Scene: Where Change Happens
Perhaps
one of the most important elements in any writing is scene, whether it’s for
memoir,
screenplay,
novel, or most especially for short story. A scene is a compact unit in the
development
of a story, novel, or play, a unique representation that propels the story or
plot
ahead,
and definitely something other than the mere telling of a story through
exposition—it shows
us the story, like fast movie cuts and clips.
A
scene is a complete, independent little episode, a tableau, an incident that
contains characters
with
action and dialogue. To build a scene we need to see characters interacting,
incorporating
movement
and speech, but also using the five senses: taste, touch, smell, see, hear,
along with
other
elements such as feelings and emotions, perhaps what we know to be the sixth
sense of a
character,
and even the inclusion of a symbol or token to evoke memory.
As
an example, in describing Dennis Lehane’s abduction scene in Mystic River, what I remember first is
the smell of the apple core left in the abductors’ car. Here is something so
sweet and delectable—the apple, and yet it is juxtaposed with the horrific—an
abomination—the abduction of the boy Dave by two sociopaths with vile
intentions. By introducing the apple, Lehane has opened many
arguments—including the loss of innocence and the first sin—the fall of Adam
and Eve from the Garden of Paradise.
Scenes
are components, little montages, not just in stories, novels, creative non-fiction,
memoir,
screenplays,
theater plays—even in poetry. Scenes achieve an important task, such as
introducing
a character, an idea, a decision, turmoil between lovers, tension, or they help
build
conflict.
There is no complete story or novel without inclusion of the obligatory scenes
that make
the
whole work. But the single factor that enlivens your scene and gives you the
foundation to
construct
your work is change.
I
just finished re-reading Barbara Wood’s excellent book Night Trains. For me, it was as spine-tingling as the first
time. Here below is how this author enthralls
us by giving her readers a bone-chilling, thrilling scene. My humble
description of it doesn’t even come close to doing it justice, but bear with me
for the sake of explanation of what a scene can accomplish in a novel.
Scene:
WWII. Wartime Poland is occupied by the Nazi’s. Winter. A cold night. Visualize a spartan and austere
doctor’s office in a hospital built in the 1930s. Three people are gathered and waiting. One of them is acting very edgy. They are keeping a huge secret that could
have them all killed. A fourth person is
expected. This man is also involved in
the surreptitious undertaking—a hoax that could save the town Sofia, or if
revealed have the entire populace annihilated. But it is this fourth person who
is the unknown factor, the dangerous element.
What if he divulges the hidden plan? As he enters the office, a doctor
immediately moves to stand behind the door and bolt it. Tension is in the air. There
appears to be a normal washstand and basin in the office, but something is
wrong and out of place. It is the
presence of a straight razor, “shiny and clean, and it was wide open” that the key
person now notices and as he begins to tremble.
Wow!
I was on the proverbial edge of my seat when I read that scene. An author should give the reader the picture
of what’s taking place, of what’s going on so that the reader is privy to the
action, but also has the pleasure of bringing to the scene with all its
existing components, the addition of the reader’s imagination to complete it.
After inspecting the scene in Night
Trains that I described above, the reader knows that the prevailing
situation is going to be radically altered.
What
do we need to make a scene work? What is the heart and center, the guts and
energy of any
scene?
What do they require to be complete? It’s the author’s job to give us:
description of place,
time
of day, weather, a character’s hair color and clothing in exposition, but in
scene we get what
the
characters are doing and saying, through their senses. And the biggie for all characters are their
wants, needs, motivations through cause and effect—all of these things get
developed in scene, which is never static. Something must happen, transpire,
alter—change.