On Tension
May. 26th, 2008 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgAs a non-fiction writer there are a lot of things I don't get to do. Characterisation (of the fictional variety) is one. I also don't get to manufacture tension, or manipulate the passage of time. However, that's hardly going to stop your average critic (or even me), and this caught my attention during one of the many let's-call-it-action scenes in the alleged medical thriller The Xeno Solution by Nelson Erlick.
Our hero has been chased, shot at (possibly actually shot by now, I can't recall and you could never tell from the text how damaged anyone was supposed to be), badly twisted an ankle, frozen, beaten, dragged underwater by a powerboat across a frozen bay, smashed into a pier and possibly blown up. I think bashed by flying timber at this point too, and he's lost his glasses. Maybe a papercut or two. Major damage, and that's before we get to this bit where he's freed the tangled rope tying him to the bad guy's speedboat.
He dove deeper, propelling himself with exhausted legs. Instead of resisting his strokes, the deep water slowly began dragging him away from the fire. Faster, further from shore. A minute. Two minutes. His body craved air, burned for it. (p.345)
What's wrong with this picture? Well, I don't know about you, but when I've taken a few hits and am struggling to escape my murderous enemies in icy water, time travels a bit more slowly than that. In fact, if I wanted to describe time going relatively quickly I'd do it like that.
One second. Two seconds. His body craved air, burned for it.
That makes sense to me, but "One minute. Two minutes." what's he hanging around for? That's a lot of heartbeats. That covers a pretty critical breathing interval for most people. That's a lot of action time (although granted, our hero's been keeping up the pace for several days by now). Boats are whizzing, things are burning, timber is flying, but no, time just moseys on at it's own comfortable pace.
Am I wrong? Validation sought.
Our hero has been chased, shot at (possibly actually shot by now, I can't recall and you could never tell from the text how damaged anyone was supposed to be), badly twisted an ankle, frozen, beaten, dragged underwater by a powerboat across a frozen bay, smashed into a pier and possibly blown up. I think bashed by flying timber at this point too, and he's lost his glasses. Maybe a papercut or two. Major damage, and that's before we get to this bit where he's freed the tangled rope tying him to the bad guy's speedboat.
He dove deeper, propelling himself with exhausted legs. Instead of resisting his strokes, the deep water slowly began dragging him away from the fire. Faster, further from shore. A minute. Two minutes. His body craved air, burned for it. (p.345)
What's wrong with this picture? Well, I don't know about you, but when I've taken a few hits and am struggling to escape my murderous enemies in icy water, time travels a bit more slowly than that. In fact, if I wanted to describe time going relatively quickly I'd do it like that.
One second. Two seconds. His body craved air, burned for it.
That makes sense to me, but "One minute. Two minutes." what's he hanging around for? That's a lot of heartbeats. That covers a pretty critical breathing interval for most people. That's a lot of action time (although granted, our hero's been keeping up the pace for several days by now). Boats are whizzing, things are burning, timber is flying, but no, time just moseys on at it's own comfortable pace.
Am I wrong? Validation sought.
