Something my screenwriting prof told us that really stuck with me was “avoid just moving bodies through space”, as in—movement on its own isn’t storytelling. I sometimes get into this habit where I get so caught up in where my characters are spatially that I forget to tell the story in favour of clearing up who is where and what each movement is, ala:
Anna walked over to the kitchen, picked up the pitcher and paused, deciding whether or not she wanted water, before crossing back through the living room and looking out the window, then walked back towards the kitchen yadda yadda yadda, you’re bored, I’m bored, this isn’t a story, this is someone walking around.
As with everything in writing, I’m not saying movement should be cut out entirely, but I am saying that it works best when it’s used intentionally. In any normal scene, other than a quick set up of who is generally where at the start of the scene: (Anna sat in the driver’s seat, staring down at her phone as John fell into the passenger seat beside her), we don’t need to know every little movement they make—readers will assume and fill in the spaces where movement may seem obvious.
Then, the best time to bring up movement again is either for a dramatic motion (Anna leapt from the car window, tumbling across the concrete), or a dramatic shift in emotion/psychology. (John’s brows furrowed tightly. Turning on his heel, he stormed from the room.)
Essentially, if you can take it out, you should. We have to trust our readers that they will fill in all the spaces we leave—we don’t necessarily have to write it out for them.
andulkaphoto
areudirty
stormborns
