How to Write a Scene (or at least How I Write a Scene)

Reader, please note: this is a distillation of my process. Yours might be different. I’d love to learn more about how you write scenes, particularly if it’s markedly different from this. 

What follows is how I break down scene construction from intention to conflict to execution. In doing so, I attempt to make the process less mysterious and more repeatable. 

With that in mind, let’s get into it.

Identify the Purpose of the Scene

Before I write anything, I ask a simple question: Why is this scene in the script?

There are a few things that the scene can do in a script. Remember, these aren’t mutually exclusive. A scene might do any of the following:

• Advance the plot
  
• Reveal character
  
• Build tension
  
• Pay off a setup
  

That is, in a case where I am unable to articulate clearly the purpose of the scene, I pause. That means that perhaps the scene doesn’t belong at all. 

However, if the idea of the scene is fascinating to me, I might still write it just to see what happens. Sometimes amazing discoveries come from things that are otherwise off the track of the story, whether that’s a clutch of dialogue or an encounter with a character I didn’t even know I needed. It might just unlock something essential about the character’s motivations, the story world itself, or maybe it’s just fun to write. 

Remember, nothing is wasted; you might just be able to repurpose it at another point. 

Exercise: Scene Justification

Choose a scene you’ve written or plan to write. Ask yourself what would happen to the story if the scene were cut. (Then write “how to write a scene” for SEO. Not really.)

Make sure you can summarize the narrative function of the scene in one sentence.

Make sure there is an emotional tone shift from the scene before. 

If it doesn’t seem like you’re ticking these boxes, reconsider the purpose and try to sharpen it. Rewrite the scene and see if it now fits better within the story. 

If it doesn’t, remove and put in a separate document for offcuts. You never know when that might become a short story or its own film! 

Identify the Major Conflict

With purpose out of the way, the conflict becomes king. Conflict of course is the engine of any scene. 

Nearly all scenes* are arrayed around opposing forces. Even in situations with multiple characters, you’ll mostly end up with two distinct sides. Furthermore, each side generally has a designated mouthpiece, with other aligned characters remaining mostly silent. 

What we get is a miniature (figurative, not literal) swordfight between the two sides. The tension is developed as we explore how evenly matched the two sides are and see how the audience reacts as the stakes rise and fall for each side. 

In rare circumstances, like the Mexican Standoff (see The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, Reservoir Dogs, etc.), there will be three competing sides. These are tricky and less common, but they bloody well work so I’m including them here.

*See Twin Peaks: the Return for the occasional scene with zero opposing force.

Exercise: Two Forces, One Line Each

Write one sentence describing what Force A wants in this scene. 

Write another sentence describing what Force B wants in this scene.

Unless these desires are already mutually exclusive, tweak them until they are. 

For example: Force A knows her brother ran over the child and wants him to go to the cops, while Force B knows the secret will destroy the family name and doesn’t want it public.

Needless to say, the opposing forces create a tension that’s worth a multiple-page situation. 

Map Beats and Reversals

Now I start sketching the beats of the scene. These are the distinct units of action or reaction: “moments” that make up the spine of the interaction.

Generally, I aim for 8–10 beats. This isn’t a hard-and-fast rule, but it tends to be the case. 

Generally speaking, each of these is a reveal or a reversal of some sort: a character changes tactics in the fight, makes a surprising revelation, pulls a weapon, etc.

Understanding these points in advance and arranging them to fit gives me some sort of a scaffolding. When I start writing, there’s more than a blank page staring at me. I know the points that need to be addressed within the scene, so even if things get slightly out of hand I have a map to return to.

Then I’m going to write how to write a scene again for the internet gods.

Exercise: A Scene Beat Sheet

Pick a scene (or come up with something suitably ludicrous, e.g. “Ben Braddock shares an elevator with Mr. Robinson five years later”) and write down 8–10 beats. Put them in a logical sequence. 

For example:

1. They pretend to ignore each other.
2. Mr. Robinson finally says something cutting about Ben’s performance in bed.
3. Ben tells Mr. Robinson at least he (Ben) was getting some action.
4. Mr. Robinson stews.
5. Mr. Robinson tells him they’ll ignore any grandchildren.
6. Ben tells him there are already two and they’re happier not knowing the grandparents.
7. Mr. Robinson throttles Ben.
8. The door opens on a crowd of waiting nuns.

See–all in order. It just needs fleshing out.

Visualize/Write the Scene

Start with the setting. Get the vibes and mood in place. 

Picture the scene unfolding in real time. See it in your minds eye and keep your fingers typing as you go. Get used to seeing the film in your mind and transcribing what you see and hear–it’s not always precisely what’s on the page, and that’s the point. 

Aim to begin in media res. That means in the middle of the action. Cut in when shit is already awkward as; it makes for more compelling viewing. No need for a slow ramp-up when TikTok has swiss-cheesed the world’s attention span. NB: you can always do this later in edits, but do yourself a favor and work it into your scene writing.

Then let the scene play out organically. Then write how to write a scene one more time for a better SEO score.

The beat sheet allows the shape of it to remain fairly clear, but no reason to force anything. If a bit of action, a dialogue, or sometimes even a character shows up that isn’t in the outline, let it rip and see where this leads.

Exercise: Scene Sprint

Choose a setting (a bus stop, a kitchen, a hotel bar) and pick two characters with opposing goals. Obviously you need to figure out what those goals are.

See how deep into the scene you can jump, e.g. on to a line like, “Your mother was absolutely filthy in bed.” (Particularly if it isn’t the father talking.)

Now figure out how to let the characters provide enough context for the viewer to get full functionality from the scene. Don’t stress if it’s messy or imperfect. It will be. Focus on getting the camera in your head to work properly. 

Give it another read and mark the surprising and/or potent moments. These will be the anchor points for the rewrite.

Let the Characters Take Over

Would-be Zen Roshi Tom Robbins once referred to creative writing as pulling a rabbit out of the hat, only to continue “…a fascinating aspect of creative writing is that the rabbit so often threatens to seize control of the hat.” 

Old Tommy Rotten is correct about this aspect of creative writing. Sometimes it strikes gold. Often it invites chaos. In any case, it has a real tendency to bring the raw and human into your writing.

If that rabbit grabs the hat, let it run. See what happens like the old improv “yes, and…” You can always cut back later (but don’t throw away!). Sooner or later, character rebellion will be the thing you couldn’t predict yet makes all the difference.

Exercise: Character Hijack

Take a scene you’ve outlined. Choose one of the characters.

Now, imagine this character does something completely unexpected halfway through the scene — something that throws your whole outline off course.

That is, she confesses something. Simply gets up and leaves. Drops trou and takes a piss on the kitchen table. Tells you that her Stanford entry essay was about the abortion she had at 14.

Just finish the scene out the way it is. Let it go where it needs to. Question whether you learned something new about the character, or whether the scene now contains more or less emotional/thematic weight. 

Sure, a lot of this is likely to get scrapped. The exercise here is about loosening your grip. 

Rough First, Refine Later

The rough draft of any scene is almost certainly bound to suck.

As you gain experience, your instincts will get better. You’ll better be able to honor both structure and purpose while allowing spontaneity. Otherwise shit just looks like the robot wrote it. You know what I mean.

Think about a scene as a negotiation between the story you’re trying to tell and the story your characters are actually telling. Maybe you’re just along for the ride on this one.

Checklist

1. Scene Purpose – What is this scene for?
   
2. Conflict – Who wants what? Who’s in opposition?
   
3. Beat Sheet – List 8–10 major moves or shifts.
   
4. Visualize and Write – See the movie, write what happens.
   
5. Let Characters Take Over – Embrace surprises and deviations.
   

Bonus Challenge

Write a three-page scene using this process from scratch. Then:

• Show it to a trusted reader.
  
• Ask what they think the scene is “about.”
  
• If they say what you intended, great.
  
• If they say something else, are they correct? Is it a deeper layer? Are you hiding something? Or does it just need a rewrite?