Bump in the Night - Sci-Fi & Fantasy

As much as we might enjoy reading about “happy little elves,” conflict and battle are fundamental to science fiction and fantasy, and have been since their inception in mythology (if anyone here has read Beowulf, you’ll know what I mean). But writing battle scenes does not always come naturally to those of us who have spent our lives wielding a pen instead of a sword. Like the rehearsal of a well choreographed dance, timing, physical movement, and mental reactions are all crucial to an exciting and believable battle scene. Today’s post will discuss how these elements come into play in small or one-on-one skirmishes. Next week, we will explore specific considerations for major battles between larger groups.

Timing
Successful battle scenes are those that keep the reader in suspense. Readers should feel as breathless as the characters themselves as they wait for an enemy to strike or desperately parry an attack. If the tension drops for a prolonged period of time, the feeling of danger will dissipate and your reader will lose interest. This is where pacing comes in. Everything in a fight should move quickly, hovering on the edge of moving too fast for the reader to follow. Sentences should be short and to the point. Elaborate description should be omitted whenever possible in favor of quick sketches of characters’ (often jumbled) impressions and sensations. Moments of stillness can be very effective in a fight scene, but only if the emotional tension is maintained - through anxiety at waiting for a hidden enemy to strike again, pain at discovering a fresh wound, fear for the safety of companions, etc. Always include an element of the unexpected to keep your characters (and your reader) a little off balance; rarely should a protagonist feel completely in control during a fight.

Movement
Experience, size, and physical and mental conditions (both temporary and permanent) all affect how a character moves in battle. As anyone who has ever studied a Martial Art knows, it is much more difficult to coordinate your hands, feet, and intentions than it looks. Inexperienced fighters (as many sci-fi/fantasy protagonists are) move slowly and clumsily, and are almost as likely to trip over themselves as they are to hit their aggressor. Swords and other weapons, while not nearly as heavy in reality as those depicted in some fantasy novels, are cumbersome and awkward to wield unless you have trained for many months or years to master them. Physical size also plays a role in movement and balance. Thanks to the law of inertia, larger people cannot move from rest or change direction as fast as those who are smaller. The same is true for weapons - there’s no such thing as a quick swipe with a broadsword without magical intervention. And if your character has any extra appendages, like wings or a tail, you will need to think about how they will help or hinder his or her balance and agility. Finally, keep in mind that some conditions and circumstances - like having traveled miles on horseback or not eaten for three days or even fighting in the darkness - will change how well your character can react and retaliate.

Thought
In battle (and elsewhere), characters’ thoughts should mirror the pace of the scene. That means they should probably be fast, panicked, and not entirely coherent. It’s okay (and often even expected) for your character’s thoughts and actions to be irrational during a battle, as long as he or she remains relatively focused on the immediate danger and strategies for surviving it. Any conversations between characters should likewise be basic and concise - no blocks of dialogue! Long, contemplative moral discussions can come later.

The following is an excerpt from A Guide to Dangerous and Enchanting Creatures* (page 174):

Elves

Scientific name: Albus rbhus

Subspecies: Elves can be divided into three distinct subspecies: light-elves, dark-elves (also known as dwarves), and elfs. Light-elves can be traced back furthest in history – they were first described as a race of minor nature and fertility gods in ancient Norse mythology – and it is hypothesized that the other two subspecies evolved from them.

Physical description: Light-elves are closest to humans in appearance, though they are usually described as taller and lighter than the average human, with little to no body hair. Their senses and magical abilities are far above what is typical for humans (some believe that human magic originated through interbreeding with light-elves). Their skin is usually described as very pale and glowing with an inner light, which has led to theories about a connection to the sun or sun gods. Dark-elves are shorter and stockier, measuring slightly below the human average in height. They are famous for their large beards. Elfs are tiny creatures, similar in appearance to fairies. They often have large ears and noses, and may sport wings. The ears of all three subspecies may rise to a slight point at the top.

Habitat: Elves were first discovered in the cold lands of Scandinavia during the Viking Age. Since then, they have migrated throughout Europe, establishing significant populations in Iceland, Germany, England, and the Netherlands. Light-elves and elfs generally settle in natural areas, especially forests, fields, and mountain glades, while dark-elves construct massive fortresses underground.

Behavior: Light-elves are generally peaceful creatures, though they may become dangerous if offended. They enjoy dancing in the woods; it is said that any humans who spot them at this pastime may find themselves enchanted to watch for hundreds of years. Dark elves live and labor underground, and are often skilled blacksmiths and masons. Elfs interact more with humans than their cousins, usually while engaging in mischief. They have been known to create “elf-circles” out of stomped grass or mushrooms, which may cause disease or discomfort in humans who tamper with them. They are often associated with other small mythical creatures, like brownies and nymphs, and are similar in their habits. There has been some controversy over the enslavement of elfs for manual labor (see Santa vs. the North Pole).

In literature: Light and dark-elves became famous in modern times with the publication of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series, where they play a prominent role (though he originally intended them to be more gnome-like than traditional Norse elves). Elfs or elf-like creatures have been featured in the Artemis Fowl and Harry Potter series.

 *Which is a publication that only exists for purposes of this post!

In an age when global warming and terrorist threats are so common as to become mundane, it is not surprising that we are increasingly obsessed with disasters. They permeate our science-fiction writing and films: from 2004’s “The Day After Tomorrow” (global warming triggers a massive ice age - how’s that for irony?) to this year’s “The Happening” and beyond. If you want to construct your own “perfect storm,” here are a few basics you should know.

Creating the Perfect Storm

Whether you’re dealing with fire or water, neurotoxins or bacteria, a balance between realism and the fantastic is the key to creating a captivating disaster. A perfect storm can be large or small, localized or world-wide, but it should be (or at least feel) possible - a disaster caused by, say, mass hypnosis by pets given superpowers through catnip would be dismissed by an audience as nonsense or even comedy. At the same time, your disaster should not be predictable. A hurricane by itself is not interesting enough to capture reader or viewer attention because they will already know what to expect. Suspense is crucial.

Information about the exact nature of the disaster should be dispensed conservatively, giving the audience enough to keep them interested and allow them to follow the story without taking away their uncertainty about what will happen next. It’s fine for things to become increasingly dire for the characters in the middle of the disaster (as that category 1 hurricane becomes the size of the continental United States), but they should never be so bad that escape seems impossible. Audiences want your characters to survive because they can picture themselves and their friends in the same situation. They will be unlikely to fully engage with characters they see as “doomed” (this is one of the reasons why having your main character die at the beginning of a novel or film and then doing a flashback of the circumstances that killed them is generally unwise). And speaking of characters…

Disasters: the Human Side

People react very predictably in disasters, yet these reactions are often portrayed inaccurately in movies and books. Most experts agree that men and women in the middle of disasters go through three distinct phases in what is referred to as the “survival arc”: denial, deliberation, and the decisive moment.

In the denial phase, people’s reactions slow. They try to continue with their routines and may show an unusual dedication to procedure as they attempt to cling to normalcy. People in a crashed airplane, for example, may try to find and carry off their stowed luggage. Most of the time, victims remain calm. The riot scenes that are a common fixture of disaster movies and books are unlikely to occur. When fear kicks in, people proceed to the deliberation phase. This is when many of them will begin to panic. Surges of adrenaline can make simple tasks like buckling a life jacket more difficult. Tunnel vision leads to increased focus on details over the “whole picture,” and people may lose their ability to reason. Finally, they reach the decisive moment. Victims of a disaster often become immobilized during this phase - conscious, but paralyzed and unable to move or react. Those who are more self-confident or independent are more likely to be able to make decisions that will increase their odds of survival.

To learn more about the human side of disasters, visit this link. Then rent “Airplane!,” my favorite (spoof of a) disaster movie.