Timing, Pacing, & Tension: What Are They and How Are They Different? (Part 3 of 3)

Tension

A story’s tension comes from its rhythm, timing, and pacing, which is what keeps a reader glued to the page and an audience in their seats. Let’s break down why that is.

Film editor Robert Dalva once said, “…all good editors have to be good dancers.” That’s because film moves at a rhythm. Without that rhythm, the film stutters and flounders. The same is true on the page. When the words, sentences, ideas, and story don’t flow, the reader loses focus. It’s like watching a dancer who stumbles. It breaks the magic of the dance. You lose your focus on the movement and start paying attention to the dancer. Everyone knows the artist is not who the audience should notice.

When a film or novel stutters, the audience becomes aware of their surroundings and sees the writer and director. They emerge from the haze of good storytelling and become aware of the mechanics, losing the thread and emotion of what is happening to the characters. (The same thing happens when a reader notices a typo or grammatical error. The editor in them jumps to the foreground and the mood is broken.)

Tension only builds when the audience is immersed, when they are wrapped up in the story enough to jump, yelp, and react. They must feel the tension building to appreciate its release. This can’t happen if they lose focus from some minor details.

Think about the last time you saw a bad movie. The laughable special effects, dialogue, acting, sets, CGI may have made you laugh, but that’s probably all it did. We remember whatever holds our attention. It is up to us as writers to make sure that is the story and not poor mechanics.

Tension relies on a strong rhythm, free of stumbles and stutters.

It also relies on pacing. The quicker the pace, the higher the tension, which is why action movies and thrillers move so quickly. The frantic pace on the page is reflected in the reader. There is a neurological reason for this that will be the topic of an upcoming blog, but for now it is enough to understand that readers experience the story on a physical and emotional level. Any time that experience is interrupted, there is a recovery period during which the reader or audience is detached from the story and relegated to watching. Emotion lags behind because it takes time to re-engage.

But pacing alone isn’t enough to keep the reader engaged. You also need rhythm.

The formula for rhythm is quite simple. It is comprised of time plus energy plus movement.

Time
Time is the same as timing and pace combined—the placement of the scene and how quickly or slowly it unfolds.

Energy
Energy refers to the rise and fall of the story narrative. It’s the amount of emphasis you put on a particular scene or element; the amount of time you spend on the scene (duration); and how much each scene matters to the protagonist (i.e., how far it pushes your character along their journey to confronting their fatal flaw and climax).

Movement
Movement focuses more on your characters’ emotional arcs. Movement refers to how characters physically move in the story and their rate of movement, but also how their decisions affect their actions, choices, and emotional state.

Movement is more than watching a character move across a room to answer the door. It’s the reason the character is in the room with the door in the first place. It’s how the character reacts to the ringing doorbell. It’s also in the speed at which the character moves toward the door.

Movement happens on multiple levels simultaneously, but its main purpose is to drive the character (and reader) toward the resolution or denouement. We speed toward the climax and crisis. How quickly we do that as writers will determine the pace and influence the rhythm.

If you write a book that races to the end, you will miss creating that all-important rhythm that will keep your reader hooked. A breakneck pace will leave your reader exhausted. But it also robs them of the opportunity to take what is happening, to absorb the impact on the character, and figure out how they feel about it. Move too quickly and you risk losing the meaning of your story. Move too slowly and you may lose your reader. The trick is to vary your pace by developing a rhythm that keeps your reader engaged, but also allows them to think and feel. The best part of mysteries, spy novels, and thrillers is trying to figure out who is responsible. Who murdered the victim? Who is involved in the conspiracy? Who knew what and when? Can I trust the narrator? Finding the right rhythm lets your reader ponder those questions and keep turning pages.

Tension is a series of question and answer. The questions draw the readers in, the answer resolves the tension of not knowing. Humans are curious beings and need to know what happens next, which is why cliffhangers are so annoying and effective. It’s why most chapters end in the middle, rendering every declaration of “just one more chapter” a lie. We need resolution. Tension requires it too. It needs resolution. It requires release.

It all comes down to tension and release. Tension and release.

Vary the energy, duration, pacing, and movement.

In film, editors use duration, movement, length of cut, patterns of cuts, matching or conflict, and sound to reveal time and energy. Musicians use modulation of notes and keys, tempo, tonality, dynamic range, and performance to influence movement and energy. Writers use words and rhythm in their sentences, paragraphs, scenes, chapters, and story. It’s the rhythm that makes the writing sing.

Tension is a component of that rhythm.

For those of you cringing right now, memories of bad middle school dances, take heart. All human motion is rhythmic: our breath, our heartbeat, the blink of our eyes, the way we walk. No matter how poorly you dance (even if you rival Elaine from Seinfeld for the title of worst dancer ever), you know rhythm. You feel it in the waves of the ocean and the flicker of the flame. It surrounds us. Lean into that and it will help you find the rhythm of your story. Listen to your words.