Fixing Scenes That Don't Matter

Simple ways to edit your scenes so they impact what comes next

Quick reminder: Only two weeks remain in the Blazing Blade of Frankenstein Volume 1 Kickstarter campaign. I didn’t write it, but I edited a couple of the issues found in this glorious collection. (I’m particularly fond of the hardcover, but damn if that trade cover doesn’t look incredible.) Clay Adams, Kyle Roberts, and Mick Beyers are putting together a fantastic sword-and-sorcery series. Check it out.

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Last week, I discussed the importance of making sure every scene matters to your protagonist.

After posting, I got this question: Does it have to be the next scene, or can the impact come later?

Here’s how I look at it:

You can delay the impact of a scene, but you can’t delay the evidence that something changed.

If the result of Scene 3 doesn’t show up until Scene 8, that’s totally cool. But if Scene 4 in no way references Scene 3? That’s not so cool.

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Okay, but how the hell do you ensure a scene matters?

To answer that, let’s look at it through the lens of someone who’s already written a draft, shall we?

Let’s say you’ve written a script about a group of mercenaries out to slay a dragon. That gives us the central dramatic question: Will our heroes slay the dragon and save the kingdom?

Somewhere in Act 2, the heroes stop for a bite to eat at an inn. They go in, have some ale, and get into a brawl. The next day, they hop on their horses and head toward Mount Dragonio.

The bar fight is a great scene, filled with fists, humor, and a hint of sorcery. But something’s missing…

Then it hits you: Deleting it wouldn’t change the rest of the story. It would have zero impact! That’s a bad sign.

But damn it, you really like this scene! You decide to improve it…somehow.

So what do you do?

First, ask yourself those three questions I mentioned last week:

1. What does the protagonist (or in this case, the heroes) want right now?

2. What happens if they fail?

3. What happens if they succeed?

The way it’s written now, the answer to all three is “nothing.”

As part of your revisions, you give them a reason to go to the inn: to secure a key, steal a magic amulet, or meet an informant. Whatever it is, it has to tie into helping them destroy the dragon.

But that’s only one piece of the puzzle. The scene needs to impact the rest of the story in some way.

You could give one of the heroes a black eye. Maybe someone lost their favorite sword. Comics are visual, but c’mon, that’s not the impact you’re looking for, is it?

Let’s look at a few ways to make sure each scene ripples into the next…

1. The cost follows them.

The visual black eye or lost sword works on one level, but it should be more than “someone got hurt.” You need to make it inconvenient in some way: they can’t blend in, they’re slower when speed matters, or they’re outmatched.

In your original draft, an upcoming scene takes place at a convent. Now you give them black eyes, swollen lips, maybe a broken arm. And hell, they still smell like alcohol, too.

Suddenly, blending in with the nuns doesn’t seem so easy. The outcome of your next scene at the convent can stay the same as originally written, but now you revise it to introduce a layer of conflict, making it much tougher for them to succeed.

2. The plan changes.

If a scene matters, the protagonist can’t keep doing the same thing. So the next scene starts with a new plan, revised goal, or desperate pivot.

Because of the brawl, our heroes never secured the Emerald of Esmerelda the Eternal, which means they no longer have the means to enter the convent. Now what do they do?

3. Their behavior changes.

Success and failure at the inn might alter how they act later: They hesitate when they used to charge in, they bicker all the time, or they take bigger risks than before.

Maybe the bruiser of the group really got her butt kicked during the brawl. Originally, she was supposed to take out a trio of orcs on the way to the convent. But now, after the fight at the inn, she’s lost her mojo. She’s timid. Maybe even a little scared.

You can either rewrite the orc scene so she’s struggling with self-esteem (making victory more challenging), or you can make Lil’ Twang (the bard) earn his keep by dispatching the orcs.

4. Relationships shift.

Scenes not only impact the plot, but relationships, too: trust is broken, respect is earned.

As you’re reworking the inn scene, you remember the wedding from the first issue. Lil’ Twang asks several ladies to dance, but they all turn him down. So you write jokes throughout the story with his cohorts teasing him about it.

Now, you give them a reason to stop at the inn: Lil’ Twang has a crush on a waitress there. And you rewrite it so the fight breaks out because he was flirting with the innkeeper’s daughter.

Turns out, Lil’ Twang lied. The Emerald of Esmerelda the Eternal wasn’t at the inn. It never was. Now, no one believes the bard anymore. Even when he’s telling the truth, everyone assumes he’s lying, which creates tension in the group.

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Okay, back to the question I received. How might these things impact the story later?

Maybe the waitress fell in love with the bruiser (sorry, Lil’ Twang), and she runs away to join the team at the convent (and now you have to work her into the remaining scenes).

Or maybe you shift the epic finale to take place near the inn. Now, because of the brawl, the townsfolk turn their back on our heroes instead of helping.

The evidence of the bar fight is immediate, but the ultimate payoff comes later.

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There are an infinite number of ways for the outcome of one scene to ripple into the next. (Hell, here’s another: The stakes get clearer or more personal. The heroes learn that the townspeople are dying because of the dragon, and while the heroes were originally doing it for the money, now they want to help for intrinsic satisfaction.)

That’s how you work your way through your story:

1. Inspect every scene.

2. Ask those same three key questions.

3. Ensure the outcome impacts the next scene.

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