Fight Sequences for the Squeamish
Fights are fast: fast in movies; fast on TV; fast on the stage. They can’t be slow in novels. Fight sequences that take pages and pages to describe are not fight sequences per se; they are minutely detailed movements by the protagonist against the antagonist which could, given certain phrases, be boring for the reader. Something we authors want to avoid: boring the reader.
How we avoid boring the reader depends on four things: word choices, sentence structure, technically correct actions, and emotions.
First, word choices. Specifically, verbs.
She hit John in the face.
She smashed John across the face, jarring his glasses off, and bloodying his nose.
Hit is a perfectly good verb. It doesn’t portray much: fist to face. Smashed, Jarred, Bloodying are better. Smacked, back-handed, and stabbed are also good. Authors need to find the proper verb to portray the action.
Second, sentence structure. Action sequences want short sentences. Action is fast. Action is short.
She smashed John across the face, jarring his glasses off, and bloodying his nose.
She smashed John’s face. His glasses flew off. His nose burst red.
The first sentence is nice, it gives us all the information we need. The second sentence is quicker. Fast. Like action. Short, staccato sentences match the short staccato action.
By the way (rant here), movie fights last several minutes, maybe five or ten minutes. Real life fights last seconds. In fact, if your protagonist gets hit in the head with the butt of a rifle, she isn’t getting up to smash the antagonist in the face. She’s going down for the count. Plus, getting a fist to the face hurts. A lot. Ask Muhammed Ali. He said getting hit by a good boxer, like George Foreman, isn’t painful, but suddenly you wonder why your legs don’t work, your eyes can’t focus, and you pray to get to the bell ending the round. On the other hand, getting hit by a bad boxer (almost everyone of us) hurts a lot; you get cut, you bleed; a paper cut times a million.
Third, technically correct descriptions of the action should be avoided. Why? Because the reader doesn’t care if a reverse side kick to the solar plexus has injured your antagonist’s small intestine causing him great pain. They want to know She kicked him. His intestine ruptured. He collapsed. If you the author know that taekwondo’s reverse side kick is lethal and can stop an antagonist in his or her tracks, fine. Wonderful. Set that information up before your protagonist has to use it.
Fourth, emotion. Not your emotion. The readers’ emotions. In portions leading up to the fight, get the readers emotionally connected to your protagonist so that when he or she has to fight for their lives, the readers are worried about the outcome, they root for the protagonist, they fear the antagonist will get the upper hand. Getting people involved emotionally doesn’t rely on technically correct descriptions. It relies on sentence structure, word choices, and laying the ground work early.
If you have any worries, comments, compliments, or questions, I’d love to hear from you.