Suspense

I awoke after last night's writing with some thoughts about this question of when to cut away from a scene. So let's say you get the action up and running. That's good. In fact, that's a feat in itself. Get the action happening on stage, get it happening to the right person, build some tension and then cut away.

But I realized, last night I'd cut away too soon. It's not enough to introduce the big dilemma if you don't play with it a bit. So this morning I went back in and added another scene so the reader could enjoy the suspense of the thing a bit more. I wanted the reader to feel like I do when I watch a good movie and I'm hanging onto the dog, and telling the person on the screen, "Don't do that. Don't turn the door knob. Don't go inside."

I'm not writing a thriller but I understand the importance of suspense, at least I'm starting to. It takes a long time to understand where to cut to a new scene in order to build suspense but also when to LINGER in order to create suspense. I'm starting to listen to my body more when I write, if that makes any sense. I'm starting to feel my way through the story.

I read a graphic novel recently that might work well here as an example of this idea of lingering a while in order to build suspense. The novel is Ethel & Ernest by Raymond Briggs. The story opens on a Monday in 1928. A woman is dusting and a man rides by the house on his bicycle. The woman shakes her dust rag out the window at the exact time that the cyclist rides by. He thinks she's waving at him and he smiles at her and tips his hat. Tuesday, it happens again. The shake of a rag, the big smile from the cyclist and an even bigger wave of the hat. Wednesday, you think it's going to happen again, and the reader anticipates that Ethel and Ernest might exchange a greeting. But no. The writer, wisely, introduces some suspense. Wednesday, Ethel is at the window but gets pulled away by the voice of her emloyer. It is raining and the cyclist rides by in the rain, but no Ethel. Thursday, no cyclist. Ethel stands at the window waiting for him until again she's pulled away. Friday, again no cyclist, but lots of rain. Saturday and the weather has improved. The cyclist rings the doorbell, presents Ethel with a bouquet and asks her to the movies.

It's such a simple example, but you can see what would have happened had Ethel and Ernest met on a Tuesday instead of a Saturday. The passage of time and the rain and the forlorn expressions on their faces made the pleasure of their meeting all that much better.

I'm going to try to keep Ethel and Ernest in my mind. Delay gratification. Delay, delay, delay.