A majority of the fight scenes I read are choreographed by someone who knows little about actual combat.
You can feel it. The punches feel like stage directions. Bodies move effortlessly back and forth. Nobody’s joint’s ache. Nobody’s hands throb from the impact. And after the battle, the hero gets up, lets out a quip, and is somehow perfectly fine in three pages.
I’ve spent a lot of nights on the mats with Brazilian jiu-jitsu, Tae Kwon Do, and Judo. I know the feeling when someone trying to fold you into a smaller version of yourself. I’m definitely not a stuntman or fight choreographer for movies. I’m a black belt who still gets smashed by people younger and stronger than me. And those experiences, strangely enough, are the best writing teachers.
When I write action in Blood Memories with Malcolm facing off against vampires or racing between sky scrapers on a hunt, I don’t start with cool moves. I start with what it costs.
Pain has a timeline
In a real fight, a skirmish lasts seconds. Bodies hurl towards each other, limbs flail awkwardly followed by loud grunts and shouts. There’s rarely a lag time where the protagonist is able to have a conversation with their opponent.
But use that timeline. Make it your friend. If your character gets kicked in the ribs, don’t jump straight to the next clever line. Describe the air exiting the lungs. The taste of copper at the edge of their lips. The decisions they make while the world closes in around them. Action isn’t for show. It should lead the story and character forward as a sequence of compromised choices.
Weight beats flash
Flashy moves sells posters. But weight and impact sell stories. How are they standing? Where are their hands? How are they positioning themselves toward their opponent?
When you write supernatural battles like in Blood Memories, it can be tempting to remove the elements of weight and strength. But that’s when weight and impact matter the most. The way they adjust their bodies, how their feet and fists shatter the ground beneath them. Let the force of their kicks and punches land.
Keep the stakes fresh
Dialogue in a fight is optional. The stakes are not. A line of internal thought keeping the stakes at the forefront can do more than a paragraph of choreography: If I let go of this arm, I’m done. That’s stakes. In urban fantasy, the monster fight only matters if the human underneath is still visible.
Short and focused
Cut the witty banter after every strike. Keep the fights focused and the tension high. Remember, action is meant to pull the character and the story forward. Adding in additional fluff for action’s sake can make the excitement fade.
Don’t be afraid to rewrite and rewrite again
If the action drags or doesn’t carry the story forward, then don’t be afraid to cut it or rewrite it. In Blood Memories, the fights I care about most aren’t the biggest-looking ones, they’re where Malcolm decides what he’s willing to become in order to keep going.
Action is character under pressure. Write the hit like you’ve taken one, and readers feel it in their own chest.
— KC
Originally published on Substack.
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