Writing Powerful Moments

Sitting here in front of the fire (no, I’m not in Florida!) makes me think of fire-like concepts. Like intensity, burning fiercely. Emotional intensity that leaves you physically limp. Intense suspense, so gripping you can’t put the book down. Hilarity that has you holding your sides while tears roll down your cheeks. These are the virtuous extremes that make a book unforgettable, unputdownable. They melt us onto them like a hot pan set down on a plastic lid.

Now, it must be said that not every book has to be intense. There are gentle novels, too, and they can be delightful. I’m a big fan of Barbara Pym, who is understated, pastel, and ever-so-British. But it’s a lot harder to make such delicate tales memorable. Take The Wind in the Willows, a beautiful highlight of my childhood. It goes along rather placidly—but then, there’s that heart-stopping apparition of Pan in the woods that is almost an ecstasy for the reader, as for the characters. That’s the scene that nails the book to the soul.

How do such moments happen? Let’s consider a few ways and means.

Make time stand still

Time is stretchy. Really important moments seem to go into slo-mo, and we experience with force and a kind of preternatural clarity every detail. The same thing should happen in novels. Unimportant events can be whizzed through with a brief summary, but critical conflicts and encounters need to be delved for every powerful impression. A battle toward which the whole story has been moving. The death of a major character or someone dear to them. Any other big turning point in the story—one that will change the protagonist forever. Take your timeand lock on. Drill down. Mine for every perception, every ounce of emotion. Make the image stick in the reader’s brain forever.

Pile on the details

This idea goes along with the previous one. Burn those sensory perceptions into the reader’s brain by making them rich, even if you haven’t been particularly descriptive up to that point. It’s not a change of style—our senses really do go on high alert at such moments. That’s why traumas frequently cause flash-backs triggered by subtle perceptions. And if your scene happens to be a funny one, remember it’s the details that set up the mental picture that will crack your readers up and help them visualize the incongruity that makes not just funny but hilarious. Carl Hiassen is a master of this.

Shorten the sentences

We are told to write action scenes in short, punchy sentences so they don’t slow the reader down. Yet, ironically, they do slow her down—in a good way! They break into the accustomed flow of the prose like a series of hammer blows. They batter the consciousness with flashes of perception and feeling that may be a bit disconnected, until reflection after the fact brings them together. That’s the way such things work in real life, and this trick of wording makes the reader participate bodily in the effect of shock.

These are just a few things to take into account when you sit down to write a powerful scene. Don’t skimp on the intensity. Don’t let that moment pass blandly, like part of the background. Let it blaze!