Spoiling for a Fight

when it gets physical...

I already know that some of you won’t agree with the remark below. This topic has come up in conversations with other writers before.

Here is the bone of contention: I find long and elaborate descriptions of fights boring and irritating. Maybe it’s the influence of CGI-heavy super-hero movies but these highly choreographed scenes seem to pop up in fiction more than they used to.

They go something like this, and I summarize: Character A. punches character B. in the face, bones crack. A. then pivots on his left foot, raises his right knee, catches B., who’s stumbling, in the stomach. B., who must have abs of steel, headbutts A., breaks three teeth and a nose, more bones crack, blood gushes. B. pushes A. into a wall, plaster rains on them (would be more fun if it was a grandfather clock, ding dong). A.’s arms windmill, his right fist catches the side of B.’s neck, on the left side (you have to be precise). B. falls on one knee, manages to bite A.’s leg (he’s wearing shorts, forgot to mention that) on the way down, then he lunges forward, grabs A. by his belt (belted shorts? whatever), pulls him off his feet, and over his head. A. crashes through a glass table (it’s always a glass table), B. jumps on him, flattens the table even more, and… This goes on for another page, maybe two, with a plethora of “this happens, then that and then again”.

Tired yawn … get it done already, guys.

The stuff that makes a good movie scene—remember the fight in the apartment in The Bourne Identity?—is tedious reading. When I encounter one of these, I can’t help thinking that the writer went to the gym and wants to show off what the trainer taught them. They’re like: hey, see how proficient I am at hand to hand combat. I know all the moves and what these punches are called. I shiver to think they might have rehearsed on the carpet at home, ahem, with a loved one???

I’ll make an exception for professionals. If the character is a special forces veteran making a living as an assassin, as in Rob Hart’s Assassins Anonymous, the choreography makes sense, especially when the character is taking a ton of hurt because he doesn’t want to kill his attacker. That’s the premise, the story line, and the fight scene with its mix of reluctance and self-preservation is completely justified. But some frat boy being cornered by punks in the alley behind a Biergarten suddenly summoning his internal Jason Statham out of thin air? Pleeease….

I apologize for using so many movie references but you’re more likely to have seen the films than read the books. I think Guy Ritchie understands what I’m talking about. He used the “planning down a fight to the millimeter/microsecond” concept to great comical effect in his Sherlock Holmes (2009). Sherlock, Robert Downey Jr., visualizes every move ahead of the confrontation. The action is presented in slow motion, with numbers and arrows, like dance steps, before being experienced in real time and so fast it’s done and over with in a blur. It’s very funny.

Because that’s the thing. Violence happens quicker than its description can be read. Hence, even the best writing seems ponderous and clunky. When the fight takes three pages of painstaking ballet moves, I find it unbearable.

And the biggest problem is that it takes me out of the narrative.

To be clear, I’m not against fight scenes in stories. I just want them short and to the point, skip the technicalities.

Here’s a little thing I wrote quite a while ago, for a book that might never be published. My detective, Declan Shaw, is attacked by three guys hired by his client, twins are among the aggressors. He knows an ambush is coming, and he’s prepared. He’s walking from his truck to his apartment. Deserted street. Night.

Declan took a drag of his cheroot, listened to the crackling of the burning tobacco. It was that quiet. He walked without haste, a solitary man at night enjoying his thoughts and his smoke. He dropped the cigar butt and crushed it under the heel of a steel-toed work boot. Tougher than his usual cowboy boots. A precaution. Like the key ring in his hand. The loft’s front door was twelve feet away.

He heard the rush of footsteps behind him, ducked and turned. His fist connected with a soft midriff, a second before his other hand struck up and found the neck of the attacker. The man screamed. Declan didn’t pause to check the damage. The other half of the twinset was on him from the opposite side. He grabbed a handful of clothing and swung sideways, using the man’s momentum to slam him against the side of the building. There was a crack and a howl. The night was suddenly full of noise. Tweedledee and Tweedledum were down on the sidewalk. Where was number three? Declan perceived movement on his left, and dropped to the ground. The gunshot was booming loud.

Is that fast enough? Too much, too little, what do you think? And I’m curious to hear about your examples of a good or bad fight scene in a book or a short story. Hit me in the comments.

A new feature – the best short story I read recently

Every week, a fellow writer blogs about the best short story he’s read. He mostly looks at print magazines. I thought I would do the same for online publications that are fee to read. My choice for this post comes from Jim Cummings, here on Substack. The story is called Very Fine Work. Jim’s writing is extraordinary. Give it a read.

Two more weeks of Summer Promo!

Great books at side-of-the-pool friendly prices. My short story collection "Family and Other Ailments" is part of the July Smashwords promotion. If you haven't got it yet, this is your opportunity. Cheaper than the cool drink (or the coffee) you'll have with it, and the pleasure will last longer.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1432794

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash