The verdict is in: one of the most important scenes in your story has fallen flat, and you’ve been told to either deepen it or cut it.
As an editor, I’ve attached that note to a number of scenes one might expect to be inherently dramatic—among them, funerals, weddings, childbirths, battles, and first sexual encounters. But even as expectation runs high—as a reader, I’m right where the author wants me to be—the author loses his path into story while unspooling generic action.
To deepen the scene you’ll need to dig for the specific, story-relevant drama lurking beneath your breezy treatment. These eight questions will point you in the right direction. I’ll use a funeral as my example, because, duh. Digging.
1. What might you be assuming? That people would be sad at a funeral is so widely assumed, in the manuscripts I see, that writers just drop their characters at the church door and open the waterworks—sometimes right on page one, when we readers are trying to orient ourselves to character and story. Is the cryer woebegone, or faking it? We have no way of knowing. What makes one character cry might make another scoff, or laugh. It’s up to you to build both character and context, because in fiction, nothing can be assumed.
2. Can you sink deeper into your character’s perspective? Perspective provides the memorable blade that will cut into your story and free its secrets. Set aside for a minute all those things you-as-author feel your reader must know, and think about what your point-of-view character is compelled to seek. Why did your character come to the funeral? List all the reasons. There will be more than you think. Which reason might you be side-stepping? The oddest, most insignificant reason might end up being the most revealing, and the most interesting to your story. Once you decide the thing your character wanted most from that funeral, create an obstacle that will make goal attainment nearly impossible—then show us what he’s made of. Develop your character’s unique perspective through backstory motivation, inciting incident, dark moment, climactic fight—these structures comprise the core of the drama in a scene as well as in the overall story.
3. Why are you blocked about revising this scene? Consider asking the spirit of someone you know who has died. (I’m not suggesting a séance, but have at it if you want—and report back!). This is simply a way to leap beyond the limits of your perspective and adopt the sensibility of someone who no longer fears his mortality. When I ask such questions of fictional characters, I like taking down their answers longhand, in in first-person voice, as if their message is flowing right through me and into a journal. The revelation may be eye-opening—and ultimately, freeing.
4. What might be seen better from afar? Try writing “about” the scene from a greater distance. Not in the POV of the character caught in the clutches of inner turmoil, but a person who’d been driving through the cemetery, perhaps, and caught sight of the funeral. What begged this watcher’s interest, to the point that he was compelled to pull over to sate his curiosity? He now stands at the top of the hill, caught up in the drama unfolding below. What can he see from this vantage point? What can’t he see? This could help you add more dimension to the scene.
5. Does every inclusion push your story forward? For each sentence already on the page, ask:
- Can the scene be understood without it?
- Does it raise a question that draws you further into the scene?
- Does it create emotional context?
- Does it stir up inner conflict?
- Is the DNA of the entire story held in the scene, with intention that connects backstory motivation, inciting incident, and climactic fight? This will look different depending on where the scene is placed—foreshadowing, if early on, or delivering on subtext, if later—but if you thought the scene was important, there’s no reason that the full emotional thrust of the story cannot be in evidence.
- Have you attached stakes to the scene? Your character would not have put himself through the discomfort of a funeral if there weren’t dire stakes attached to his attendance. Because this is fiction, this funeral will not provide closure nor will it be considered a blessed opportunity—not anytime soon, anyway. Why? Bring those aspects forward.
6. Have you drifted from the premise of the novel? A scene goal for your POV character, complicated by external and internal forces, is a great place to start, but it may not be enough to engage the reader if the scene feels irrelevant to the story you’d been telling. The inherent-yet-generic drama of a funeral (or a wedding or a birth or a sex scene) should not be counted upon to sub in for more legitimate explorations of theme. Use the funeral to create specific pressures that force your protagonist deeper into his redemption story, his change in societal status, or whatever inner arc you’ve devised for him.
7. Is it possible that you slipped past an important emotional turning point in writing this scene? This moment of change might contain a knot of emotion that you could pick at some more. Perhaps your character arrives at the funeral as an adult kid who, through no fault or choice of his own, was abandoned by the now-deceased father he never knew. But he leaves the funeral as a man who’s discovered that his father had left behind a significant trail of bread crumbs that might allow his son to learn more about him—and your character chooses not to follow them. It won’t be enough to tell us how empowering it was to make that choice, and that for now, it was enough. We’ll want to feel that power course through his veins in full sensory detail, and fuel him as he walks away.
8. What was your most memorable moment from a funeral you attended, and what about it affected you so? Story beckons us to reclaim our inner three-year-old’s curiosity. Why? Why? But why? If you’re short on funeral experience, reread funeral scenes from some of your favorite works (they aren’t hard to find!) and analyze the variety of premise-specific ways the author used that scene to further the story.
Keep in mind that in the end, the power is yours. Digging deeper can be super rewarding, but if you think the advice was off-base, this agent might not be right for you (that exact scenario was the start of New York Times best-selling author Jennifer Weiner’s career). But if your subconscious is telling you that she may indeed be right, run your scene past the above questions to see if there’s something you might be missing.
So what will you do: cut, or deepen? I always reach for deepen first, trusting my subconscious for having put the scene there in the first place. But if in the end you cannot bend the scene to your will, here’s the ultimate quick fix:
“The day after the funeral, Michael walked through a much quieter house…”
Have you ever struggled with maintaining dramatic integrity through one of the “high expectation” scenes listed in this post? Let’s share what works. Have you ever received an editorial note that said to “deepen” a scene? How did you go about it?
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About Kathryn Craft
Kathryn Craft (she/her) is the author of two novels from Sourcebooks, The Art of Falling and The Far End of Happy. A freelance developmental editor at Writing-Partner.com since 2006, Kathryn also teaches in Drexel University’s MFA program and runs a year-long, small-group mentorship program, Your Novel Year. Learn more on Kathryn's website.
Great tips. Saving this for the dev edit letter I’m expecting by Saturday. :-)
Haha great timing! Glad you stopped by, Jamie!
Wonderful actionable advice, as always! I’ve found that there are scenes I know need revising, yet there’s a huge weird resistance. Why? I appreciate that you raised the question of whether it might be something in or about me that’s producing the block. And of course there’s also the “tyranny of what’s already on the page.” One of the best strategies for that, when I’m able to do it, is to rewrite the entire scene in a brand-new document instead of fiddling with what’s already there. But how I resist that! Thanks for another great post!
Oh my Barbara I am totally with you: knowing I should rewrite in a new document, and resisting that knowing. That’s one reason why switching to longhand works for me—it forces me to feel the scene, the character, and her concerns in a new way. When a character’s thoughts flow through my brain and my muscles and my pen, it is easier to become him or her for the time needed to go deep.
I’ve definitely felt the “huge weird resistance” at times. And find that often I’ve developed an emotional attachment to a scene. Working through it in a new document usually allows me to see past whatever it is I’m holding onto.
This really got my creative juices flowing. Planning to do some longhand journaling in character later today. Thanks for the inspiration, Kathryn!
Awesome Nicole, nothing makes me happier! I was about to write “enjoy today’s writing,” but I already know you will. ;) Glad you stopped in!
Just last night I was writing the scene where my protagonist finds the dead body of one of her clients. I started with the regular “finding body” types of things, and then realized it was rather wooden, so I am very happy the Writing Gods have deigned to intervene with your post! What I found helped last night was to tap into a similar situation I’d experienced and remember the emotions I experienced as a starting point, and then thinking about how the protagonist would react and why. As there is still much to be written, I appreciate your suggestions. One and four particularly intrigued me and I look forward to using them tonight. Thanks!
Thank you for reminding me that even real humans are part of a bigger story, Lara—easy to forget at a time when your main drama unfolds within the same four walls, day in and day out!
Number 4 is interesting, right? Reminds us to spend some time in external conflict, and how it can amplify what’s going on inside our characters.
Hi, Kathryn. These are great questions for a writer to ask when a scene falls flat. I have always liked the tried and true Goal/Motivation/Conflict method when drafting a scene. I start by asking myself: what is the goal of the scene? What are the motivations of the characters? Where is the conflict? How can I exploit it? Where will the scene end up? Does the conflict get resolved or does it deepen? Often, the writer makes assumptions that are not apparent to the reader and that can lead to missed opportunities in a scene. Thanks for sharing your insights in this post. I hope you are doing well! Be safe.
Such a great reminder, Chris: goal, motivation and conflict should be the basis for every scene, so that’s always a good place to begin the search for missed opportunities.
As for stying safe IRL, so far so good!
Kathryn, an excellent checklist. I try to make sure my scenes are doing double and triple duty (part of this comes from being steeped in short stories) and it’s not always easy to get rid of the weak ones.
But one of the best advices I got was from Author Carolyn Coman, who taught storyboarding. This appeals to me very much because I use index cards. She draws boxes and draws the major action, then she writes what is happening. Finally, she writes what the main character feels. Is it joy, fear, sadness? I think storyboarding is an excellent tool for keeping track of both the action and the emotional journey of the main character.
A second benefit of storyboarding is seeing which scenes can be discarded or combined into another to make the writing tighter.
I’m all for double and triple duty too, Vijaya! After the first draft, I’ll often discover that I’ve strung out action that can be winched together into one, great, hopping scene that accomplishes much.
I’ll have to check out more about storyboarding, although the thought that anything must be drawn made me break into a cold sweat.
Stick figures is what I draw :) Have no fear.
Kathryn:
Even as I was reading your post, I went to my current WIP and found several scenes where I’d missed opportunities to reveal characters or add needed backstory, or had strayed from the focus of the story. Thanks for the most timely advice!
Christine this made me so happy! Thanks for letting me know. Enjoy the rewriting!
Yes, this was a terrific article, and I have starred it in my saved articles on Writing Craft. I read the comments with interest, too. It adds depth and texture to the structural elements of writing I recently learned. Whether an action scene, or the reaction to an event, or a point of development for the character, applying these questions will add power to the scene. They will also deepen the whole-of-story theme, scene by scene. If the scene can’t be tweaked so it does all this, Michael might just have to walk through that quiet house1
I love it when techniques from a variety of sources knit together within us to become our own sense of craft. It’s the great handing down, of which I have been a grateful beneficiary. Glad to be a small link in that chain for you, Julia!
What a brilliant article! I’m wrestling with my outline, had to change some of the major things, so this will really help me decided what scenes to keep or add, and how to deepen them when I go back to actual words on the page
Yay! So glad it reached you at just the right time, Cassandra. Enjoy your revision!
This is excellent advice! Thank you!