Many writers wonder how to write a set piece. When they ask me, I often think of an old Eddie Izzard routine in which the comedian riffs on the difference between car chases in films and in books. She imagines a disinterested reader struggling through some turgid prose: “He looked up in the mirror. Behind him, the man was driving. They drove faster, faster, driving fast, and then there was a terrible crash.”
As someone who enjoys writing action, the routine has always stuck with me, because intuitively it makes sense. Surely a set piece – by which I mean a scene built around complex and dynamic action, which must be made logistically and visually clear to the reader – just works better on screen? You can see the mayhem unfolding in front of you, hear the crash of metal, the boom of explosions. Filmmakers have so many tools that they can use to immerse us in the action – so how can describing action step-by-step through prose capture that thrilling energy?
Luckily, prose writers have plenty of tools of our own. It’s just a matter of how we use them. So, here are some tips on how to write a set piece.
Keep It Dynamic
To start with, what we don’t do is merely describe the action step-by-step. Writing ‘John punched Bob. Then Bob punched John. John fell over. Then he got back up and kicked Bob’ will not result in a compelling set piece – though that perfunctory approach wouldn’t work cinematically either. An action scene filmed from a single flat angle, with no camera movement, no dynamic editing choices to break up the pacing or emphasise particular moments, and no sense of narrative progression, will be just as boring to watch as ‘John punched Bob. Then Bob punched John’ would be to read.
It’s useful, when thinking about how to write a set piece – whether it’s a street brawl, a boat chase, or a huge confrontation between two armies of space wizards – as a mini-story in and of itself. That doesn’t mean that it stands completely apart – the scene must still extend naturally from the story around it, it must have a wider impact, and there should be consistent emotional and narrative stakes.
Give It Structure
A set piece should have a structure: its own beginning, middle and end. And there are many tools that we can use to communicate this. Descriptive writing is one – vivid, tactile prose that conjures up exciting images and appeals to our senses, showing us how it feels to be struck by a magical blast, what the air smells like when a car explodes, the thundering of monstrous feet, the taste of blood in the mouth.
But even if the descriptive prose is full of these visceral, colourful details, it still needs rhythm. If the action occurs across a single long, dense paragraph, with no pauses, it just becomes bludgeoning. We lose our place in the story.
So a sudden line break, zooming in one particular action, thought or facial expression, can have an outsized impact.
It allows the reader to catch their breath…
But it also gives the scene some shape.
Similarly, varying sentence length can be as effective on the page as judicious cutaways can be on screen. Perhaps John and Bob spend one long sentence dancing around each other, building tension, raising our anticipation. Then boom. A few shorter, staccato sentences as they trade blows, with appropriately blunt word choices, so the prose itself feels as vicious as the moves they’re making.
Then a pause for a new line, perhaps focusing on some important physical details – a nasty wound, a beat of sweat, a furious eye. Perhaps some dialogue, or internal monologue.
And on it goes.
The basic nuts and bolts of the scene are functionally the same as our theoretical ‘John punched Bob. Then Bob punched John’. But through word choice, sentence and paragraph length, mindfully placed line breaks and so on, the scene comes to life. It becomes its own story, tangible, with immediate physical stakes and wider emotional ones.
The Importance of Clarity
An important word to bear in mind when thinking about how to write a set piece, is clarity. While there will be honourable exceptions – action written with such skill and poetry that it becomes almost abstract, felt rather than intellectually understood – in general, aiming for clarity is far more likely to result in an effective scene.
Clarity of motivation – why are the characters here, why are they chasing or fighting or escaping, what do they hope to achieve?
Clarity of geography – where is the action taking place, where does it go, where is everybody in relation to one another?
Clarity of movement – who is doing what and to whom, what are the effects, how do these different actions alter the course of the scene, how does it evolve as a result?
Limitless Possibility
It’s also worth remembering one handicap that filmmakers have that prose writers don’t – budget. If they can’t afford that stampede of robot dinosaurs, then the film has no robot dinosaurs. If they don’t have the time or equipment to pull off those elegant camera moves, the scene won’t look as vibrant.
In prose, there is no budget. No producer looking over your shoulder. If your story demands a stampede of robot dinosaurs – if a stampede of robot dinosaurs makes narrative and logical sense – then you can have them.
And you don’t need a special camera rig or an army of VFX artists to make them look awe-inspiring.
You just need the right words.
Stefan Mohamed is a TLC Editor and award-winning author, who provides Manuscript Assessment and Mentoring services for TLC. If you’d like to request Stefan as your Editor, please get in touch.
