Some scenes have plenty happening—but still don’t work. Wait. What? How can that be?

The characters are moving. Talking. Discovering things. Maybe somebody is even running for her life. But the scene feels rushed. Or heavy. Or weirdly distant.

So, what’s the problem? Well, often it simply boils down to balance. Let’s look at that.

Most scenes contain some combination of three things:

Action. Emotion. Information.

The trick is knowing which one should lead and how much of the scene the others need.

Action Without Emotion Is Just Movement

Suppose your heroine is being chased through a parking garage.

She runs. Someone shoots at her. She ducks behind a car. She races for the stairwell.

Technically, that’s pretty exciting stuff, right?

But if we don’t know what the experience means to her, we’re watching it from a distance. So how do we make that personal?

*Maybe she recognizes the shooter. *Maybe she’s terrified because her (age-appropriate) daughter is waiting in the car downstairs. *Maybe she promised herself she would never run again.

A few well-placed thoughts or reactions give the action weight. Now, don’t misunderstand me. You don’t want three paragraphs of introspection while bullets are flying, but you do want the reader inside the character so the reader feels like he or she is the one experiencing all of the excitement.

Emotion Without Action Can Stall the Story

The opposite can happen too.

Your character thinks. Remembers. Processes. Worries. Then thinks some more.

Um … okay. Kinda boring, right? Emotion matters. Especially when something significant has happened.

But eventually the character needs to do something because of what she feels.

*She confronts someone. *Leaves. *Lies. *Makes the call. *Deletes the message. *Makes a break for the car so she can get to her child.

Emotion becomes story when it affects behavior.

Information Needs Conflict

This is where scenes can really bog down if you’re not careful. Sometimes you have information the reader needs. It can be backstory, a clue, an explanation. Maybe details about an investigation.

So …

… two characters sit down and talk about it.

And talk about it.

And talk about it.

The information may be necessary, but that doesn’t mean the scene has to feel like a briefing.

Give the conversation another purpose. *Maybe one character is hiding something. *Maybe the person asking questions doesn’t trust the answers. *Maybe the information reveals something neither character expected.

Information works best when receiving it changes something.

Decide What the Scene Is Really About

Not every scene needs equal amounts of action, emotion, and information. This is where balance comes in.

A chase scene will lean heavily toward action.

A reconciliation may lean toward emotion.

An investigative scene may carry more information.

That’s fine.

The question is: What is this scene really about? Once you know that, let that element lead, then use the other two elements to support it. If the scene is about danger, emotion helps us care about the outcome. If it’s about heartbreak, action keeps the character from simply thinking on the page. If it’s about discovering a clue, conflict keeps the information from becoming an information dump.

There is no perfect formula, of course, but you don’t need one. You need movement, meaning, and purpose. So when a scene feels off, take another look. Is everyone moving but nobody feeling? Is everyone feeling but nobody acting? Is everyone explaining but nothing changing?

Sometimes the scene is “fine,” it just needs a little “more.” And sometimes that fix is figuring out which element the scene needs—and giving everything else just enough room to do its job.