps something is wrong, perhaps something is out of place in the scene, or even note that whoever you are following is fleeing from someone. In the above example, the marine in question was part of a small scouting force slaughtered by traitor astartes, and he is the only one left. It works these details into the build-up of the scene, creating tension as it goes along.



Hook the Audience



Source

Ultimately, you are going to need one single moment which hooks the attention of the audience. This somewhat ties into that final point in the above section, in that you need something to encourage specific investment in this moment. Just something to help it stand out and to encourage the reader to focus upon the events which follow, above even those that had been there before.


Often the best way to do this is by introducing the actual opponent in question, if not hinting at their existence. Usually the impression of a threat, or something indicating that the protagonist is in for the fight of their lives is enough to accomplish this, but you can do far more than simply throw it in there. In fact, you can build towards it throughout an entire story for additional impact. This does not need to be overly nuanced or extremely subtle, but simply well handled. Several of the best examples of this stem from the late great Terry Pratchett's works, specifically Night Watch. Many of the hooks implying impending fights and grabbing the audience's attention stems from previous events or a connection to a core issue within the narrative. Here's a few examples:


For example, midway through the story Vimes, the protagonist, stumbles upon an Unmentionable (secret policeman) and clubs him. He is not a fan of them, and is seeking to throw a spanner in the works. The hook here stems from the realization that he not only has friends, but the leader among them is a sociopathic knife-nut, Carcer. The same one he was attempting to arrest during the opening act of the story.


During a later moment when they burn down the headquarters of this group, the Cable Street station, Vimes is forced to return in order to avert a horrible mistake. However, he is interrupted when he hears the sound of someone coming, with an unsteady gait and the rattle of a swordstick. This is the leader of the group, and someone Vimes knows is a skilled combatant who will likely seek his own twisted form of retribution.


Finally, once it is all over, once Vimes is home, he returns to the graves of his fallen friends, only to find that the hardboiled egg he once asked for - part of a running joke - has been smashed. Cue surprise attack from Carcer, out for revenge.


There are no pages upon pages of information here, nor some extremely slow build which is dragged out across a chapter. Each one is just as long as it needs to be, to lead into the situation and have the reader stop and have a quiet "Oh crap!" moment at each one. It can accomplish this because of how it incorporates smaller points and elements introduced earlier into the story to speed things along, and keep it at a brisk pace. What's more, you can even have multiple ones across a few pages to keep the reader's investment going and create a constant build-up. In the first example cited above, there's a follow-up moment where Carcer comes to understand he can get Vimes killed by focusing upon a very easy, very inexperienced, target. In the second, there's a much earlier one told by the environment itself, leading the protagonists into a very dark setting.

This isn't to say that you need to disregard a slow build-up entirely of course, it just depends

While much of this also comes down to suspense and build-up, you can work around this. How and when you direct it into the story, from the start of the fight scene to the beginning of an entire saga, is up to you. It all depends upon the theme of the fight in question, and the weight of events you want it to have. It's all down to the story you want to tell and the tone you wish to maintain, from a Tarantino-style Inglorious Basterds build-up with a split-second of violence, to a Star Wars Luke vs. Vader style fight. Genre can matter to this as well, somewhat, but that often comes down to splitting hairs. Most of the time, what works for one will lead into the other.



Plan Ahead, Build A Rhythm, Maintain A Perspective




The first two pointers are often the easiest to maintain and establish, but it's the next few which tend to matter the most. Especially when you are aiming to pen a very combat heavy story, or a great number of individual fights. It can be easy to visualise how a fight looks in your head, but it's more difficult to convey via the narrative itself. Just as a poorly defined environment can leave a reader confused, having a character perform seemingly physically impossible actions can completely throw them out of a sequence. Often, the more complex or acrobatic a fight is, the harder it is for the reader to keep track of events.


The best way to avert the obvious issues with fight-scene clarity is to plan ahead. Rather than simply winging-it, build a guideline and a basic plan of how you want things to progress. Consider how the general actions will play out, what turning point there will be in the battle and what sort of loss might be caused by this. If you need to pencil this down via storyboard work, or even use miniatures to figure out events, then both are perfectly viable means to help you translate this concept onto paper. Once you have a clear image in mind, however, you then need to consider how best to follow-through with presenting and outlining the work in question.
Perhaps the best way to accomplish a clear and focused fight scene is to build a rhythm within the sequence or even the narrative in question. Recurring elements, character traits or even defining qualities are all via
ble options, besides simply focusing on utilising the same tactics over and over again. 


For example, think of Gotrek from the Gotrek and Felix books. Anyone who has read them will immediately know what sort of combatant and character he is - an extraordinarily fast, hard-hitting and extremely tough axeman who won't rest until the enemy lies dead at his feet. He can take punishing blows which would fell most men without slowing down, and sheer stubborn belligerence constantly overrides any sense of fear he might have. That benefits the story, and the entire series, as it leaves the reader something familiar to consider and a baseline link to work from. You have a general impression of how Gotrek fights, what he can withstand, and the sort of moves which makes his fights so satisfying. This allows you to have a series of building blocks to work with, but it also means that you can re-arrange and easily play about with them as needed. Even he ends up performing an insane series of Indiana Jones stunts to win, there's an in-series rhythm to his actions to fall back on to reinforce it.


Another example of this sort of action stems from more of the world you wish to build and the tone you wish to maintain. Every setting has its own internal set of logic and what benefits it the most, from the Witcher/Hexer books to the Orcs series. In that particular case, some of it can be put down to the differences in high and low magic, but also the harshness of the world, the figures involved and the impact or seriousness of the risks taken. Both are similar to be sure, but anyone who has looked into either can attest that there are some very notable differences. If you wish to maintain a realistic tone, then having someone backflip out of the sky John Freeman style and fight army divisions with his bare bear hands will stick out like a sore thumb. Equally, if you have someone turning a crossbow into a sub-machine gun, bereft of the long and difficult reload times, that's going to quickly take the reader out of the experience.


Moreso than anything else though, you need to consider how the blows themselves are going to be exchanged and ultimately how the fight will be paced. If you build a constant pace to it, a constant exchange of actions going back and forth from one foe to the next, then you are evenly dividing the focus between them. You are never allowing one to be forgotten or come seemingly out of nowhere with an action, while also serving to better build an image of events going on. This doesn't need to be a swing-block-swing situation involving swords or fists, but it can be almost any overall action. A tense scene with someone hiding from a pursuer can be fitted into this by going back and forth between the character and those hunting them, with minor actions or even internal thoughts working towards this effect. 


Equally, maintaining a perspective by following one character during this sequence of events can be used to create a cohesive series of events. By showing it through their eyes, or even just following their actions, you can have far more control over how much you want to reveal, and just what they know. This also permits you to consider just how much of the environment you need to initially introduce, or what to reincorporate in more detail during the fight. The same goes for their thoughts, or even when and how you wish to introduce surprises as events play out, without it seeming cheap to the reader.



Concentrate Upon Character Depictions




Fights should not be there purely to convey action. While there is such a thing as mindless entertainment, with books you still need to think about how this is going to benefit the story as a whole. Even if this is intended to be a one-shot idea, perhaps a chance encounter with some thugs, you should consider how it serves the characters involved. After all, if it's really adding nothing to the overarching mythos of your book, the core story, and isn't supporting the characters, there's no reason to have it.


This admittedly ties somewhat into the Gotrek example cited above, but there is far more to this than just that. You need to seriously consider just how a character will move, act and behave during these sequences. If you create a man who is two meters tall, is in full plate armour and carries a tower shield, then how is he going to fight? Obviously, somewhat defensively, relying upon taking blows over dodging them. If someone has little more than a loincloth and is carrying a bronze sword, then the chances are they will be relying upon sheer speed and dodging attacks under most situations. It's a clear-cut and bold way to keep track of things, and that's what many of these stories need. You need to know more or less exactly how they will fight, act and kill in order to best utilise and describe them on either side of a battle. Both so you can create a clear visual distinction for the reader to keep track of, and make logical sense of their actions, but also how it compliments their personality.


The "five man band" is something often brought up in this regard, where you have a distinct role within the group aligning with a trope. This goes as much for their abilities as it does their personality, and one is quite often shaped by the other. This means that fight scenes or even moments of action are an excellent moment to explore these quirks, or even character evolution after it has been established. How they behave, how they act or their focus in combat should be determined by prior events somehow, and it should link into their motivation.


After all, if a series has a Knight Errant sworn to slay a demon and said demon shows up in a battle, you know that there is a risk of them breaking away. What will this lead to? How will this affect the flow of battle? What impact will this have following the engagement, if they are successful or not? A writer should consider all of these going into writing the fight itself. Without this sort of motivation, action or even exchanges, the fight can easily devolve into a simple exchange of parries and slashes. To what degree you wish for this to influence the fight is entirely up to you, but it should always be present to serve a greater purpose. That and also to make the fights unique, as this is a very easy way to prevent relentless violence from becoming white noise within the plot.



Make Every Punch Count




Any fight is going to be a battle of endurance. Rarely will someone walk away from an engagement without a scratch on them, and even those who do will often be drenched in sweat from the exertion. While the degree to which this is true will ultimately vary depending upon the species or rule of the setting you are writing, one thing should be clear - You need to make every punch count.


This isn't to say that you need to throw your character through a meat-grinder in every engagement, but there should be some aspect of a threat to it. Even if a Jedi is using the Force to move at incredible speed and deflect blaster bolts back at his opponents, there always needs to be an element of risk to the situation. A reminder that one bolt in the wrong place can take them down, or even that the situation is challenging even with their skills. Even if it's simply due to the sheer weight of numbers, you need to present an element of challenge and risk to the battle and a reminder that they are not immortal. Even if they are superior in every way, there are still opportunities to dealy this realisation. Superman, for all hsi power, is often knocked around by enemies as strong as he or even the impact of certain weapons. Corvus Corax, demigod that he is, slaughtered his way through an entire armoured division of troopers in Raven's Flight, but he still risked death due to the variety of forces opposing him.


The ability to take wounds and be worn down is a good way to hold the reader's attention, as they can carry over from one fight to the next. Lasting damage or losses are a notable factor in many battles, after all, and the need to recover from them or how it can influence someone's capabilities is an interesting premise for combat. If they are brought low due to an error on their part, or a minor wound from a previous battle wearing them down, that opens up story opportunities.


Even when you are seeking to subvert this by making an army seemingly invincible, you still need to emphasise this in some way. Work towards creating this sense of being an unstoppable juggernaut, and how borderline supernatural it is. Without that, this invulnerability can lack the meaning it needs to make the book seem incredible.


Keep It Short



I'll freely admit I cheated a bit with this one, but this was needed to prove a point. Out of all of these sections, which was the one you were ready to skip the most? Really, which was the one which you just took one look at, and then your eyes glazed over somewhat at the sheer length of it. For most of you that was likely the third point here. Now, those of you who took the time to read that, you will there are good points to it and that it offers some of the most essential information on this page. That doesn't help when it is so daunting it puts readers off, to the point where they risk skipping it. Especially when it could have easily been broken up into two halves.

The same is true of sentence structures, and it's essential in combat that you don't ramble. While you can get away with long paragraphs - and despite what some say to the contrary you should not be relentlessly limited to five words or less for every sentence - it always slows down events. Having a thirty-word weighty sentence helps to build atmosphere, with more detail and eloquence than you would get otherwise. Yet if you try to add that into the middle of a brawl, it will stand out like a sore thumb. In a moment of hesitation, or concussion you might be able to get away with this. Keep in mind, however, that those are always going to be the exceptions rather than the rule.


The shorter sentences also means that your fights in question will not drag on too long within the book. You can use fewer actions or statements to convey what is going on, and run far less of a risk of them outstaying their welcome. While this isn't to say that you need to constantly limit yourself, keep in mind one thing - Pacing. You have built up to a scene, created tension and then delivered a moment to hook the reader in and grab their attention. You need to offer something short an immediate to retain it, and for the event itself to remain tightly written to keep them going.



Use The Right Word At The Right Time




This is a very simple rule above all others - Choose your words very carefully. This is true of all stories, depending upon how you wish to write them and the nature of the universe in question. After all, part of what helps inspire the atmosphere within some Black Library novels is the choice of archaic words or rarely utilised statements to emphasise a clash of ages. This is especially true of the Fabius Bile books and, equally, you wouldn't expect to see modern day slang in a fantasy novel. Well, most of them anyway.

So, with combat, you need to carefully consider how to phrase actions and introduce elements as it goes along. The right mix of phrases can easily make or break a scene, to the point where you can create a personal black-list of words to avoid depending upon the genre, or even the individual situation in question. Using "suddenly" tends to be a big one with many authors, when you need to add in something new, as it's a cheap and very awkward way to introduce something different into a scene. You can probably think of more than a few others such as the ever cheesy "it was too late!" or "never" and even the wrong active verb. Using the wrong one can destroy a scene entirely.


Beyond even this, however, you need to also need to consider just how emotive and immediate the actions in question are, and when to let the reader's mind take over. While there is certainly a place for descriptive engagements they can have very different effects on a reader. For example, take the following:


"He delivered one solid punch after the next, driving them into Brian's stomach."


It's short, direct and simple. In most cases this can work. What about this though:


"He rained blows down onto Brian, burying his fists into his guts."


One is more directly descriptive, but the other is punchier (no pun intended) and gets its point across much quicker. Which ones you feel work best will be down to you, but you should always keep in mind how it will be read when the story is given to someone else.

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