It’s Not the Cougar
Donald Maass on Jul 07 2010 | Filed under: CRAFT
Last month I looked at how tension emerges on the page when apparently nothing is happening. The inverse of that is when high action hits with bullets whining, cars careening and explosions mushrooming.
You’d think that high action would be the most riveting stuff in any novel, but strangely it often is easy to skim. C’mon, be honest. You’ve skimmed some action, haven’t you?
A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of spending a day with Chi-Libris, a group of published authors of Christian fiction. Late in the day we tackled micro-tension. A participant offered a paragraph from a WIP in which a cougar carried a toddler across a stream (in its mouth, in case you were wondering), pursued by the story’s protagonist.
The passage was well written, visually clear—and not particularly scary. When I asked, “What do you think will happen next?” hardly anyone was stirred to speculate. I then asked, “How can we add tension?”
As I expected, most suggestions focused on making the cougar more menacing, raising the stakes (the toddler is a Senator’s child!), changing the protagonist’s actions, etc. No improvement. The outcome still didn’t matter to most.
Then came a suggestion that held the key to increasing tension: heighten the emotions of the point-of-view character. Even better, create conflicting emotions. Bingo. Suddenly the moment sprang to life. Both the interest level and uncertainty of the outcome spiraled up…
…except for a group of a male authors, who were mostly clustered in a back row. “But what if the cougar reared up on its hind legs?” “Cougars have vicious fangs, what if its lips curled back?” The men didn’t want to let go of the idea that tension comes from guns, or in this case claws.
Finally, I improvised a version of the passage that went something like this:
The cougar splashed across the stream, the toddler limp in its jaws. Jim splashed after it, snapping off a branch. No way was he backing down. Forget it. It was man against nature. And this time man was going to win.
Simple as that was, interest increased. Someone noticed that the hero’s determination was undercut by the words this time. Another participant wondered, “What happened last time?” Exactly. It’s the contrast between bravado and fear (both implied) that creates tension and makes the outcome uncertain…
…except for the guys in the back row. “But seriously, what if the cougar…” I shook my head in despair. “It’s not the cougar,” I said, “it’s the emotions.”
Guys. Ah-yee. What are you going to do?
Donald Maass is president of the Donald Maass Literary Agency in New York. His agency sells more than 150 novels every year to major publishers in the U.S. and overseas. He’s also the author of several craft books for writers, including the highly acclaimed Writing the Breakout Novel and The Fire in Fiction.
Photo courtesy Flickr’s Harlequeen





















My imagination is channeling the Governator. I keep hearing Ah-nold say, “It’s not the COU-GAH.” (loosely paraphrased from KINDERGARTEN COP)
Thanks for the reminder, Don, that the impact doesn’t come from the incident itself but from what the action means to us.
Like?
0
Thank you Mr. Maass. This post came at the right time as I’m struggling with a particular action scene. I couldn’t pinpoint the problem, but now I think it may be that the external stakes are too high, and the internal (emotional) ones are too low.
Like?
0
My WIP is all about the emotional stakes. But reading your post reminded me of the importance of CONTRAST. I think what I’m doing might be a tad too one dimensional.
Thanks for another great post!
Like?
0
Lol. Great example, once again, to explain your point.
Also, am I the only one who did not think of the ANIMAL cougar when first reading this title??
Like?
0
This is a great point. I’ve noticed that in some books (and films, plays, etc.) a relatively minor incident can be packed with drama, and a relatively major incident can seem unimportant, based on how the characters react to it.
It’s sort of a matter of “zooming in” on a character’s emotions. From a perspective that is intimately inside someone’s mind, a seemingly little thing can be brimming with meaning. And from a disconnected POV like a satellite view of the planet, a nuke explosion can seem almost insignificant.
Like?
0
So true. Yet in fact so hard to achieve — and still not quite there in many books out on the shelves.
And speaking of “skimming” (yes, we’ve all skimmed some action — and other parts, too!) I had an interesting conversation about that very topic last night. Everybody fessed up to skimming so much more than we’d collectively suspected. Yet everybody seems to skim different parts. Intriguing. What does this mean for writers?
Like?
0
Conflicting emotions plus physical danger. Bingo.
Excellent post, as usual. Thanks. :)
Like?
0
The hardest part for me is writing the emotion . . . “what happens next” gets the story going, but what happens inside a character makes or breaks the action. Thanks for the reminder!
Like?
0
Maybe the cougar could be bionic. Bet that would make the scene engrossing. ;)
If nothing else, since supposedly most readers of fiction are female, and since we *generally* look at the world in the context of relationships (to self, other, world), this post makes sense to me. Focus on the “world” part too much, and risk losing the reader.
Like?
0
This is such an absolutely great post, and so very true. Airplane crashes, sex, sword fights . . . all can be truly boring without emotion behind them. Thanks for a wonderful reminder!
Like?
0
Thanks for the great tip. When action is just “more of the same,” I do find myself skimming. It’s worth remembering it’s what the character’s going through internally that drives great fiction.
Can you imagine a t-shirt with the words: “It’s not the cougar, it’s the emotions” on it. Then again, people may get the wrong idea without the context :-)
Like?
0
Hilarious. I went to the bathroom during one of the hand-to-hand, fight-to-the-death scenes in the last Bourne movie. When I came back, they were still fighting. Yawn. It was only halfway through the movie, so who was going to win? Duh. Also, it was nearly identical to a strangle-each-other-to-death scene that had occured between two government automatons in the previous Bourne movie. Several other women were in the bathroom with me, as it happened, rolling our eyes. When I came back, I said, I didn’t miss anything, I see. And everyone around me, guys included, laughed.
Some novels are page-turners and the only action is the emotion. Like the Pulitzer winner Olive Kitteredge.
Like?
0
So clear, so simple, yet so impossibly hard to do in a vacuum. Thank you, Donald, for saddling up to my writing desk with your step-by-step example. All those unnecessary words… vanquished.
Like?
0
I saw the blog title and thought I was going to read about the OTHER cougar. You know, the 40 year old woman cougar. Then the passage would read something like this: The cougar splashed her way across the pool with the handsome cabana boy in her sights. The cabana boy, suddenly aware he was going to be taken down, struggled to swim away. She reached for him with her long tanned arm dangling with gold bracelets. No way was he backing down. Forget it. It was boy against cougar. And this time cabana boy was going to win.
Like?
0
I get this, and I’m a guy. I’m not sure that I achieve this when I write, but I’ve always thought action has to create an emotional response rather than a visual one. Engage the reader’s senses and character. Boys, get in touch with the woman inside.
Like?
0
That’s hilarious. Makes me think of my own misguided response when you asked that question. I wanted to add a physical fight to add tension.
I think I “get” it now.
Like?
0
Having been present for this discussion, I know how hard Don worked to get his point across. Emotions do outweigh the physical–and they usually get us in the most trouble too!
Like?
0
Loved reading this post. It was even more entertaining in person. Thanks for all the insight at that retreat, Don. I’m using much of what I wrote during that time for my WIP’s opening, and I think it’s my strongest yet.
Like?
0
That was a great discussion! I appreciated your teaching at the CL retreat, and I have noticed this type of micro-tension more in what I have been reading since then. Thanks for sharing more on this topic. Hope we can have you back for another session in the future.
Like?
0
Okay, but what if the cougar is thinking, “This time, I’m going to feed my cubs, even if I have to stoop to stealing one of theirs.” LOL Sorry, I like cougars.
Loved the reminder! And the contrast of the guys who didn’t get it really helped bring the point home. Thanks, Don! You da bomb!
Like?
0
one little whimper from the child would have clenched the stomach!
Like?
0
Okay, Don,
I was one of the male authors near the back. I was truly surprised when no one seemed concerned about the child.
OTOH, your twist did get my blood boiling and brought me back to the Zane Grey and Lack London books I read as a kid!
Eric
Like?
0
Don, I’ve been laughing about the cougar episode ever since the retreat. It was a great session and a wonderful way to show how to build tension in a scene. Thanks so much for all you shared with us!!
Like?
0
I love the picture.
Great blog entry, too, but I’ve come to expect that here.
Write on.
Like?
0
Hi Mr. Maass,
Thanks for the post! The microtension is so unnerving – it turns the whole scene without hitting you over the head, sneaks in, deepens.
Can you push it too far though? Will it ever become exhausting for the reader? You said most writer’s don’t take it far enough, and I agree.
Like?
0
This blog was great timing for me. And you’re so right. The intensity of the scene is ramped up 10 times more by the emotions. Thanks!
Sharla
Like?
0
[...] a little precursor to a “Pointers from the Pros” post I will be running soon, here’s The Donald (Donald Maass), over at Writer Unboxed, talking about creating [...]
Like?
0