literature

The Ninth Circle - Pacing Analysis

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    The clear, bell-like tones of the piano filled the hall, reverberating through the cavernous space, enhanced by the auditorium’s inbuilt acoustics.Jamie O’Dwyer closed his eyes as his fingers danced across the black and white keys, feeling the music course through his body like blood. He imagined the crowd, watching wide-eyed. He saw them leaning forward on their seats as his compositions surrounded and uplifted them. [Lengthy sentences set the scene in a slow build (like a panorama shot). The pace is slow but eases the reader into the setting without confusion.]

    As the music drew to its natural close, Jamie paused for effect, hands hovering above the keys. The audience applauded, wept, and cried out for more.

    “Hey, O’Dwyer, don’t fall asleep up there.”

    Jamie looked over the empty seats. [A few short statements break up the scene by jarring the reader out of the slow shot, just as Jamie was startled.] The lone figure of his music teacher stood halfway up the stands, coat on, and bag slung over her shoulder. It was later than he had realised if she was heading home.

    “I’m awake, sorry.”

    Miss Chamberlain laughed. “Imagining your adoring crowds again?”

    “It’ll happen someday.”

    “I don’t doubt it. I didn’t recognise that piece. Is it new?”

    Jamie shrugged. “Just something I was working on.”

    “Well, keep it up. But not tonight, ok? It’s late, you need to sleep, and rest those hands before they bleed.”

    “Just a bit longer, all right? You go, I can lock up.”

    [Lots of short sentences, with few dialogue tags. This quickens the pace. We are past the entry point now, and things are starting to happen.]

    Miss Chamberlain shook her head, smiling. “Just be out before the cleaners come through.” Hoisting her bag higher on her shoulder, Miss Chamberlain climbed the stairs to the door.

    When she was gone, Jamie turned back to the empty hall, once again picturing it full. His hands moved back to the keys and took up their dance.

    The music gained strength and momentum, building towards its crescendo. [These sentences build, along with the music] Jamie’s hand slipped, his finger hitting a foul note. The clash rang out through the hall, jarring Jamie from his reverie. He pulled his hands off the keys and looked down at them. The piece was one he knew off by heart. He could play it with his eyes closed. In fact, he often did. He hadn’t hit a wrong note in years. [These two short statements contrast with the longer descriptions, drawing attention to the oddness of the fact.]

    Shaking his head, he returned his fingers to the keys and continued to play. The music flowed, until a sudden chill swept over Jamie. His hands spasmed, and a crash of chimes sounded.

    Jamie turned on his stool, looking for the open door that had let in the draft, but saw nothing amiss. He was about to return to the piano when the cold struck him again. He shuddered and hunched against the frigid wave.

    A flicker on the wall drew his eye. A moment later he saw another shadow pass over, flying past like a bird. He turned towards the single spotlight, looking for the thing that had cast the shadow. There was nothing. [Now things start to change. We alternate between long and short sentences to create a fluctuating rhythm.]

    Another shadow flew past. He spun on his seat.

    “Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing. “The auditorium’s closed. You shouldn’t be here.” He waited for the reply, or for the cleaners to appear and call out a greeting with the wave of a mop.

    A swarm of shadows crossed the wall, moving around Jamie in a circle. He jumped up from his stool, backing away from the piano.

    “What’s going on? Who’s doing this?”

    The swirling vortex of shadows grew thicker and tighter, closing in on him him. Jamie tried to run. Something cold barred his way, pushing him back. The shadows descended. Jamie cried out. His voice was sucked from his lungs. [The sentences become short, speeding up the pace and escalating the tension, and progress of time. As Jamie enters a more panicked state, he focuses on the details in quick succession.]

    The swirling mass cloaked him, dragging him down to the floor. [Here, a scene break causes us to freeze-frame on the last image. Although the outcome is fairly obvious, this lack of proper resolution leads the reader into the next scene to find out exactly what happened.]

    

*          *         *


    Tala strode into the apartment, swinging her laden bag onto the kitchen counter. The clang of metal filled the small apartment. Aiva looked up from the couch with narrowed eyes. [These statements are similar length, and give a consistent rhythm to create the opening image.]

    “Bought you some toys,” Tala said, taking a silver tipped tomahawk out of the bag and tossing it to her.

    Aiva caught it with a start. “Jesus. Warn me next time.”

    “Heads up.” Tala tossed her a box of iron bolts for her crossbow, then lifted out a katana and eyed along its length. “Check out this beauty. Guy at the store gave me a discount too. I know you like ordering stuff off the Highway, but there are definite advantages to buying in-store.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, and you should have seen the look on this guy’s face when he just wandered in off the street. He must have thought it was some new-age shop, or something, and there we are with a whole bloody arsenal laid out on the counter.” [This is a long piece of dialogue, broken up with some small actions. Despite the use of long/complex sentences, the nature of Tala’s speech (jumping from topic to topic) gives a sense of quickened pace as we move through several points very quickly.]

    Aiva placed the tomahawk and bolts on the floor, and returned to her book.

    “Oh, come on. Not even a smile?” Tala dropped the katana back on the bag and turned to Aiva with her arms folded. “How’ve you been?”

    “The same as I was this morning.”

    “Yeah, I noticed. Listen, Ivy, don’t you think that maybe it’s time you got out of the house? It’s been two months since Hartley died and—”

    “I don’t want to talk about… that,” Aiva cut her off.

    “You can’t avoid saying her name for ever. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

    “Tala. I said no.”

    “Look, just come back to work. I met with a client at our new office today. You know, the one you haven’t been to yet.”

    “I’ve been busy here.” [Aiva’s statements are consistently short, whereas Tala’s are longer. This builds tension by showing there is a disconnect between them in terms of mood/interest. In this instance, the alternating of sentence length is used to show character, rather than influence pace.]

    Tala looked at the dishes stacking up in the sink. “Yeah, I can tell. Anyway, this client’s willing to offer real money, the kind that pays for power, and food, and those damn novels of yours. We just have to track down whatever killed his son. He said the police brushed it off as a suicide. Guy was on the road to being a concert pianist.” [We’re back now to Tala’s listing of events, which keeps things moving at a decent speed.] Aiva made no response, so Tala kept talking, if only to fill the room with some kind of noise. “I got into the morgue to see the body. Jamie O’Dwyer. It was creepy. Mortician said asphyxiation was the cause of death, but there were no marks on his neck, or anything. [And now we learn the outcome of the first scene.] I’m thinking something fae related. I could use your help figuring out what.” She waited to see if Aiva took the bait. “You could use those books of yours. I know how much you like books.”

    “Where was he killed?” Aiva asked, without looking up. [Once again, Tala’s long-winded speech is met by a single-sentence response. Again, this is to show character and mood.]

    “In the university auditorium.” She tried to keep the excitement out of her voice that Aiva was actually showing an interest in something.

    “He was playing?”

    “Yeah. Music teacher saw him last. Said he was playing something new.”

    “No marks on his body?”

    “Nothing. Like something just sucked the life out of him. Pretty interesting, huh?”

    “Sluagh.”

    “Bless you.” [Lack of dialogue tags creates a fast paced interaction.]

    “Slu-ah,” she sounded out, eyes flicking up from her book with a look of irritation. “They’re spirits, not fae. They feed on the life force of creative people.” [Here we break the dialogue with some small description again, to stop it becoming repetitive, and to stop the reader losing track of who is who. This is doubly important, because Aiva is now breaking her pattern and actually using multiple sentences! Cue: she’s finally engaging in the scene.]

    “Oh. Great. Guess that solves it then. I’ll just go and find these sluagh all by myself. It’ll probably be dangerous. I mean, they have killed someone. I don’t even know where to look. Guess I’ll just wander the streets of Dublin until I find trouble, or it finds me.”

    Aiva snapped her book closed. “If I come with you, do you promise to stop being so damned dramatic?”

    “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Come on.” She grabbed Aiva’s coat off the hook and tossed it to her. Extending an arm, she made to grab Aiva’s hand and pull her to her feet, but Aiva shied away from the contact. Withdrawing her hand, Tala backed away and turned for the door. [Even though very little action actually takes place in this scene, I feel the pace is still appropriate, and keeps up with the relatively quick-moving pace of the overall story. The use of sentence length is there mainly to show the dynamic between the two characters.]


This is for the NaNoPlotMo workshop From Super Speed to Slow-Mo - Style and Pacing

The idea is to take a passage of writing, and analyse it on a micro level, by picking out things like sentence structure, dialogue and description, and narration, to see how the pacing is affected.

This section is the opening of the second book in the Ninth Circle series, which will be my project for NaNoWriMo 2016. The first scene was quite short, so I decided to include the second as well. The two scenes also contrast quite well, with one focusing more on events, and the other on character.
© 2016 - 2024 C-A-Harland
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queenofeagles's avatar
Awesome! Your writing style is quick indeed - even during the parts where things go relatively slow. I love how you used sentence length to distinguish one character from the other. It worked really well! I guess that changes when Aiva's mood improves. I hope it will improve... She's grumpy!

Question though: at the beginning of the second part you use sentences with similar lengths, to give a 'consistent rhythm'. It works for you, because that paragraph is short, but too many sentences of a similar length will make a text boring to read. When do you throw in something shorter/longer for some variety?