Get the File: Dramatizing a Scene, Part 1

Imagine a woman enters an office building. 

I’ve written several entries about the writing life. I’ve been looking at things from a certain perspective, a wide perspective, maybe even one in soft focus and a bit airy. For a swift change of perspective, let’s swoop down to the ground, to the level of a scene, where life is immediate and in sharp focus.

So here’s a scene.

It’s rough. It’s undefined. Let’s start with a hero and a goal.

A woman parks her car. She crosses the parking lot toward a brown one-story building in a suburban office park. The building is a modest law firm. 

Our hero, Holly, wants a file. It’s not her file. Holly’s not supposed to be able to get this file, but she needs it. Invent a reason. Maybe it’s for a friend or adversary, a family member or shady company. Whatever the reason, she needs that file. That’s her goal.

Holly’s in the waiting area. She’s feeling nervous. She’s never done something like this. She’s never had to pretend to be someone else and lie about why she needs a file, a file that’s not hers. Finally, she’s called into one of the back offices to see the lawyer who has the file. 

The lawyer is named Andrea, and Andrea is the antagonist in this scene. Holly and Andrea go head to head here. The hero faces the antagonist, or at least the antagonist for this scene. 

Holly opts for a strategy of gentle persuasion. It’s the way she is. She’s the type of person who says please and thank you. So Holly says, “Please.”

Andrea’s a lawyer. She doesn’t respond to please. She declines to give up the file. 

Okay, so Holly uses logic—lawyers like logic—and explains her reasons for needing the file. 

Andrea deflects and changes the topic. 

Holly explains the urgency of the matter. 

Andrea . . . relents and gives her the file. 

Holly reads the file, thanks Andrea, and walks out to her car. 

End of scene.

This is a simple scene, but it’s good practice to imagine the world of a simple scene and think it through to explore some options and make it better.

And by “make it better,” I mean make it dramatic.

So far, it’s not a great scene, and it’s easy to see why. The hero got what she wanted too easily. She asked for a file, and the lawyer gave it to her.

Boring.

We could’ve skipped this scene altogether. 

If the story is about the hero changing, and a hero doesn’t change in a scene, then the scene might not have a function.

So why is the scene boring? The simple answer is that we don’t learn anything about the hero. 

When a task is easily completed, we don’t learn anything specific about the person performing that task. 

Take a line of people at a taco truck. It’s not exactly a riveting drama to watch people stand in line, order, pay, wait, and eat. When everybody follows the rules of a transaction, the dynamic lapses into the generic. And you think, “Yeah, okay. Tacos. So, like, why am I watching this?” Exactly. 

If something’s too easy, you don’t know why you should be paying attention.

When something is difficult, however, we learn how badly the hero wants that thing. The hero goes to great lengths to get it. We learn how strong their desire is and what that desire is compelling the hero to do (preferably something they are not used to doing or have never done, something that tests their willingness to adapt and change).

The hero acts beyond her comfort zone, tests the limits of her nature, faces her fears, takes risks, breaks rules, and stands up for herself in ways she hasn’t done previously in the story. When things are difficult, the hero has to act in new ways to get what she wants, and so we learn something new about this hero. The hero also learns something new about herself. 

In some cases, the hero does things we, in our normal lives, may dream of doing but dare not do. 

For this to become a dramatic scene, our hero must make a hard choice, take action, and pay a price to get that file and thus earn the right to move forward in the story.

One thing we learn—or just kind of feel—in this initial boring scene is that whatever information is in the file seems to be no big deal. The antagonist just hands over the file. If the information in the file is no big deal, then why does Holly want the file? 

What’s at stake? Maybe nothing. And that’s bad for drama, like, book-closing bad, click-to-the-next-movie-in-the-queue bad.

If the information in the file is important, maybe the antagonist doesn’t know that. That’s why Andrea hands it over. She doesn’t know. 

However, a better antagonist would sense, from how badly the hero wants the file, that there must be something important in the file, so the antagonist would likely withhold the file from the hero simply because of that suspicion. 

I mean, they’re the antagonist. Standing between the hero and the hero’s goal is what they do. It’s their function.

Let’s back up and try again.

Holly enters the scene hopeful she’ll get the file but still nervous, because she’s never done something like this.

Despite her many strategies, escalating from gentle persuasion to veiled threat, Holly fails to get the file from Andrea. Andrea is now suspicious of Holly and grills her about her motives. 

Andrea’s intimidating. 

Holly gives up. She’s never going to get that file. She turns to leave the office.

Holly stops before exiting the door of Andrea’s office. She can’t leave. She needs that file. She finds her courage. She is determined to push on. 

Holly turns and does something she’s never done. She makes an explicit threat.

Andrea, a lawyer after all and used to this sort of thing, laughs it off. 

Holly is truly disheartened. She doesn’t know what else to do.

Andrea wins this encounter.

Holly leaves the room without the file.

What does Holly do now? The scene can’t end here. She needs that file.

As she walks down the hallway, Holly searches right and left for a place to hide. She finds a conference room and ducks into it and . . . waits.

Holly composes herself. She processes what she’s just experienced. Holly’s never done anything like this, so she can’t just suddenly act tough and ruthless. It wouldn’t be credible. She needs time to make this transition to a new self, one who’s willing to go farther than she expected when she first arrived at the law firm. 

Note that I didn’t have Holly go out to her car and sit and stew. There’s no drama there. She’s safe in her car. But hiding in a room in the law firm? That’s still tense because someone could find her, which could end her attempt to get the file.

So, hiding in a conference room, Holly doesn’t know what to do next, but she’s going to wait until she has another chance to get that file. She isn’t going to ask for it. Maybe she’s just going to steal it.

How long will Holly wait for a chance to steal the file? What if she has to use the restroom? What if someone finds her? What if she waits until late at night, when everyone has left? Yes, that sounds like a strategy she can pull off. It’s sneaky, but she won’t have to confront anyone. That sounds like a Holly-type strategy, credible for this moment.

But won’t Holly’s car still be in the parking lot? 

And so what if on the way out of the office at night, Andrea notices this last car and becomes suspicious? Is that strange woman from earlier in the day still inside the office? Andrea turns away from her own car and looks back at the law firm. In closeup, we see, in the harsh light of a lamppost, Andrea scowling.

Uh-oh.

Sometimes these practical worries give you, the writer, some good ideas for creating additional dramatic moments. 

Okay, let’s go back to Holly hiding in, say, a conference room. Maybe Holly sneaks out to pee and has to hurry back without being seen and, in so doing, winds up in another type of room, maybe smaller, like a supply closet, with a worse place to hide. If Holly has to suffer a cut, a bruise, or an indignity, that would count as a price the hero has to pay to keep going. 

Maybe someone enters the supply closet in which she’s hiding, and Holly has to crouch behind a shelving unit and hold her breath and pray she isn’t discovered. This seems like a stock scene, and you don’t want to succumb to stock scenes. So you’ll have to figure something out, probably something that fits your genre. 

If she sneaks out to pee, this could be a more lighthearted drama or even a comedy. If she sneaks out to move her car to another parking lot and then sneaks back into the office, this could still be a thriller. 

Let’s keep going as if this is a drama or thriller.

So it’s dark. It’s late. Everyone is gone, even the cleaning crew. Holly can’t be sure she’s alone, so she has to sneak out and do some recon around the office.

What’s the worst thing she could find?

A light on.

A light on in Andrea’s office.

Of all the people to stay and work late, it had to be the antagonist.

Crap (for the hero). But awesome (for our drama).

And the antagonist being the only one in the whole building to stay late is something our hero would find suspicious. Maybe this antagonist is shadier than we thought.

Okay, so maybe Holly hides in the shadows and watches, either waiting for Andrea to leave her office temporarily (so Holly can sneak in quickly and nab the file) or permanently for the night (so Holly can take time locating the file). 

Well, that’s pretty boring. We just wait? 

Yeah, waiting is a passive strategy. Our hero isn’t active and isn’t risking anything, and so it’s not very dramatic. What would be better drama is if our hero, under pressure to get that file now, forces a confrontation. 

Forcing a confrontation is the kind of decision a hero makes where you’re like, “No, don’t do it!” If you feel that nervousness in your gut about making your hero act in a way you never would, that’s probably a good sign you’re cranking up the drama.

Notice you have two ways to go here. Okay, you have at least two ways to go here. You could have Andrea notice Holly’s car in the lot, return to the firm, and hunt for Holly. That’s tense, and Holly would be reactive. The confrontation would be under way because Andrea forced it.

Or you can have Andrea working late, and Holly’s car is still in the lot. Now, Holly still has a chance to be active and make a tough decision in which she forces the confrontation.

So we’re in the second situation. Andrea is working late. Holly needs that file. She can’t wait forever.

Why would Holly risk a confrontation? Maybe she’s just fed up and ready to go for it. Or maybe Holly gets an urgent text telling her she needs to get that file. Bad things will happen if she doesn’t get that file. Holly is reminded of what’s at stake. 

You’ll understand at this point why sometimes a writer will drop in a deadline or ticking clock for the performance of some task. It’s an excuse for forcing the hero to take action in a certain time frame.

So Holly can’t wait any longer. It’s now or never.

Holly walks into the room and startles Andrea, who threatens to call security. Our hero and the antagonist face each other, alone at night in the office. 

How far will Holly go to get that file? Will Andrea back off in the suspicion that Holly is crazy? Have all social niceties been dropped to reveal their true motives? Will Andrea call the cops? Having the cops on her trail would definitely be a price Holly would have to pay for getting that file. 

At this point, how you, as a writer, conclude this scene depends on what the next scene is. If you can’t introduce the cops yet, because that would throw off your storyline, you may have to stop and think about a cool way for the hero to get the file without bringing in the cops. 

If Andrea is an antagonist for the whole story and not just this scene, then maybe Andrea is bluffing. Maybe she doesn’t want the cops involved anymore than Holly does. But that means our hero may have to fight for real to get that file.

Fight scene!

Fighting is really not a Holly-type strategy. She has gone further than she ever thought she would. She’s gone from saying please and thank you to swatting Andrea with a casebook on civil procedure.

And when Holly, scratched and bleeding, runs out of the building and into the parking lot, she finds her car’s been towed. 

Shit (she thinks). Oh, no (we think).

Now what?

Well, now we’re catapulted into the next scene. Our hero has a new problem. 

Holly’s stolen the file. Andrea knows Holly’s the thief and is likely alerting other bad guys. How will Holly get away without her car? Is Andrea about to chase her, or are some new bad guys on the way? Are new bad guys on the way to Holly’s house to intercept her there?

However you resolve this scene, it’ll be more exciting than the one in which our hero simply asks for the file, gets it, and on the drive home stops for tacos at a food truck.

_____