A to Z Challenge: T is for Tension

Welcome to Day 20 of the A to Z Challenge

T is for Tension:  mental or emotional strain; intense, suppressed suspense, anxiety, or excitement.  (Dictionary.com)

I've posted about this topic before.  If there is one hard and fast rule for writing a novel, it’s this:

Tension all the time, on every single page! 

After all, tension is what keeps the reader reading.  If it drags or slows down, the reader skims.  If it’s high, the reader slows down and reads every word.  It’s this moment-to-moment micro-tension that keeps the reader wondering what will happen next.  And this micro-tension comes from conflicting emotions.

A novel needs conflict in its dialogue, yet it’s not the information in the dialogue itself that creates tension, but rather the doubt about those facts and the apprehension of the character delivering it.  It should be emotional rather than cerebral.  The reader doesn’t want to know if the discussion will settle the argument, but whether they will make peace.  So dumping info via dialogue only works if it’s soaking in tension, if it’s a tug-of-war.  Zone in on the emotional friction instead of relying on the circumstances.  Allow emotions, especially contrasting emotions, to give force to the action. 

Same goes for exposition; use the conflicting passions of the characters to keep the reader reading to see if the conflict will be resolved.  A character wrestling with his own mind can generate dramatic tension, too, if you include contradictions, crises, opposing impulses, and clashing doctrine.     

Each scene in a novel should have its own mini arc: a beginning, rise, and a climax or reversal.  Afterwards, the hero may contemplate what just occurred before he moves on, but this inner dialogue or exposition should be used only to deepen the crisis and increase the tension, not to reiterate what the reader already knows.  Backstory is a common low-tension pitfall.  It’s acceptable to add it in as long as it’s not the goal.  Use the past to devise tension in the current conflict as it will make the reader curious and want to keep reading to find out what will happen.

Tension is not present in a setting or predicament.  Description does not create tension.  It comes from within those observing it, from the people inside the setting and circumstances.  One place is as ordinary as any other until you populate it with people and their problems.  And when you present the problem before the place, the setting may become a metaphor. 

I used this device in my novel.  The ever-shifting San Francisco fog became a metaphor for trouble.  Whenever something bad was about to happen, you can bet the fog would be swirling around in the background, creating a cue that the tension was building and about to explode. 

Is the tension in your story immediate, credible, personal, unavoidable, and most of all, urgent?  What tricks do you use to keep the reader reading?   

Notes on Craft: Tension

I love stories, whether they’re told by mouth, expressed through song, or acted out on film.  But more than anything, I love books.  I suppose the one feature that makes books different from these other genres is the pace at which the story unfolds.  I can read a book at whatever pace I choose.  Some books are only good enough for short bathroom breaks, while others are so well written I can barely put it down long enough to get my chores done.  So what’s the difference between them?  What makes a book a page-turner?

There are many elements that make up a good story.  While characters may or may not be likeable, they must be vivid and dynamic.  Dialogue must snap with electricity and be free of accompanying actions that bog down the pace.  Every scene must crackle with both inner and outer conflict conveyed through specific and identifiable turning points.  Setting must come alive not through eloquent writing, but through how the characters wrestle with their emotional ties to it.  The voice, more than just syntax, should sing clearly in detail and delivery, articulating a belief system and personal perspective while overwhelming the reader with authority and relieving us of skepticism.  So how does a writer accomplish each of these?  That’s easy.  Through tension.

As writers, we understand that a story has ebb and flow, a cycle of ups and downs.  But you cannot construct a story that is always on the upswing.  A reader cannot appreciate such an upswing unless there is a downswing with which to contrast it to.  And in order to keep the reader’s attention through a downswing, you must maintain tension.  Literary agent, Donald Maass, calls this micro-tension in his book “The Fire in Fiction.”  In it he says:

“Micro-tension is the moment-by-moment tension that keeps the reader in a constant state of suspense over what will happen, not in the story, but in the next few seconds.”

Maass portends that micro-tension is vital in all aspects of a novel, whether it be in dialogue, in action sequences, or in exposition.  And more importantly, “micro-tension...comes from emotions, and not just any old emotions, but conflicting emotions.” 

Donald Maass of the Maass Agency

Dialogue in a novel should never be truly natural, which is often stilted with interruptions.  If dialogue in a novel were written naturally, we would all be bored to death, wondering if the speaker was ever going to get around to his or her point.  Maass writes, “In dialogue, it’s not the information itself, but the doubt about the facts and the skepticism of the deliverer.”  It is “emotional, not intellectual,” that as readers, “we don’t want to know if the debate will settle the point of contention, but whether the debaters will reconcile.”   Also important, dumping information via dialogue only works “if it is infused with tension, and even then, it must be a tug-of-war.”  

This element of emotion is equally important in action.  Emotion, especially contrasting emotion, is what provides energy for each scene.  The same can be said for exposition, where the use of conflicting emotion keeps the reader involved.  They want and need to know if the characters will resolve their conflict.  This is where we learn of their “contradictions, dilemmas, opposing impulses, and clashing ideas…It puts the character’s heart and mind in peril,” explains Maass.

One area in a novel that frequently looses steam due to a lack of tension is backstory.  This is at its worst when backstory is used up front, before the story even has a chance to get started.  We lose interest simply because we don’t care about all those bits the author thinks we need to know in order for the story to make sense.  James Scott Bell calls this a first page mistake and warns never to front load with backstory, noting it will only serve to stall instead.  Maass contends that backstory may be added as long as it is not the point.  The point, he says, “is to set up the conflict of emotions and inner tension.”  He suggests using the past to create present conflict, that this will “stir curiosity to find out what will happen.”

So while tension is not the only aspect of a successful page-turner, it is of primary importance.  After reading “The Fire in Fiction,” I read through my own manuscript.  For the most part, I did have tension is every paragraph, but I where it lagged, I pumped it up using the techniques described in Maass’s book.  I highly recommend it as a necessary tool on craft for every writer. 

Read through your own manuscript.  Is tension present in every chapter, paragraph, or sentence?