Fight scenes: Punch!, Kapow!, Attacco!?

Meta on writing fight scenes that I hope serves as a jumping point for discussion. I'm definitely not a trained ninja, Special Forces member, and/or historical re-enactor; just a fanfic reader with opinions of what I think works and doesn't.

The principal type of fight scenes that I don't like and that cause my eyes to glaze over are those that read like shopping lists.

Shirley the barbarian thrust forward with her longsword. Patricia the rogue parried the strike and turned. Felicity the assassin moved behind Patricia and stabbed her in the back. Patricia swallowed a healing potion. Evillyn the paladin attacked Felicity with her spear. The spear thrust was a forward stab from overhead and Felicity caught the point with her buckler. Evillyn let the spear point slide across the buckler and into Felicity's armour.

Other types of fight scenes that I don't like are where characters do something obviously impossible or foolish (don't decide to go to sleep in the middle of a manned enemy stronghold!), or where the glory's being hogged by one particular character. But characters who get away with doing the impossible or with hogging the spotlight usually have those problems outside the fighting as well, so I don't think these are problems specific to fight scenes as much as when one finds oneself falling into that laundry list approach. I'm not as good as others at picking up when characters are getting it wrong; what are your pet peeves on Ridiculous Weaponry Application? (Or Obviously Unrealistic Class Specialisation Rules?)

I think the first important thing is that a fight scene (like any other scene) has to have a reason to exist. Perhaps it's to show a character developing their abilities, proving mastery of some new skill or thinking on their feet. Or perhaps it's to try suspense, making the reader genuinely believe that the foe's dangerous and the characters are risking their lives. Perhaps it's to establish character: sometimes how a character fights is an important key to who they are. The answer to the purpose of the scene shouldn't be only "The characters had to fight here and I had to describe it in this level of detail"; you didn't. (Yet strangely, going the other way, the purpose of a fight scene probably shouldn't be what TV Tropes calls anviliciously obvious: hitting the reader over the head with the point you're trying to make.)

Then that reason becomes why the fight is interesting, and with that reason one has direction and structure to give the scene. I often like the effect of a limited third-person point of view: it doesn't jump around in many different heads to disorient the reader, and it gives an individual's perspective that can be easy to identify with. Showing the thoughts and feelings of the main character during the scene can give it emotional strength and character development. Nobody cares who wins a fight if nobody cares about the characters, so it's useful to show them as people with emotions. There's also the general writing principle of thinking about the character's five senses and using imagery and description to set a scene.

Yes, Felicity thought, your open back--oh, it's so easy, Pat, I can find this-- Then she stabbed, through a join in the leather armour that gaped wide and ready and made especially for her; triumph was in her as Patricia cried out, and warm blood flowed over her arms like water. The stench of it was thick and coppery, forced through her nostrils, the back of her throat heavy and filled. The colour was rose-red above her iron blade, the reward in the pain of what she cut, the hilt of her sword rough and chipped and slippery against her bare palm. She heard Evillyn's hoarse cry then, and with the white spear point coming at her she felt fear.

It's very far from perfect, but I like this sort of thing a lot more than the first example. Another key is, besides emotive language generally, to try to use direct rather than passive verbs. I have a fault of doing it, for example using 'She was running' rather than the clearer 'She ran'. There can be a place for that form of verbal construction ('He was, already, weak. He was, already, suffering. Then the final spell cracked open his ribcage.'), but often it is an improvement to use the simpler verb for a sense of action. Stronger, emotive and specific verbs are usually better than more general, nondescript verbs; for example, 'stabbed' and 'bled' can carry stronger images than 'struck'.

Once the reason and underlying structure behind the fight scene exist, then I think that's what should shape the laundry list of logistic steps in the battle. Knowing the reason means one probably knows now which characters need to be the focus of the scene, the ones who get the most obvious moments of achievement or tension. The tactics and actions for each character have to be worked in with the emotional keys, and one tries to make sure that manipulations of probability for thematic effect will seem reasonable to the reader. For example, if the goal of the fight scene is to show that the young adventurer's finally matured into someone reasonably competent, then one takes effort to think of plausible strategies for the character to try that are likely to succeed. (A reader should interpret it as the character's success rather than the author giving favouritism.) Or if the goal of the fight scene is to incapacitate the usually capable tank the party depends upon, then one can have them get unlucky as can happen to any fighter, and show the effect that no main characters are shielded from danger by the pen of the author. One needs to consider the specifics of the fight scene and I like to make lists for my personal reference, but the emotions and themes of the story have to give the details a reason to exist.

However, I have to admit that sometimes people do seem to read fight scenes out of geekiness and number-playing and to understand the logistics. In D&D-based webcomics I read, forum discussions of their fight scenes seem to spend a lot of time on the mathematics of Dodge Reflexes and Thac0 and Strength Bonuses and Special Abilities. The reason why I personally read the comics in question, though, is because of interest in the characters rather than the intellectual exercise of how long a second-level hobgoblin cleric can last against a tenth-level gnomish fighter/mage according to second edition artificial rules that may or may not be always plausible in a world where laws of physics exist. I suppose perhaps it's like chess: expert chess players might be interested in reading a detailed account of how a queen moved from C7 to C2 followed by a knight from F3 to H4, but ordinary readers of a novel would care more about the chess game as representing the mental duel between Kavilen and Irilio, how Kavilen shows a bold aggressive gambit and Irilio's slippery mind uses the knight to gradually breach Kavilen's defences. I'd rather read fanfiction set in a fantasy world rather than fanfiction where character statistics and rules are just behind the curtain (although Goblins and Order of the Stick do just that as part of their worldbuilding, and manage to have exciting drama too), or fanfiction that's purely focused on historical fighting geekery rather than character. I honestly think it's better writing where fight scenes are used to convey meaning about the characters as a primary purpose. Some writers are better than others at explaining rules of their worlds in a way that engenders fascination in the reader, but I'd like to move beyond Who Beat Up Whom and to a broad appeal.

How many ways have I Gotten It Wrong/Left Something Important Out?

I'm not sure how interesting this is because it's another fandom (so this is a separate, skippable post), but I've written up a detailed analysis of this example by Scarab Dynasty as the fic that I principally blame for how I think about writing fight scenes. What I think makes it good isn't the actual fight itself, which is a strategically uncomplicated superheroes-blast-each-other, but the flashbacks and thoughts. It's a fight between two people who have hated each other for a long time; one is an impulsive, zealous, tarnished heroine; the other a former villainess in the process of reforming due to being in love with the hero. The point of the scene isn't the fight itself but the raw emotions behind it, and that incredible intensity.

It begins with confusion from the protagonist, Sparx, the spirited superheroine. It sticks very closely to her as limited third-person point of view, made stronger by conveying the experience as it would appear to that particular person and ensuring that the reader remains inside her head.

It takes her about twenty seconds to realise that Chuck isn't sitting behind her on the Flash anymore. The last thing she remembers is telling him to hold on and a rather unnatural cry of alarm in her ears. Maybe he jumped, maybe he fell, but either way he's now staggering off to the side of the tavern looking... reasonably unhurt, if freaked beyond measure and...

And she can't see where Mark is.

'Little more careful with your mortals, Sparxie?'

Lots of confusion there, uncertainty about her human teenage sidekicks Chuck and Mark. There's already emotive, descriptive language in there: Chuck's not 'walking' off to the side of the tavern, he's 'staggering'; he's not 'unhurt' but only 'reasonably unhurt'; he's not just 'freaked' but 'freaked beyond measure'; and 'she can't see where Mark is' is obviously a matter of concern. (As a lot of writing advice will say, sometimes short and simple words can contain infinitely more meaning than long and convoluted circumlocutions. Some of the most emotive phrases in the English language are also the simplest: I love you, it is done, he is dead.) The last line is the first piece of aggression from the antagonist.

She is in trouble. For all her spiteful little lies and promises and faults and... and for just damn being there and being supposed to be there. Because this is Sparx's fight. Always has been. Always will be.

She attacks without thinking. It feels almost instinctive and maybe it is. Maybe it's just the program she's been trying so damned hard to get rid of, telling her what to do and how to act every step of the way, but for now, Sparx doesn't care. All she cares about is how every power up makes her veins prickle and every slash she takes at Lady Illusion's head just isn't quite close enough to make contact.

Relationship established; definite antagonism, and long and somewhat tangled sentences that indicate a very passionate, rushed thought process. There are descriptive words and extra adjectives: 'spiteful little', 'dammed hard', 'prickle', 'slash'. It's obvious that Sparx is angry, not thinking clearly, and she's going to hit something.

Then the villainess isn't quite as evil as Sparx thinks she is, making a verbal offer to get the vulnerable sidekicks to safety:

'I'll be generous, Sparx. Take them to the junkyard. It's the safest place in this dimension. I'll even stay away from it while you're there. Or else tell me what other plans the programmer has.'

This only escalates the drama, of course.

Generous. Yeah. She's generous alright. Sparx knows Lady Illusion's idea of generosity. Evils' generosity means waiting until you're looking instead of just shooting when your back is turned, and even that's just to make sure you can see them gloating as you die. Evil generosity is making it quick and painless rather than long and tedious, which evils never do, because they enjoy pain and they enjoy making others suffer.

Not all of them, maybe? Yeah. Some of them... change. She knows that. Or maybe they don't and Sparx just doesn't care.

This is a longish paragraph explaining Sparx' perspective and her reasons for her hatred, and ending with the "doesn't care".

There's a little more dialogue between our two antagonists, followed by a touch of humour in Sparx' mental processes:

Oblivion, she can protect them wherever they end up. She can protect them from her. It's what she's supposed to do, only now she's doing it because she wants to and not because of some stupid Knight's Code.

'Sparx... you don't need to do this.'

Sparx hesitates, suddenly a little scared. Because that was SO Chuck's voice in her ear and...

Damn, what is he, her conscience, now?

'More like a jellybean buddy, dude.'

But after that break, tension rises again in Sparx' mind.

Sparx doesn't much care about conscience. Who does? It's just something the mortals made up, right? Something to make them feel better about themselves. Something telling them to do good and fear not or do bad, so they never have to believe it's just them that's making all the fuckups.

And Sparx wants to make her own mistakes now.

And this? Zoar damn it, this fight isn't going to be one of them.

Very bad language ( ); and a return to serious fighting. And finally, there's a description of Lady Illusion's 'circling'. After lots of tense meditation in Sparx' head, a quite brief description of the moves the characters are making. Note how many sentences of this are about what the enemy's doing, versus how many sentences are about what Sparx feels about it:

Blue and red are both burning at once in Lady Illusion's open hands and Sparx isn't the slightest bit afraid of them. She knows...

Sparx knows that Lady Illusion has more power than she does right now, but she doesn't have more guts. Isn't a coward what she's always been? Running? From Fear, from her, from Kilobyte. Just a shell of bad values and self serving... whateverness.

Sparx doesn't care if she kills Lady Illusion.

She doesn't.

Not even if Chuck...

It's only that first sentence that explains what's going on in the fight. The power is in what the character feels about it, in the majority of the substance of the writing. Sparx is probably making a mistake, being too angry and bloodthirsty and not thinking straight; and her emotional reasons for making it are right here. Then Sparx is briefly distracted by Chuck talking, and experiences a "ball of red fire ripping at her stomach" as a result.

Sparx pulls herself up and tries to ignore the tear and the burning, because she's striking back before she even has time to think. Lady Illusion blocks her, her dark eyes bright and angry and actually a little scary, to anyone who isn't Sparx.

Who isn't scared of... well, anything, at the moment.

'Kid gloves are off, Sparx. Kid gloves are off.'

Second time. She's been hit there once before, and she can practically feel it again. One burn on top of another. Only the first time it had been Ace who hit her and it'd been an accident in training and...

First sentence is mostly a straight description of the physical moves of the fight's participants. Second sentence also describes the physical moves, but with descriptors 'dark eyes' and 'bright' and 'angry' and 'scary' added to make a more dramatic sentence. Then a sentence of Sparx' feelings; then a flashback sentence; then a sentence fragment that describes the action in a quick, short gulp. Fragments are useful to represent a mind charged by adrenaline and noticing things in short gasps. The next sentence, "She'd been hit there once before," is an explanation of the character's feelings and history; "One burn on top of another" is a sentence that gives a strong impression of pain; and then the last sentence is a flashback that establishes the character's history and current state. Much more about the character than the specific fighting motions.

And then there's a very long flashback sequence.

She remembers that happening. She can... see it. Or feel it. She's not sure which. Stone walls, targets in the shape of Pigface, weapons with training levels attached. Ace, hand on her shoulder, grinning.

Target practise at the academy. Sparx tries to concentrate knowing that she's in the middle of a fight and this really isn't a good time to be phasing out, but she can't help it.

Lightning Knight, choking on pollen as Sparx ran for the field medic. Illia.

Her name was Illia. She was allergic to grass.

A commander with a grave that used to be somewhere in a level that doesn't exist anymore.

An accident... falling metal, burning steel and oxygen. Random. The old Random. The way he USED to be, before...

No...

Seven paragraphs, five different flashback events. Intense memories coming in what's almost a series of bullet points; this enables the writing to be emotive and convey that fragmentary sense of adrenaline, how a reader can imagine it might feel to be involved in such a fight and not quite pulling oneself mentally together. Followed by another rambling justification from Sparx' point of view:

And especially not this one. Not Lady Illusion. Not the woman who saw Illia choking, mid-arrest, and took the opportunity to get away, leaving her to almost suffocate. Not the woman who attacks Sparx every damn chance she gets and lies to Sparx's friends and worst of all, lies to Ace. Not the woman who turned on someone she was supposed to be loyal to. And so he was evil then, so what? Loyalty counts for something in Sparx's book, it always has. Even when she's not all that sure who to...

Even though that list of crimes sounds quite plausible, a character who gives too many justifications for their actions is a character who knows, deep down, that perhaps they're getting something wrong. The sentence structure includes one fragment ('Not Lady Illusion'), and a repetitive use of 'Not' to begin longish, somewhat tangled sentences. The way this writing tool is used in the particular fight scene again adds to the intensity.

Note also that so much of this conflict is simply inside Sparx' head and memories. I counted 550 words and 27 paragraphs that were solely about Sparx' thoughts: a short and choppy paragraph structure, obviously, and none of it reporting on the actual fight taking place. The internal conflict within Sparx is very much the motivation for the scene, and it's what makes it strong. Finally we hear what the combatants are doing to each other, a strategically simple strike-and-riposte that's so much less important than their minds:

She pushes in again, a strike aimed at Lady Illusion's heart. She misses, but only just, strikes again at her side and catches, burning a welt in Lady Illusion's skin.

'Kill me and Ace won't forgive you. All he'll see is a...' (Lady Illusion winces through the kick to her ribs) '...Traitor. You don't want that, Sparx. You don't want someone you love to hate you.'

Sparx isn't sure why she's so keen on stating the obvious. Ace just doesn't know what's good for him. Lady Illusion attacks again, fists flying and Sparx feels her back being forced against concrete.

'I don't care! You're the traitor!'

'Hypocritical, don't you think?'

Then there's more dialogue following upon that; the descriptions of what goes on in the fight are short (eg. 'she ducks a punch', 'It's a weak attack, too weak to hurt'). The important part is only that they're fighting each other and exchanging fierce words, not the mechanical detail of each block and strike. Lady Illusion, the supposed antagonist and villain of the scene, continues to talk and make attempts at negotiation:

'The... mortals. You have a choice, Sparx. Stick around to fight with me or get them out of here.'

'Rick's getting them out!' Sparx pushes back, and this time... yes! The sword penetrates, a slash to the side, jolting against the woman's ribs. Lady Illusion staggers.

Sparx can hear Chuck yelling at her, but she doesn't listen. So long as he stays back. So long as he stays out of harm's way, it doesn't matter.

'And you... believe him?' It must hurt for her to talk, now. But she still won't. Shut. Up.

A subtle indication there that Sparx might just be wrong about who's the villain here. There's also the repetition of 'So long', and the sentence fragmentation of 'won't. Shut. Up.' There's more fighting between them, a standoff, with Lady Illusion winning.

Lady Illusion is standing up now but Sparx... can't. She's trying to, but the burns... hurt. She grips her sword tighter than she means too and too tightly to be able to form a decent strike when Lady Illusion gets close enough.

...What's she WAITING for? Attack, damnit, freak. Prove it. Prove me right.

I AM right.

I didn't drive her to this. She's a bad guy, she's a freak, she's supposed to KILL ME.

No...

No, I'm supposed to kill her.'

...Who was it that attacked first? Always?

Lady Illusion's scowl deepens. 'Things could have been different, Sparx.'

Much more of the thought process, again; more repetition of personal justification with "I AM right." And then another long flashback sequence!

She's caught up between the academy, and Ace and the commanders she always hated, and Illia and Random and Chuck and jellybeans and Rick and Fear and Lady Illusion. Her brain is tossing her back and forth between one memory file and the next at a steadily quickening pace.

'I'm bored, it's cooler in your room.'

'Oh, Rick, you really did care about her, didn't you?'

'It's not my fault, Ace, why the hell...'

'Illia? Illia, you'll be all right, okay? Look at me. Please, come on, cadet, focus!'

'Let's just make this quick, alright?'

'Hello to you too, Lugnut.' ...

'Can't I have a cannon? I always wanted a wrist cannon. Swords are slow!'

'It's ALWAYS been personal between you and Ace, hasn't it?' ...

'Blood is fleeting, my dear. The sword, however, is of eternal status.'

'Wanna jellybean?'

'...Yeah. Why not?' ...

It's actually twenty-three single lines of flashbacks that probably make a lot more sense in context. Lady Illusion's standing there and about to finish Sparx off, the two of them aiming one last shot at each other...

And then the scene ends with an intervention from a third character, which is written using Sparx' point of view and continuing with the use of more descriptive words. For example, 'lance out' is more descriptive a phrase than 'shoot'; 'aftershock' better than 'disturbance'; 'energy still spewing' more vivid than 'energy flowing'. I won't quote it because it's very contextual to the fandom, but it keeps up that intensity of Sparx' limited point of view.

In short, what I learned from this particular fight scene is that the reason for a fight scene to exist is the characters. Emotional intensity is more interesting than mechanical detail; the point of a fight scene is to make the reader care for the characters. While I also like it when characters think of innovative strategies or unconventional usage of abilities (for example, a mage uses a water cantrip to hold water over an enemy's mouth and nose; a shapeshifter uses their powers to blend their flesh with another person), that step of serving a characterisation purpose and thinking about the reasons for the fight scene is the most important.

I was also thinking about picking a Baldur's Gate fanfic fight scene to copy-and-paste from, but at least one of the writers I'd like to do it to doesn't seem to be around on the boards any more.

I think I agree with most of what you've said...

As many people who have ever paid a lot of money for a pay-per-view boxing match, real life fights and moments of violence like that are usually over very quickly often leaving you unaware that they've even happened, and thus feeling that you've wasted a lot of money.

But, to be honest, it's the build up that really matters; everything that's gone before, the reason for the fight taking place, at least for me. This was taken to its furthest ever extreme in the 'Dollars' trilogy of spaghetti westerns, where there would always be a showdown, and a good few minutes spent with the camera zooming ever closer to the eyes of the combatants while the music, tension building, and then... it only takes a second to pull a trigger and shoot somebody. But I feel likewise with any other form of violence; its not the fight itself that really interests me, but the emotions and what goes through the minds of the characters before and after.

I guess that just really reflects my own interests; I tend to be focused more on the characters themselves than on their soundings or even what they're doing. Something I should probably try to improve.

The reason I haven't responded to this before was that I had no idea the smithy was still around... it was invisible to me, for some reason.

The reason I haven't responded to this before was that I had no idea the smithy was still around... it was invisible to me, for some reason.

It was invisible to all of us. According to O-Girl, she had to tinker with the viewing permissions back when we had that rash of spammers, and when she did, she accidentally made the Smithy and Forge invisible to anyone who had been logged on at the time. Whoops.

Edited by AlphaMonkey, 15 June 2011 - 08:40 PM.