I love writing action scenes. Whether that’s Uileac practicing mounted archery in Pride Before a Fall or Orrinir almost slashing Uileac to pieces in the upcoming Funeral of Hopes (yes, really!), I believe that action scenes can engage readers while offering a rousing look into character personalities.

After all, I chose to write a series with military characters. It’d be ridiculous not to have them.

Before I embarked on the Eirenic Verses, I wrote over a million words of Touken Ranbu fanfic. In that anime series, the protagonists are a bunch of personified Japanese katanas fighting time travelling monsters. So I got plenty of practice in depicting swordplay, which translated perfectly to my original fiction.

I would like to say I’m pretty good at action scenes, so I’d like to share what I’ve learned over my time writing them.

Do not start a story with a fight scene.

When I open a brand-new series that starts in media res with a battle, I stop reading, even if it’s well-written. In talking to other readers, many feel the same.

Why is this so annoying, though? One would believe that beginning with such an exciting, high-stakes moment would capture readers’ attention.

Actually, no.

Fight scenes require reader investment to resonate.

If you have not gotten us invested in these characters, we don’t care who lives or who dies. We’re not sure who to root for, even if you tell us one group is the good guys and one is the bad guys.

You are trying to force interest without actually working for it, throwing some explosions at us in hopes it will get our attention. But it doesn’t work.

Let us know the characters first: their hopes, their fears, their life circumstances, the overall situation in the world. Then, once we’ve come to care for them, we will care when they pull out a sword.

I will note that if you already have a series with established characters, it’s okay to start with a fight scene. Readers already know and like these characters; they have reason to care. However, if this is the first time we are meeting someone, we need to know about them outside of battle before we can care about their struggles.

Action scenes are a treat, not the main course.

If every day was your birthday, you wouldn’t look forward to it anymore. The same principle applies to action scenes: they need to feel special, which means they need to be used judiciously. Not everything can get a cool fight sequence.

In my post about melodrama, I pointed out that constantly throwing characters into endless action scenes makes readers lose interest. You can only ramp the stakes up so much before they become ridiculous and no one cares anymore.

Space these high-energy scenes throughout the text with plenty of buildup, and don’t forget to let readers take a breather afterward. This is essential for helping the action scene feel significant without overwhelming your readers.

Downtime after an action scene could be checking for injuries, talking about what happened, cleaning gear, etc. You can also show the aftermath of the scene, whether that is someone dying or having to go to the hospital, depending on your genre.

Fight scenes should be brief.

A ten-page fight scene is exhausting to read through. There’s only so much you can do in a single fight before it gets repetitive.

I try to keep my fight scenes to three pages max, but generally they are only a page and a half. This gives plenty of time to whirl through the mechanics and feelings without getting repetitive.

Employ short sentences.

Short, sharp sentences are crucial in the middle of a fight scene. The shorter the sentences, the more that your reader’s heart rate speeds up and the faster they read. This creates a sense of urgency, and it also keeps the text from lagging due to extraneous narration.

Don’t get too mechanical.

Of course, you need to tell us what they’re doing, but it’s fine to keep things a little vague.

The action scene is about the energy, not the mechanics. We need to feel the passion, the fear, the anger.

Remembering that every action needs a reaction is the perfect way to keep from getting too mechnical. POV character is hit, and then they react. They hit back, and the antagonist reacts.

Tone down the flashy cool moves.

We love when characters do something awesome, but again, it needs to feel earned: a treat, not a meal.

I believe in every action scene, there should be one “ooh!” moment, not a dozen. For example, in the fight scene between Sagremor and Orrinir in Pride Before a Fall, there is one cool move that ends the fight. I won’t spoil it, but it’s clever thinking on Orrinir’s part.

The rest of the time, both men are just slogging through the fight and trying not to disembowel each other. They are friends, after all, and this is meant to be a low-stakes competition.

You see this in action movies, too. Each fight in John Wick: Parabellum has that one awesome move, like the pencil trick or when he makes a horse kick someone. The rest is cut-and-dry normcore combat.

Add in dialogue – but keep it snappy.

Now, I don’t fight, but I do horseback ride. When I’m posting at the trot and my instructor gives me a command, I don’t say more than a few words. I’m too busy staying in rhythm, steering my horse, keeping my balance, and remembering to breathe (surprisingly hard).

Your characters will be the same. Always remember that characters aren’t real people, but they need to feel like real people.

Still, we do need some dialogue to break things up during a fight; otherwise, you have paragraphs and paragraphs of descriptions without any engagement from the characters.

The secret is to keep dialogue to one or two short sentences – and pertinent ones at that. Even the villain will not be going on a dastardly monologue while crossing swords with the hero because they, too, are a bit too distracted to think of these fantastic words.

Characters need weaknesses.

If we always know the protagonist is going to step away unscathed, then we do not care. There’s no point to watching an MC hew down line after line of nameless lackeys if it’s always going to turn out their way.

So, every character needs weaknesses. In Pride Before a Fall, Orrinir specifically calls out his friend Sagremor’s strengths and drawbacks:

The hooting crowd sank into a brownish blur as Orrinir honed in on all his friend’s weak spots. Sparring in the War Academy gave better insight than any one-off scuffle, and Orrinir had no intention of wasting this.

The smaller infantryman had an advantage in that Orrinir would have to swing lower than he was comfortable with, and Sagremor’s speed was never one to underestimate. However, Sagremor struggled with cross-body attacks; plus, he twisted to the right, protecting his sword hand, whenever hit.

Now, Orrinir and Sagremor know each other very well, having grown up training together. It’s unlikely that two opponents who have never met will be able to predict one another’s moves like this, though they may start to cotton on to each other’s idiosyncrasies throughout the course of a fight.

Still, you can think about what your character may do based on their personality. This will let you decide when this can be of benefit and when it may backfire.

Bold characters may make flashy moves that require a lot of leadup, during which time their opponent may have darted out of the way. However, they could also strike an impressive hit that KOs the villain.

More timid characters will constantly be on the defensive, which could mean they get struck and overpowered. At the same time, this could help them wear down the opponent, who is exerting a lot of energy into hitting them.

Physicality, too, will matter, just as Orrinir mentioned in the above. Because Orrinir is so much bigger than his friend, he will need to swing low to hit him, and he will not be as fast on his feet as Sagremor. However, he can use overwhelming attacks to get Sagremor off-balance, during which time he can finish him off.

Let characters make mistakes.

The joy of an action scene is that we’re not sure whether the MC will win. As such, they can slip up and get hit. This doesn’t make them seem weak; rather, it makes us hold our breath and hope they’ll bounce back better than ever.

Focus on the pain and emotion.

One of the problems with action scenes is that the author is so excited to show off their character’s cool powers that they forget we are supposed to be seeing (and feeling) through their eyes.

This often happens when someone moves from watching a bunch of action movies to writing books with action scenes. Instead of thinking emotionally, they are thinking visually: imagining how this would look on screen, where the character’s feelings are not necessarily important.

But these are two different mediums. In a book, we need to understand how a character thinks and feels – yes, even in third person omniscient. You cannot ignore this element in favor of showing off sick moves.

Did a strike barely scratch them, and they laugh it off? Were they grievously injured and now aren’t sure whether they can go on? Are they struggling to catch their breath, their ears ringing, or are they so used to this that it barely phases them?

You should also think about how character is processing this experience based on their own background. A soldier is going to be more detached, thinking about their next moves or how to dump a body afterward. Someone who has never fought before is going to be terrified, winging it, reacting instinctively.

Play dirty.

Lastly, remember that visceral, physical details are much more exciting to readers than a play-by-play.

Real fights are ugly. People bleed, spit, vomit, grunt, scream, beg, cry, or pass out. Sometimes, people even soil themselves in the middle of a fight, especially if they’re untrained or really getting pummeled.

Don’t feel the need to cram all of these into one fight scene because that would be overwhelming. Depending on your genre and the book’s overall tone, you may want to avoid some of the nastier elements to avoid grossing out your reader.

Still, some icky details sell that this is a real fight where the characters really get hurt. For example, one of my favorite parts in my first book, 9 Years Yearning, is when Orrinir gets a bloody nose and it drips all over his opponent. Disgusting? Yes. But realistic.

Some writers avoid letting their MC get gross because they want to impress upon us that this person is a total badass who never gets hurt. But again, we don’t feel high stakes if there’s no real danger.

It’s okay to let your MC get roughed up a bit: that doesn’t make them weak. They feel more real if they take actual damage from a fight, and we root for them harder.

The extent and execution of injuries will matter. In a brutal torture scene, you’re going to have far more extreme reactions from characters than if this is a little dust-up between pals. Consider how far you’re taking this fight and what the long-term ramifications will be.

Also, don’t forget to have some convalescence later, even if it’s just an ice pack for their face. Your characters shouldn’t walk it off like nothing’s wrong afterward because then we don’t feel like the fight even mattered.

Hopefully these tips have helped you. Let your imagination run wild and get your readers’ hearts racing through punchy (hah) action scenes! I’m looking forward to your work.