How I write about beating people up
Mar 27, 2014 20:15:09 GMT -5
Shinko, Coaster, and 3 more like this
Post by Kiddo on Mar 27, 2014 20:15:09 GMT -5
Sometimes people tell me I write good fight scenes. My experience is in medieval combat as part of a reeactment group. Now, I want to make something very clear here.
I'm a terrible fighter.
Like seriously, I get cozy with the ground a lot. Because I'm laying there. Dead.
This is also pretend fighting. It's pretty intense for me because I don't like getting hit and because I'm outmassed by everyone out there and that's really intimidating, but it's still pretend fighting. I get to stand up and walk away at the end of the day. A lot of what I'll talk about is extrapolating what my brain does during combat.
I also don't fight much anymore because of my health, but hopefully I'll be able to change that now that I have three dozen arrows to shoot at people. (they're blunt)
If you're looking for stories about the thrill of victory, I am not the person to talk to. If you're looking for explanations of what fighting does to the brain, what you see and feel in a pitched melee, about the noise, the way the brain shuts down and instinct takes over, and about the numbing terror of throwing yourself forwards into the spears because there is no where else to and the cold certainty that you will not survive – I got you covered.
Let's talk about gear briefly.
This is my gear. Most of it. I didn't drag the helmet upstairs because the helm isn't an accurate representation of what they'd wear, we modify them for safety's sake. We do some other things that aren't accurate because we don't want to actually hurt people, but I'm not going to be giving actual combat advice here. You don't want my advice, for reasons I've already stated.
You can google to find out what each piece is and what it's called and the likes. I just wanted to provide a picture of what armor that actually gets worn can look like. And yes, those plates are plastic because weight is an issue for me and they're on the inside so only I will know I'm cheating. Everything else is metal or leather. The weapons are rattan because I don't want to actually hurt anyone. But let me tell you what wearing armor is like.
It boils down to money.
If you've got the cash to get a suit fitted to your body, I'm sure it's great. I haven't done that, so my gear is a bit lacking in the comfort department. The straps pinch. Stuff twists around a bit, especially since I don't have a gambeson (padded jacket that goes under everything) to attach armor to. Sometimes I have to stop and readjust, especially the legs. My gorget makes me feel like I'm choking when I get stuck in the thick of things, making the claustaphobic feeling worse. And I have no idea how the coat of plates feels because I actually haven't worn it yet. It's new. A lot of the times I'll ditch pieces – like the arms – because they're heavy and I'm exhausted. If I'm on the crossbow, I won't be wearing them.
When I'm writing about combat, I try to mention these details. If I'm writing a character that is inexperienced or new to armor, or doesn't have gear that is suited to them, I talk about how the straps pinch and how something might not sit right, or how surprising the weight is. I also try to talk about how they put it on, the order, and depending on what kind of body armor it is, whether it's being laced up or buckled. I haven't really had a character that was very familiar with their armor, but at some point it becomes a routine and the person knows the order in which to put everything on. Legs first, then body, because some body armor makes it hard to bend over, for instance. And well-fitted armor that you're used to using can become just a part of you.
Here's a scene I wrote a while back about someone armoring up. I think of this as building the reader's confidence. Demonstrating that what I know of armor and fighting doesn't come just from watching movies (there are movies that do a good job with it, but then there's others...)
So that's the gear. I'm sure similar techniques work on other time periods. The key is confidence - make the reader believe you know exactly what it feels like to buckle on your armor, be it in a metal breastplate or a futuristic power suit.
Now. Fighting.
I don't think I can fully describe everything that a battle is, not fully. Rather, I pick a few things from my experiences that I want to convey, and it often depends on the experience level of the character I'm writing about.
For an inexperienced character, I talk about the noise and the way the mind seems to shut down. See, melees are loud. REALLY loud. The impact of weapon upon shield and shield upon shield, and the rallying cries of individual units all blending into one roaring din - it's like a physical force of its own. It's disorienting. And in all this chaos, you just pick one thing to hear and focus on and pray it's what you need to hear. Orders. Your rallying cry. Someone yelling 'PUSH' and you push because that's all you can focus on. Someone yelling 'CHARGE' and you throw yourself forwards because that is the one sound that makes sense. And then there's the cold terror of realizing your unit is breaking apart and you begin yelling into that din, hoping to hear someone else yelling blue or red or beer or bacon or whatever word you picked as your rally cry and when you hear it, you claw your way to them and fall back into line because you KNOW you will die without someone at your side.
And in describing that, I sort of also showed you how I write battle scenes. I'm not going to talk much about style because my style is my style. I try to use long sentences mixed in with really short phrases. Chaotic. But pick your own way you want to convey it. The important thing to drive home is that it is impossible to focus on any one thing. The mind just sort of shuts down and you can only process a few things, usually the things you've trained on. Everything else gets driven out of your mind.
And sometimes, you get into this 'waiting to die' mindset. It's terrifying. It's when you're fighting a battle of attrition, holding ground in a defensive position, and you can only think about your fallback point and are wondering when they're going to charge and dreading when they do, because you know it's going to be bloody. But you almost WANT them to, just to get it over with and stop the waiting.
If you're on the back line, it's a bit easier to focus on different aspects of the battle. When I fight crossbow, I've got a much clearer mind and can actually think and plan out my shots. But when you're face to face with someone, rational thought tends to flee.
So when you go to write your inexperienced fight, pick something that they're going to latch onto. It might be a particular way to position their stance, or hold their gun. Or maybe they're out for revenge and only care about seeing this one person die. Whatever that is, make it their world. Let's say for this random character here that it's holding their ground.
I try to keep the physical description focused on their movements, what they're doing and what they're feeling, tangibly. Emotions tend to fall to the side when writing these scenes because battles aren't terribly emotional. There is no room for them. Yes, there's terror and excitement, but it's like you have two minds - one is your training and instinct and it takes precedence over the emotions.
People will experience combat in different ways, however, and I am merely describing what I feel. Tweak my advice as necessary.
Now, a more experienced fighter... well, that's not me, but I imagine you have a clearer head. You can rely on your instinct and muscle memory more, freeing up some of the mind to analyze the situation. You have a higher view on where the battle is going and can make decisions. That's why the experienced people get to be commanders. It's like taking a bird's eye view on the battle and you can see the action more clearly. I experience a fraction of this when I'm on the crossbow. So let's take a look at how I'd write an experienced fighter...
Still very physical, but far more confident. There are more high-level details describing the setting of the battlefield and theorizing what the enemy would try to do and how to counter it. These are the things that an experienced fighter would know and it would be second-nature to them.
But let's talk about emotion. It happens. There are people that fight like that. I'm not one of them, but I can make wild guesses on what it feels like. For me, I get stuck into the terror mindset sometimes. It's overwhelming. It fuels my movements. But let's change that fuel to anger.
It's far less analytic and while it's still following the flow of action, the description is focused more on the visceral results of combat.
There's a couple different ways of writing combat. Basically, I think the key to writing is confidence in what is going on. Don't be vague. Don't wave swords around (in the air, like you just don't care). Be precise in what you write, be confident, be specific. Make it sound like you know exactly what it feels like to punch your spear through an enemy's breastplate. Don't get carried away with the dramatics - battles only get dramatic in the retelling. Tell it like it is, dress it up with a bit of description, and let the intensity of trying to kill someone speak for itself.
I'm a terrible fighter.
Like seriously, I get cozy with the ground a lot. Because I'm laying there. Dead.
This is also pretend fighting. It's pretty intense for me because I don't like getting hit and because I'm outmassed by everyone out there and that's really intimidating, but it's still pretend fighting. I get to stand up and walk away at the end of the day. A lot of what I'll talk about is extrapolating what my brain does during combat.
I also don't fight much anymore because of my health, but hopefully I'll be able to change that now that I have three dozen arrows to shoot at people. (they're blunt)
If you're looking for stories about the thrill of victory, I am not the person to talk to. If you're looking for explanations of what fighting does to the brain, what you see and feel in a pitched melee, about the noise, the way the brain shuts down and instinct takes over, and about the numbing terror of throwing yourself forwards into the spears because there is no where else to and the cold certainty that you will not survive – I got you covered.
Let's talk about gear briefly.
This is my gear. Most of it. I didn't drag the helmet upstairs because the helm isn't an accurate representation of what they'd wear, we modify them for safety's sake. We do some other things that aren't accurate because we don't want to actually hurt people, but I'm not going to be giving actual combat advice here. You don't want my advice, for reasons I've already stated.
You can google to find out what each piece is and what it's called and the likes. I just wanted to provide a picture of what armor that actually gets worn can look like. And yes, those plates are plastic because weight is an issue for me and they're on the inside so only I will know I'm cheating. Everything else is metal or leather. The weapons are rattan because I don't want to actually hurt anyone. But let me tell you what wearing armor is like.
It boils down to money.
If you've got the cash to get a suit fitted to your body, I'm sure it's great. I haven't done that, so my gear is a bit lacking in the comfort department. The straps pinch. Stuff twists around a bit, especially since I don't have a gambeson (padded jacket that goes under everything) to attach armor to. Sometimes I have to stop and readjust, especially the legs. My gorget makes me feel like I'm choking when I get stuck in the thick of things, making the claustaphobic feeling worse. And I have no idea how the coat of plates feels because I actually haven't worn it yet. It's new. A lot of the times I'll ditch pieces – like the arms – because they're heavy and I'm exhausted. If I'm on the crossbow, I won't be wearing them.
When I'm writing about combat, I try to mention these details. If I'm writing a character that is inexperienced or new to armor, or doesn't have gear that is suited to them, I talk about how the straps pinch and how something might not sit right, or how surprising the weight is. I also try to talk about how they put it on, the order, and depending on what kind of body armor it is, whether it's being laced up or buckled. I haven't really had a character that was very familiar with their armor, but at some point it becomes a routine and the person knows the order in which to put everything on. Legs first, then body, because some body armor makes it hard to bend over, for instance. And well-fitted armor that you're used to using can become just a part of you.
Here's a scene I wrote a while back about someone armoring up. I think of this as building the reader's confidence. Demonstrating that what I know of armor and fighting doesn't come just from watching movies (there are movies that do a good job with it, but then there's others...)
My kit was in the corner along with the rest of my company. The bulk of it hung on an armor stand and I undid the ties and pulled the heavy jacket on. It was a thick linen, double-layered, with a coat of chainmail sewn into the inside. It hung down to my knees, tapering into points at the front and back, and laced down the front. There were no sleeves – my arms were protected by slim pauldrons that covered my shoulders and upper arms, lacing directly to the gambeson underneath. My vambraces were also metal, devoid of ornamentation, and I covered the wrist of those with thick leather gloves, lined with rabbit fur. I had to have someone else help me buckle the straps, holding the armor in place, tight against the fabric. I didn't wear armor on my legs. Everyone swore I would regret that someday, but my chainmail coat hung low enough and I had tried it once and spent too much time fighting with my own armor that I'd finally given up. All that was left was my coif, a hood of chainmail, and this sat on the outside of the hood it was sewn to, so that the metal links wouldn't be directly against the skin of my neck and head. It hung down across my shoulderblades and collarbone. The weight the armor added was significant, but I had grown used to it and with it distributed across my body I was still able to move easily enough.
So that's the gear. I'm sure similar techniques work on other time periods. The key is confidence - make the reader believe you know exactly what it feels like to buckle on your armor, be it in a metal breastplate or a futuristic power suit.
Now. Fighting.
I don't think I can fully describe everything that a battle is, not fully. Rather, I pick a few things from my experiences that I want to convey, and it often depends on the experience level of the character I'm writing about.
For an inexperienced character, I talk about the noise and the way the mind seems to shut down. See, melees are loud. REALLY loud. The impact of weapon upon shield and shield upon shield, and the rallying cries of individual units all blending into one roaring din - it's like a physical force of its own. It's disorienting. And in all this chaos, you just pick one thing to hear and focus on and pray it's what you need to hear. Orders. Your rallying cry. Someone yelling 'PUSH' and you push because that's all you can focus on. Someone yelling 'CHARGE' and you throw yourself forwards because that is the one sound that makes sense. And then there's the cold terror of realizing your unit is breaking apart and you begin yelling into that din, hoping to hear someone else yelling blue or red or beer or bacon or whatever word you picked as your rally cry and when you hear it, you claw your way to them and fall back into line because you KNOW you will die without someone at your side.
And in describing that, I sort of also showed you how I write battle scenes. I'm not going to talk much about style because my style is my style. I try to use long sentences mixed in with really short phrases. Chaotic. But pick your own way you want to convey it. The important thing to drive home is that it is impossible to focus on any one thing. The mind just sort of shuts down and you can only process a few things, usually the things you've trained on. Everything else gets driven out of your mind.
And sometimes, you get into this 'waiting to die' mindset. It's terrifying. It's when you're fighting a battle of attrition, holding ground in a defensive position, and you can only think about your fallback point and are wondering when they're going to charge and dreading when they do, because you know it's going to be bloody. But you almost WANT them to, just to get it over with and stop the waiting.
If you're on the back line, it's a bit easier to focus on different aspects of the battle. When I fight crossbow, I've got a much clearer mind and can actually think and plan out my shots. But when you're face to face with someone, rational thought tends to flee.
So when you go to write your inexperienced fight, pick something that they're going to latch onto. It might be a particular way to position their stance, or hold their gun. Or maybe they're out for revenge and only care about seeing this one person die. Whatever that is, make it their world. Let's say for this random character here that it's holding their ground.
There was barely time to register the charge. Bridget had spent so many agonizing minutes watching them advance, slowly, tentatively, spears weaving their points together and seeking a vulnerable point. Her hand was locked so hard on the hilt of her sword that her fingers ached and her sweat had gone cold long ago. Now, they came, and in the space of a heartbeat they were hitting the front line. For a moment, the world stopped making sense and there was only the pushing, the impact of their shields against hers and she ducked low, dropping her weight and bracing her legs wide, feeling her heels dig into the soft earth. Her shield was locked in front of her, her sword momentarily forgotten and everything became a matter of pushing - shove them back. Stop them from breaking through. Then something slipped past her ear - the point of a spear, jutting out in front of her line - and the pressure against her arm was suddenly relieved. Then, a body against her back, a shoulder against hers, and it was no longer just her strength holding them back. She could breathe again, and the line held.
I try to keep the physical description focused on their movements, what they're doing and what they're feeling, tangibly. Emotions tend to fall to the side when writing these scenes because battles aren't terribly emotional. There is no room for them. Yes, there's terror and excitement, but it's like you have two minds - one is your training and instinct and it takes precedence over the emotions.
People will experience combat in different ways, however, and I am merely describing what I feel. Tweak my advice as necessary.
Now, a more experienced fighter... well, that's not me, but I imagine you have a clearer head. You can rely on your instinct and muscle memory more, freeing up some of the mind to analyze the situation. You have a higher view on where the battle is going and can make decisions. That's why the experienced people get to be commanders. It's like taking a bird's eye view on the battle and you can see the action more clearly. I experience a fraction of this when I'm on the crossbow. So let's take a look at how I'd write an experienced fighter...
Bridget dropped back, letting the weight of her body carry her a pace away from her opponent, putting him at the end of her reach. She twisted her hips, bringing the head of the warhammer back, then pivoted again from the heel, the movement flowing up from her legs and through her arms, dragging the weapon down through the air until it connected with his upraised sword. Too late. Too weak. The blade was knocked down, aside, and the warhammer carried on until it connected with his skull. There was an impact that ran through her arms and he went weak in the knees, crumpling to the ground, but she was already turning, reversing the motion of her weapon and directing the momentum into the next of her attackers. There were three left. The closest ducked back, stepping out of her range, and she pivoted retreated, trying to keep the remainder in an arc in front of her. She couldn't let them get close. They'd pin her weapon then, and their shorter swords would put an end to it. Nor could she let them flank her - she needed room to maneuver and so she had to keep moving. Move or die. Thankfully, this was a dance she knew well, and as they ranged out to encircle her she darted to the side, towards the leftmost man, and snapped the warhammer down towards his shoulder.
Still very physical, but far more confident. There are more high-level details describing the setting of the battlefield and theorizing what the enemy would try to do and how to counter it. These are the things that an experienced fighter would know and it would be second-nature to them.
But let's talk about emotion. It happens. There are people that fight like that. I'm not one of them, but I can make wild guesses on what it feels like. For me, I get stuck into the terror mindset sometimes. It's overwhelming. It fuels my movements. But let's change that fuel to anger.
Every muscle was drawn tight, like wire, and Bridget lunged for him, catching his sword against her own and shoving it back. Her anger gave her strength, and the ferocity born from her hate threw him back and off-balance. Bridget followed this, closing in on him until they were only the space of a hand apart, swords trembling between their bodies. Everything around her had fallen away and all she could think of was this - of shoving him back, pushing his guard up and away, and then dragging her sword down and into his shoulder. There was the jar of his armor - then flesh - then bone - and a savage stab of triumph in her heart at seeing him shudder and stumble. His sword fell from numb fingers and the heady smell of fresh blood filled her senses. She jerked the weapon free, stepped back, and then reversed the grip and brought it down again. He jerked, and trembling, panting, she stepped back, leaving the sword behind in his chest.
It's far less analytic and while it's still following the flow of action, the description is focused more on the visceral results of combat.
There's a couple different ways of writing combat. Basically, I think the key to writing is confidence in what is going on. Don't be vague. Don't wave swords around (in the air, like you just don't care). Be precise in what you write, be confident, be specific. Make it sound like you know exactly what it feels like to punch your spear through an enemy's breastplate. Don't get carried away with the dramatics - battles only get dramatic in the retelling. Tell it like it is, dress it up with a bit of description, and let the intensity of trying to kill someone speak for itself.
