 Action/Adventure: July 27, 2005 Issue [#520] |
  Action/Adventure
This week: Edited by: W.D.Wilcox  
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Without transition, the screaming of the horses filled the air. Blood and shredded flesh articulated the dust. The first rows of the Masters went down like mowed wheat, scythed from their mounts by the vicious strength of the enemy.
--“The Runes of the Earth” by Stephen R. Donaldson
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Writing action sequences can be tricky. The use of short, choppy sentences is usually the best way to achieve this, but don’t fall into a “he did this, and then the other guy did that” kind of exchange. That can make a fast-paced scene stale and boring. You want to mix it up with good descriptions and internal dialogue using all the senses just like the rest of your story. The key to remember in writing a good action sequence is to make sure that each word advances your scene.
Here’s an example.
“Defend yourself, heartless one, lest I destroy you!”
I answered with a flurry of blows like a sudden squall: fists and feet so swift that it was impossible to follow them. Strikes and gasps punctuated the air in staccato, at once sodden and sharp, flesh and bone. Then, abruptly, I staggered backward; nearly fell to my knees.
My face bled from cuts and pulped skin on my cheeks and forehead. I could feel pain grinding in my chest like splinters of bone twisting against each other.
Swift as lightning, the bad guy attacked again.
As though I had not been bloodied, and felt no hurt, I sprang to meet the assault. I struck and struck, a whirlwind of blows and blocks; spinning; leaping; allowing the bad guy to hit me so that I could hit back. Once I rocked the bad guy’s head: several times, I drove my fists and feet into his body.
Yet the punishment I received in return was worse. I saw my blood splash the ground; felt more of my ribs give way. Then a lashing elbow snapped one of my clavicles.
I was off-balance and slow, battered almost senseless. The bad guy dove at me with a blow to the pelvis that wrenched my leg from its socket.
I fell on my face, fingers clawing at the dirt, unable to rise.
The bad guy stood over me. With one hand, he knotted a grip in my hair, pulled my head back. With the other, he punched downward.
My head bounced once; settled to the ground like a sigh. I did not move again.
Whoa! I think I need a doctor after that...lol.
Anyway, I hope you get what I’m trying to say here. An action sequence does exactly what it implies: it moves the scene through a series of actions. When writing action, make your reader feel as though they have just been through the fight of their lives--leave them exhausted, panting for breath, yet satisfied.
Until next time,
billwilcox
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I tried my best to find some great stories with fast-paced action sequences that everyone would enjoy.
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[Excerpt] Turning around to see that Clancy hadn't got to the truck, he ran out into the clearing toward Singer. Fumbling in his pocket for his pa's Old Timer, Tommy Lee cut Singer's leg loose and pulled the rag off the dog's muzzle. Clancy watched, almost stupefied, before howling, “Boy, you'n at dawg a'yers is dead, soon as I git my gun!”
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[Excerpt] The cadaverous creature wrenched his knife out of the door. Blood fountained from the wounded wood. The creature was a bit off balance after the last tug, but Sandra couldn't take advantage of the situation. Then the door flew open, cracking the creature in the forehead and driving it back.
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[Excerpt] Fighting to catch his breath, he directed the spray towards his friend. The flames were extinguished within seconds. "OK, buddy, I'm here," he exclaimed, as he rushed to where Harold lay on the ground. "Can you hear me? Harold? God, answer me buddy," his voice panicked, as he grabbed at the water-drenched branches, heaving them aside.
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[Excerpt] Darkness fell. No movement. None, but the racing blood in his arteries and veins, the thudding of his heart. His rasping breaths had not stopped, but he couldn’t get enough air. He was drowning. Half-conscious, but not totally, he fought to hold on to a thread guiding him out of his bodily exhaustion. If this was death, he wasn’t having any part of it. He was still running, but this time without legs and arms.
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[Excerpt] There was a sickening crack of dry wood, followed by the sound of Geordie
yelling as he flailed his arms and legs, desperately trying to catch hold of another branch
on his way down. He smacked his arm on a gnarled, leafy limb, scraping away layers of
skin and drawing beadlets of crimson through the dirty scratches. He landed in a heap on
the hard ground, groaning softly as he rolled to one side and grasped his mangled arm.
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[Excerpt] Anger crackled in his voice. I refused to give up. Somehow dodging the slash from the knife, I charged up close to his body to prevent him slashing at me again. I felt a give in his stance and pressed further. The surprise of my attack relaxed his grip and I wrenched the knife loose and flung it into the dark woods. He was bowled over as I fought for freedom and struggled to get my feet under me in the freezing snow. His hand grasped my ankle and I tasted blood as my face slapped the hard, cold ground.
[Excerpt] Troy hit the auto-weapons display and started forward at a run toward the nearest robot. His low-grade plasma lasers danced crazily across his target’s pod shields. Troy kept blasting and literally ran over the top of his opponent and then continued moving on toward the next mechanical spider.
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robi4711 says thank you:
I really can't tell you how much this detailed info is going to help me in the novel I'm writing now. I really want to write action/adventure and this is going to help me no end. Thanks.
Always glad to help, my friend 
shadowdawn comments:
Perfect timing on this newsletter! I'm working on a fantasy book and my hero has a group too. This helped me consider their various roles. Thanks!
--ShadowDawn
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