Make A Scene (6 page)

You do want to be careful not to provide too many summaries—you'll know if you have done so because the action will start to disappear. If you're getting feedback as you write, too much summary will likely cause your reader to report getting twitchy and bored. Use summary endings for character development, to reveal something more about a character that the reader didn't know before.

Revelatory Dialogue

Revelations create drama and tension in your scenes. In chapter three we discussed how revelations can be used in your scene middles to drive your narrative forward, but they can also be used to end a scene on a note of surprise or intensity, especially in the form of dialogue. The end of a scene is a fantastic place for a sudden and surprising piece of information to come out of the mouth of a character. "I shot her!" the man who is presumed innocent might suddenly proclaim during his trial. Revelation zooms the reader's focus in on the character and builds suspense for the next scene. When the reader meets this man again, she will undoubtedly see the consequences of his actions.

The revelation can be quieter, too, more on an emotional level. "I don't really love you," the new bride might confess to her husband on their honeymoon, changing their fate for the worse on what is supposed to be the happiest night of their lives.

The Cliffhanger Ending

If you really want to be sure that your reader will not stop for breath and press forward, you're best off employing the cliffhanger ending. Cliffhang-ers can happen in a variety of ways and in almost any scene when you want to leave the reader on the edge, uncertain of the outcome: A character is left in grave peril; an action is cut short at the precipice of an outcome; or the tables are turned completely on your character's perception of reality. What all of those scenarios have in common is suspense. They leave the reader wondering every time.

Take this example from Richard Russo's novel
Empire Falls,
in which Christina "Tick" Robideaux, daughter of protagonist Miles, faces off with an angry, hurt classmate:

It occurs to Tick that Zack Minty's stupid game has prepared her for this moment. She faces John Voss as bravely as she can, knowing it will all be over soon. Her vision has now narrowed to the point where she can barely make him out, his face bloody, his eyes almost sad... Then he squeezes the trigger, and she hears what she is certain will be the last sound she will ever hear, and feels herself thrust backwards into blackness.

The cliffhanger draws the reader so deeply into the action that there is very little chance she will put down the book at that point, and when you have a dangerous cliffhanger as above, which puts a likable character like Tick in danger, the reader will be desperate to go on to find out what happens to her.

Cliffhangers have a tendency to pump adrenaline into the reader's heart, so you want to be careful not to end every scene on such a note. Cliffhang-ers can be an integral part of controlling suspense if they are not overused.

ZOOM-OUT ENDINGS

Zoom-out endings pull away from intimacy or immediacy. The reader often needs a bit of emotional relief from an intense scene, and pulling back provides him an opportunity to catch his breath or reflect on all that has just transpired.

Visual Descriptions

There are many reasons why a writer might choose to end a scene with a visual description. Visual passages in general ground the reader concretely in the present moment. A visual description simply shows what is; it isn't trying to be, or suggest, something else. In these instances, you will use more of the senses.

If there has been a lot of action in a scene—running, dancing, or fighting, say—drawing back to let the reader see something in a concrete visual way can be a very effective way to end the scene. If a fight has taken place during the scene, you might end the scene with a visual of the beaten protagonist passed out in the street, leaving the reader to wonder how badly injured he is. Or you might draw back to show the reader something peaceful or hopeful: a cow grazing quietly in the moonlight; a woman brewing tea in her kitchen; a child patting the head of a dog. The key here, of course, is that by using the senses, you leave a physical impression on the reader, an imprint that he will take into the next scene.

Visual endings don't need to give the reader anything to chew on beyond what is right there on the page; they are like palate cleansers between intense scenes, clearing away some of the feelings elicited in the scene to make way for a new one. One of the most masterful short stories ever written, "The Dead," by James Joyce, employs just such cleansing visuals between the end of one scene and the beginning of another:

The morning was still dark. A dull yellow light brooded over the houses and the river; and the sky seemed to be descending. It was slushy underfoot; and only streaks and patches of snow lay on the roofs, on the parapets of the quay and on the area railings.

The visual ending above provides a gentle transition between the last scene of the party, full of boisterous activity and motion and dialogue, and a quietly emotional, devastating final scene between Gabriel and his wife, in which he realizes that he does not know her as well as he thinks. That simple visual paves the way for a truly powerful next scene.

Philosophical Musings

Since writing is symbolic as well as literal, sometimes an ending can reflect back on the events of a scene (or many scenes) with a philosophical bent that explores the thematic undercurrents of the work. In this example from Jane Hamilton's novel
A Map of the World,
the scene ends with a description of a dip in a swimming pool. But this event also means something more to the character:

At face value it had been a dip on a hot night. But it was something else,

too. I could see that now, something on the order of a baptism, a kind

of blessing.

Ideas of baptism and blessings are recurring themes in the novel, and they make many appearances. Hamilton's use of these themes to end a scene leaves these ideas in the back of the reader's mind like a curious aftertaste that lingers through the scenes that follow.

The best way to work in a philosophical angle is often through the use of a comparison like a simile or metaphor, often a visual comparison, and always in the point of view of whichever character is most important to the scene. For instance, a character who is struggling to decide on whether or not to keep an unexpected pregnancy might, at the end of a scene, see a mother cat nursing her kittens and feel revulsion, which helps her understand her own maternal instincts. You could have her reflect upon this philosophically: "I was frightened by the babies' hunger, their desperate need. I was a woman, and pregnant, but I knew in that moment a mother was so much more than that. More than I could ever be." Let these musings seep out through the character's point of view, not through yours— the author's.

Philosophical endings tend to work best when:

• You're writing in the first person, since the reader is already inside the mind of the character intimately

• Your character is already prone to philosophical musing (it's better not to try for the philosophical ending if your character is literal or not very introspective)

• Your novel or story has a strong theme (redemption, empowerment, loss) that lends itself to philosophical summaries

• Your novel or story is more character driven than plot or action driven; it's hard to get philosophical when a character is about to fall from a cliff or is running from the police

THE CONCLUSIVE ENDING

There comes a time when a scene simply needs to end without anything fancy to get in the way. In these instances, your ending doesn't need to portend any future event, or lend thematic resonance; its job is just to conclude something that has happened or to tie up a plot point. This might be the place you kill off a character that you know must die. Death is a momentous act, and placing a death at the end of a scene gives the reader time to decide how she feels, and if she is ready to keep reading right away.

There are many other conclusive kinds of endings. You can answer questions that have been posed throughout the scene or the story. Who really
is
Superman, Lois Lane wants to know. At the end of a scene, he can reveal himself as Clark Kent. You can unmask murderers, reveal the results of blood tests, and lay down jail sentences at the end of scenes in as straightforward a fashion as you need in order to get the job done.

A conclusive ending bears a feeling of finality, which will leave the reader with a very different experience than if you end with things hanging in the balance, dangling at the edge of a cliff. Eventually, there will be places in your narrative where one plot avenue or character detail needs to be tied up so that others can be handled.

For instance, in Michelle Richmond's novel
The Year of Fog,
protagonist Abby Mason loses sight of her fiance's daughter, Emma, for just a brief moment, long enough for the child to disappear. She is not seen again for nearly a year. Even after Emma's father, Jake, gives up searching for his daughter months after her disappearance, Abby keeps up the search on her own. When the child finally is found, that event concludes a major plotline in the novel, but the novel doesn't end there.

She comes out grimacing, holding her fingers to her nose. It's a nothing gesture, universal among children, and yet I'm strangled with emotion just to do see her doing this thing, this normal thing. Alive.

Because it strikes such a resounding note of conclusion, this terrific scene ending could easily be the end of the novel. That said, there is, in fact,

much more for Jake, Abby, and Emma to cope with due to all they've been through over the course of the story.

Conclusive scene endings are not the ultimate end of the story or novel, just conclusions to plotlines or events that were set in motion by the significant situation.

In part three, we'll look at ways to end the many different types of scenes that will compose your narrative. Ultimately, though, you will have to choose each scene's ending individually to ensure that it fits the mood, the pace, and the plot.

Imagine entering the chilly, ornate cavern of the Vatican, expecting to be amazed by its historical and artistic beauty, only to find yourself disoriented by all the gilt and marble and the cathedral's sheer size. Imagine you did not know where to look first and immediately got a headache. Unfamiliar surroundings can make us feel unsettled and overwhelmed. This is also true of the fictional surroundings you create in scenes. You must act as the tour guide through each scene, expertly guiding the reader to all the important details, pointing out only what is necessary and what will help the reader understand what he sees.

The purpose of setting, a core element of the scene, is almost always to support and contain the action of the scene, but rarely to be the star. Still, setting requires careful consideration, because you want to ground the reader.

Though we'll discuss the implications of setting in specific scene types in part three, it's good to absorb the essential types of setting and props you'll eventually be using.

The first element of building the stage for any scene is describing what can be
seen.
When you create a physical world in each scene, you provide a solid framework to which to affix all the ineffable details to come, like feelings and thoughts. The more clearly you describe what can be seen, the more likely your reader is to feel right at home.