Not Just for Series: Using Scenes and Sequels for Compelling Fiction

You might be thinking, What do scenes and sequels have to do with each other? However, if you’ve ever struggled to write satisfying character arcs, construct a gripping plot, or ensure tight pacing, then you’re in for an authorial treat. Today we’re talking about scenes and sequels as defined by master writer Dwight Swain: story units that are active and reactive, respectively. These terms have different definitions than you might expect, but recasting them can offer a fresh perspective on your story beats. Understanding scenes and sequels and how to use them effectively can radically transform your draft with tools that ensure powerful prose from start to finish.

When it comes to “scene,” we usually think of a story moment that occurs in a fixed location and time. However, for this fresh new perspective, we are transposing it into the context of story construction. Think of a scene as an action unit in that construction—a character is acting, pushing forward, making things happen.

Our second recasting is “sequel.” Rather than referring to the next book in a series, sequel in this instance is a reaction unit. These units are quieter, more emotional, and reflective. Don’t worry if you don’t have the hang of these yet—we’ll go into more detail on each.

Keeping in mind that scene is the action unit, it requires three essential components: goal, conflict, and disaster. Each part of a scene is active and moves the story forward, and these elements should be intentional, connecting to what’s come before and developing the character on the page.

You’ve likely heard that a good scene has a goal, and that advice holds true here as well. In this case, the goal doesn’t have to be directly connected to your character’s book-sized goal, but it should be a mini goal that moves them closer to achieving it. For example, your main character might have the goal of pulling off an incredible heist, but to get inside, she’ll need to steal a security card. Obtaining that card is a mini goal that supports her bigger goal.

As a writer, it’s your job to make life difficult for your characters. They should encounter obstacles that prevent them from getting what they want, and these obstacles can reveal their limitations or the flawed beliefs they hold at that point in the book. In the case of our master thief above, the conflict might be a change to the patrols or a new surveillance system. Perhaps our thief failed a job in the past by losing her nerve, and everything is stacking up in a way that makes it look like that may very well happen again.

The third part of a scene should feature an unexpected turn so that something worse happens to complicate your main character’s goal. If the protagonist fails, this is the “No, and . . .” that piles on to the problem. For example, maybe our thief gets caught by a guard who happens to be her brother: “No, she doesn’t get the security card, and she’s going to have some explaining to do at Thanksgiving.” Even if she does succeed, a disaster must follow. This is the “Yes, but . . .” that shows the problem is even bigger than expected, such as “Yes, our thief has successfully hacked into the surveillance system and gotten inside, but she finds her ex-partner and lover with the card in his hand.” As a caveat, some scenes can end positively and without a disaster, but if you take this route, you should be setting your character up for an impending disaster, providing a hook that keeps the reader curious about what’s going to happen next.

As you can see from these three elements, each part of a scene should be active. The character is moving and pushing the story forward through their actions. They are progressing towards a small goal that ultimately serves their bigger goal, experiencing setbacks as well as victories.

Where scene pushes the plot forward through action, sequence is that vital reaction, where the character reflects on the disaster that’s come before, figuring out how to respond or think about what’s happened. Sequels are an opportunity to reveal your character’s inner life and themes and connect them to the plot of the book. Like a scene, a sequel also has three main parts to consider.

First, the character should experience emotions connected with the disaster. How do they feel about what’s happened? What do they think about it? The impact of the disaster and how it appears in the sequel is the way readers relate to the main character. Here, they have space to empathize, relate, and connect to what’s happening with your character. In our example, readers can relate to her, whether she’s frightened by, furious about, or tickled by the turn of events.

The dilemma of the sequel refers to the new problem presented by the disaster. Because of this change, your character faces something new, and they have to figure out what to do about it. Here, you can tap back into internal motivation, flaws, desires, or fears of your main character. What parts of the problem are most important to your main character? Perhaps our thief is worried about her family learning about her moonlighting as a criminal, or maybe she’s worried about losing prestige in a guild. Maybe she needs to pay a debt with the money from her massive heist, or she wants it to fund an animal shelter. Regardless of what you choose, this dilemma tells your reader a lot about what your character cares about and what’s important to them.

While still part of the sequel, this element signals the return back to the action. Your character must make a decision about what’s happened and what they’re going to do now. They might decide that they need to do something different, or they might decide to try again regardless of their failure. In our example, our master thief may decide to try and make a run for it, talk it out, or get the card another way. The following scene would show her taking whatever action she chooses.

With a solid understanding of scene structure, you can use it to guide your revision. We’ll look at each part again and ask questions that can point you to an area in need of strengthening.

You may benefit from digging into the goal component of your scene and find ways to align this action unit with the rest of the story as a whole. What could your character want or need here that moves the story forward?

This element is a great place to talk about stakes—what kind of risk is your character facing? What can they lose? Can you make those stakes higher and more meaningful?

This element can be the trickiest of the three, but it’s essential to establish it well so the reader keeps turning pages. If your character has been tossed out of the frying pan and into the fire or thrust into a completely unexpected situation, readers will want to know what’s going to happen next! To dig into this element, you can consider what changes at the end of the scene.

Is there new information, a new arrival, or a new complication? If the character simply achieves what they set out to do after overcoming obstacles, checking off their to-do list, there isn’t much to keep the reader going. The disaster connects this scene to the overarching goal, and whether your character finds victory or defeat, this element ensures their resolve is tested even more. This element should also demonstrate that your character can’t go on this way. Even if they succeeded this time, their old patterns, beliefs, or habits won’t allow them to achieve what they want in the long run.

Sequels are necessary units to follow scenes because they allow the reader to understand and reflect on the action from the character’s side. They are a breather, a cooldown, an oasis. It’s easy to write action, but it’s even easier to skip over reflection to keep the action going. However, sequels don’t need to be long to be effective, and your reader—as well as the heart of your story—will benefit from well-timed ones. Sequels often mark important turning points, such as when your character steps away from their normal world, endures the emotional fallout of the crisis, or realizes a lesson in the climax.

Reactions tell us so much about a character, and it’s helpful to put these emotions and thoughts into the context of the whole to evaluate them.

• Does the new problem exacerbate a wound your character already has, or does it bring up something totally unique?
• Does it deepen the reader’s understanding and allow them to connect to the character as well as the bigger themes of the book?
• Is too much exposition needed to explain why this is a problem for your character?
• Above all, the best question to ask here is this: Is this actually a real problem?

If the solution is too easy or doesn’t really impact the characters, a different challenge might be called for to strengthen the story.

The decision in a sequel should be clear and indicate what your character is going to do next given the circumstances. To use this component in revision, you can ask questions about the plan of action. Given what’s come before,

All genres have expectations when it comes to scenes and sequels, and the word count you dedicate to each one influences how the reader experiences the flow of the book. For example, romances do have scenes and action, but they almost always have longer and gentler sequels that allow readers to step inside the main character’s emotions, dwelling on the relationship’s ins and outs. Adventure novels and thrillers, on the other hand, should feature short and sweet sequels that give readers a breather before the next explosion or twist in the case. Your personal writing style will also influence the length of scenes and sequels in your book.

For revision on the macro level, try highlighting your scenes and sequels in two colors and then zoom out to view the manuscript in terms of these story units, both action and reflection. If you have long stretches of scenes with no sequels—or vice versa—you might consider adding a few to improve pacing. Too much action and no reflection can create a breathless and even confusing reading experience. Too much reflection and not enough forward movement can create a muddy, overly introspective read. Remember, your book’s genre and your own writing style can guide you here.

Reconsidering scenes and sequels can revolutionize the construction of your book by revealing weak or missing elements. Both offer ways to strengthen your story beats, and both provide valuable ways to engage your reader. To go back to our opening image, think about how these story units can shape your story. You’re stacking bricks, not moving separate bricks—your character shouldn’t merely be facing disaster, thinking about that disaster, facing a different disaster, and then thinking about that. Each unit should build on the last one, developing the story with each scene and sequel into a captivating book.

Meet the Guest Blogger: Jackie Peveto

Jackie Peveto is a passionate writer, editor, and artist. She is co-founder of Ground Crew Editorial, working with independent authors and traditional publishers, including Penguin Young Readers. Drawing on her teaching experience and a master’s degree in creative writing, she supports writers by volunteering with SCBWI and the Mixed-Up Files of Middle Grade Authors.

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I’d love to hear from you. Comment below using any of these prompts to guide you:

• What questions do you have?
• Have you ever thought about “sequel” as a reaction unit before? How might this new definition change your approach to story structure?
• Can you think of a scene from your current WIP that could be strengthened with a clearer disaster or a deeper sequel? What would you change?
• What is one thing you did professionally or personally today that you’re proud of?