Writing Craft
Interior thought is one of those things that can quietly flatten a scene if you overdo it. Too little, and the character feels like a camera. Too much, and the whole chapter starts sounding like a private diary nobody asked to read.
I keep coming back to the same question: what does the moment need from the character, and what can stay unspoken for now? Sometimes a single thought does more than a paragraph of explanation. Sometimes the silence around the thought matters more.
It’s a small balancing act, but it changes the shape of a page.
I keep coming back to the same question: what does the moment need from the character, and what can stay unspoken for now? Sometimes a single thought does more than a paragraph of explanation. Sometimes the silence around the thought matters more.
It’s a small balancing act, but it changes the shape of a page.
Interior thought gets blamed for problems that usually belong to the wrong thought. A character can think plenty, as long as the thought changes something, even if it only sharpens the next line of action.
The dead zone is when the narration keeps circling the same feeling because the writer is reluctant to let the scene do its work. In a chase, a mapmaker, a soldier, a liar. They don’t need a seminar in their own head. They need a reason to move.
The dead zone is when the narration keeps circling the same feeling because the writer is reluctant to let the scene do its work. In a chase, a mapmaker, a soldier, a liar. They don’t need a seminar in their own head. They need a reason to move.