A Lesson from the World of Acting
Good storytelling, like good acting, isn’t about certainty. It’s about trusting yourself to take the uncertain path of discovery.
Actors and Anticipation
Sometimes it’s easier to see things clearly from a slight distance. As the saying goes, “Whoever discovered water, it wasn’t a fish.”
In that spirit, here’s an observation from the world of acting.
Actors often think their primary task in preparing a scene is to gear themselves up to deliver a big ending for the scene. Which they do by focusing on finding a personal connection to every possible reason the character could have for making their final choice. Unfortunately, much acting training, with its emphasis on actions and motivations, implicitly endorses this view.
But this leads to what I call “Let’s Put on a Show” acting, where everything is upfront and projected out. Great for musicals and stage work, where you need to reach the back of the gods. Not so good for screen acting, where the camera is a couple of feet away, and catching every tiny twitch.
The trouble with this approach is that it encourages anticipation—playing the end of the scene from the very beginning. Because the actor enters the scene focused on the end, the scene starts where it ends and proceeds in a straight line to the same point.
No psychological movement. No emotional variation. No surprises. No moments of real choice.
Instead, we get emotional porn. Tears without movement. “Tearing a passion to tatters,” as WS put it.
It’s far better if the actor:
· Identifies the alternative things the character wanted to do in the scene, but chose not to.
· Chooses the alternative they personally find most convincing
· Prepares all the strong personal reasons for acting on that alternative choice.
· Comes into the scene with that objective, and those motivations.
· Then, and only then, discovers the reason for changing their mind within the scene.
That’s the best way I know to avoid anticipation and give the scene real shape—with real stakes.
The trap for writers
Writers fall into the same trap. They know where they want the scene to land, and they latch onto it too early. Rather than earn their ending, they jump straight to it, and everything before it becomes an illustration rather than a discovery.
It’s tempting to lock onto your destination and identify so strongly with it that you overlook the paths not taken. After all, it probably matches your personal values and emotional preferences. But when you do that, everything flattens out.
The audience isn’t discovering anything new because you’re not discovering anything new.
To avoid that, consciously explore all the things your character could do. And wants to do. Let those alternatives feed your imagination. Find ways to connect with them. Let them energise the characters from the beginning of the scene.
And especially, avoid self-censorship, and writing for the approval of your peer group.
If you can give those unwritten options real, vibrant life in the scene, your characters won’t drift gently from one side of the pond to the other. They’ll be pulled into the rapids, working desperately to dodge the rocks along the way.
Wrap up
Understand the path the character did not take – and its allure.
Then, and only then, find the path that earns the ending. Not because you aimed for it from the beginning, but because the characters’ needs demanded it.
