"Wouldn't it be terrible if Bob was sitting on the other side of that screen? Hearing everything we've been saying?" No sooner had the words left her lips, than Bob put his head over the screen, wearing a facial expression not seen since the Old Testament. ===== In my current WIP, I'm finding a tension between economy and scenes seeming natural. And this is one of those things, isn't it, where we ask "Do we want scenes to get to the point efficiently, or do we want the scene to feel plausible to the reader?" and the answer is "Yes." Some of the approaches I've tried have been to:- - force naturalism, and have characters enter scenes when they enter them, interrupting the narrator - add in a vaguely-timed line as a cushion before the character arrives (e.g. "they sat around for a while until Bob showed up") - try and earn enough descriptive brownie points at the start of the scene that the reader might let me get away with it this time - blur the story beat so that the "how terrible it would be if Bob arrived" is pushed forward as foreshadowing and Bob arriving and the conflict starting is gradual rather than sudden (= increasing show vs. tell) - put a scene break in without changing scene - remove the intended story beat if my execution of it is too artificial But how do others approach this?
Could be like this: "Wouldn't it be terrible if Bob was sitting on the other side of that screen? Hearing everything we've been saying?" Both turned half-expectantly toward the screen. Their sheepish smiles dropped and their glances met in stunned realization. There was indeed a human silhouette. It stood ponderously, stepped closer, and the head rose above the screen to confront them. "Oh god!" Benedictus barked in nervous relief. "Ephraim–I thought sure you were Bob!" But the staring eyes didn't relax, they bore into his own with the intensity of a Biblical prophet. "Bob is my best friend and half brother, and saved my life three times in the last two wars. He will hear about this." So set up, reversal, counter-reversal.
Or it's not Bob, they all share a nice tension-breaking laugh, and then notice the vaguely Bob-shaped shadow standing in a dim corner. Ok, getting too tricky and still awfully convenient.
I think it depends on the context, which is hard to glean from this snippet. In this case, it appears two speakers are discussing a topic that they hope Bob never learns about. I think there are two approaches to this: Bob already knows, or at least has an idea of what is going on, and puts himself in a position behind the screen seeking confirmation. That gives the reader the context before Bob does his biblical jack-in-the-box trick. Bob is behind the screen accidentally and learns something he had no idea of at all. Totally blindsided, he pops up over the screen to confront the speakers. That will set the stage for any follow-on actions that Bob or the speakers take. Which approach you take, will, in my opinion, depend on where you are in your story and how much the readers know about the situation that poor ole Bob is still clueless about right up until this scene.
Bob heard the two of them enter the room. "Wouldn't it be terrible if Bob were setting behind the screen listening to everything we say?" said the short, fat one. The other one laughed, and they proceeded to discuss their master plan. "Surprise!" said Bob, as he popped out from behind the screen. In other words, establish that Bob is there at the start of the scene. That way, it doesn't seem contrived that he just happens to be there to overhear them.
Thanks for posting this. It's a good reminder that we should strive to avoid anything that might pull our readers out of the story or minimize their presence -- authorial intrusions, a Deus ex machina and so forth.
I believe this is a debate in literature as old as the colour debate in visual art. Service to narrative vs service to immersion. I can mostly detail the romantic movement's answer to it, which is what I'm invested in. The romantic movement (and in a degree the subsequent realist movement too) deconstructed scenes and subjected them to the whims of the narrative / economy to a firm degree. The most radical in this was Brecht whose Verfremdungseffekt actively sought to break immersion through events you described in order to keep comprehension of literary qualities to the conscious plane. Routing back to literature, there's some classics that provide good examples for the romantic handling of this: Dracula & War and Peace represent two fine examples. Dracula's scene economy is radical in the sense that often you'll have the feeling that the author exhausted the scene's narrative purpose and at that point the scene ceases and switches to the next. Obviously, this makes the book a harder read but at the same time, narrative flows quicker & tension is higher. War and Peace deals with what I'd call "convenience of appearance" in the sense that wherever a new character is introduced whose role matches that of an existing character, the existing character is inserted instead. I /think/ Victor Hugo was doing the same, but I wouldn't write judgement based on Russel Crowe's & Borat's singing - which is my only window into his work. For Tolstoy this creates a "smaller than it seems" world where everyone and everything is inter-connected. It creates easier investment in characters and more conflict, but also seems highly unrealistic: What is the chance that from the tens of thousands wounded at Borodino, two of the main characters end up in the infirmary right next to each other, specifically two who had carried animosity in the past but can now reconcile? Same with Petya ending up in Dolokhov's cossack regiment. What's the chance of a wounded protagonist being found by Napoleon himself on the battlefield? By now you might feel I'm 100% in favour of service to narrative. Of course, don't make it extremely blatant - the scenario Xoic described works quite well.
One thing I might give a try in this situation is to organically work in some stuff about how Bob sometimes enjoys sitting behind screens for reasons. Maybe to clean his old WW2 bayonet collection in peace. And I'll try to work this in at least three chapters earlier, if not at Bob's first introduction. Then, I'd see if playing out your scene as follows works. "You know, I'm secretly sleeping with Bob's wife," Harry said proudly. "Dude! Shut up." He nodded at the screen next to them. (Maybe even leave this out.) The screen ripped under the pressure of a freshly oiled bayonet and Harry's heart sank when his eyes met Bob's. Depending on the kind of story you're writing, you can now elaborate how Bob expertly disassembles Harry, which, if given enough attention to detail, will make the reader gloss over how Bob was conveniently there. That, or go all Douglas Adams. A good Infinite Improbability Drive never hurt anyone. For long.
There's nothing wrong with a character appearing in the middle of a scene after overhearing part of a conversation. This happens in both drama and comedy all the time.
The thing you have to consider is, does Bob have a reason in his own world to be behind that screen (as @Bakkerbaard mentions), or is he there simply for the convenience of the author? If the reader is aware of his screen-sitting habit, that increases the tension and irony as the other two natter away.
I would use humor. The good thing about humor is it can cover the machinations of the writer because the reader will enjoy the laugh forgetting it's also part of the plot.
I feel the way it’s written is very contrived. I don’t think the characters should be talking about how bad it would be, I think you the narrator should be doing that. And again, not explicitly. The scene should just be laid out so that everyone knows it’d be bad if one character heard. a la: Hans and Lando joked like old pals as C-3PO mused: “wouldn’t it be terrible if Darth Vader were here.” Then the door open, and Darth Vader was there! Duh duh duhhhhh It’d be terrible. We know Vader is the bad guy, he needs no lead up. His sudden introduction is what makes the scene. Similarly, we should just already know that Bob isn’t good, so revealing he’s listening should be self contained.
I should have just said that, but I don't do 'to the point'. There used to be this point & click adventure game called Lure Of The Temptress, way back when you needed to physically go out for a hintbook. That's how old I am. It boasted something called 'virtual theatre', which was special back then. When a character goes off screen it didn't cease to exist. It went about it's own business (which, to be fair, in those days was just standing until they were needed again). That's what Bob is doing. Bob is going about his business and you'll just have to hope Bob's business takes him to sitting behind the screen when you need him there. Always ask why.
