by Tiffany Lawson Inman
Going through life, we are always in a state of suspense. Mmmmm…yummy, suspense! According to Oxford dictionary: a state or feeling of excited or anxious uncertainty about what may happen.
Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?
Life moments creating dramatic impact, small and large.
What will happen next? Is the question on a second to second, minute to minute, day to day loop in our human brain.
I watched my husband play with our baby yesterday. There was a lot of giggling going on, so I tore myself away from the computer to see what was happening. She was on the floor and my hubby was sitting at her feet as if she was getting her diaper changed. Hubby would lift one of her feet and slowly bend over with an open mouth, going in to nibble on her tootsies , but before he got his chompers on her foot, he would put the first foot down and start slowly going for the other foot and so on.
So, why was she giggling if he wasn’t actually biting her foot? Because she didn’t know he wasn’t going to bite. She was prepared for something to happen, but she didn’t know exactly what. She was watching her little story unfold from moment to moment and the anticipation was making her react. The anticipation was making her sit forward in her baby brain and pay very close attention to what was going to happen next, each second of foot-biting-drama bringing her closer to a the climax.
This is what we live for, the tasty moments surrounding authentic action and reaction.
What will happen next? Is also what drives readers through a novel. You may not realize it, but suspense flows through ALL GENRES of fiction. There are small and large levels of suspense in every novel.
- Small - Your reader goes from one line to the next wondering how your character will react to what is happening.
- Medium – Your reader moves from one scene to the next wondering how your character will handle the conflict and disaster, what conflict will be next, and will the character reach their goals with morals intact, with their lives?
Sounds easy, right? I mean there are plenty of books on the subject. I’m sure you have read them ALL. Those craft books refer to it as cause/effect, stimulus/response, motivation/reaction, action/reaction or scene/sequel. Writers should just be able to pick up a copy of Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of a Selling Writer, read it and, POOF! The most compelling fiction on the market will flow into the laptop with a wiggle of your nose.
But it’s not that easy, is it? Just because a writer knows this pattern exists doesn’t mean they know how important it is in their fiction. And knowing about a key element in fiction certainly doesn’t mean every writer knows how to apply it.
Jack Bickham states in his book, Scene and Structure:
“…you can mess up stimulus-response transactions in three ways:
- You can show a stimulus and then show no external response (or perhaps one that doesn’t fit or doesn’t make sense);
- You can show a character response when no stimulus (or no credible one) for it has shown; or
- You can put so much story time between stimulus and response that the logical relationship between events is no longer evident.”
So, what happens to your reader’s suspense when one or three of the above issues are implemented in your novel? It turns into frustration, confusion, or distrust for the author to provide the story in a compelling way. Why would anyone want to read in that frame of mind?
Authors aren’t the only writers paying attention to cause and effect. Playwrights and screenwriters live and breathe motivation and reaction. Why? Because if the audience sees an action that should affect a character and that character doesn’t react, then the story will cease to move forward until a reaction happens. The audience sticks on why there wasn’t a reaction and will then believe the story to be inauthentic, characters not as real, and mentally they will hit the speed bump and check out.
My point? Stimulation/response is a KEY ELEMENT IN FICTION.
Here is an example of compelling, well written, stimulus/response excerpt from #1 NYT bestselling author, Harlan Coben, in his novel, Six Years. For the first nine chapters of this story, the main character has been wondering to the point of obsession, the whereabouts of an ex-girlfriend. The love of his life. The reader’s state of suspense has been growing steadily with each new chunk of twisted mystery thrown in his path. And then this happens:
Then I saw the sender’s e-mail address:
RSbyJA@ymail.com
I stared at it until my eyes watered. There was a rushing in my ears. Everything around me was silent and too still. I kept staring but the letters didn’t change.
RSbyJA.
It took me no time to see what those letters meant: Redemption’s Son by Joseph Arthur—the album Natalie and I listened to in the café.
The subject was empty. My hand found the mouse. I tried to get the cursor over the e-mail so I could open it, but first I had to control my shake. I took a deep breath and willed my hand still. The room remained a hushed quiet, almost expectantly so. I moved the cursor over the e-mail and clicked on it.
The e-mail stopped my heart.
There, on my screen, were four words. That was all, just four words, but those four words sliced through my chest like a reaper’s scythe, making it nearly impossible to breathe. I collapsed back on the chair, lost, as the four words on the screen stared back at me:
You made a promise.
****
PRIME example of amplified stimulus/response. Obviously this is an emotional point in the story. Thick emotional reaction to a sliver of very sharp stimulus.
What did Harlan do to make it apparent to the reader that this was a BIG deal? He showed each facet of his character’s response.
What does that do for the reader? Their eyes fly over the words, taking in the full picture, reveling in the dramatic impact of what is happening and almost salivating to find out…what happens next.
Keeping in mind this character’s emotional investment in finding out where his ex-girlfriend is throughout the first 9 chapters, what if Harlan wrote this instead:
Then I saw the sender’s e-mail address:
RSbyJA@ymail.com
It took me no time to see what those letters meant: Redemption’s Son by Joseph Arthur—the album Natalie and I listened to in the café.
I moved the cursor over the e-mail and clicked on it.
The email read: You made a promise.
****
This is an example of showing a stimulus and then showing no external response. Skipping it all together. Not a good thing. Harlan’s readers would be screaming, “What just happened? Did Jake hit his head before he read this? An email, from her?! He should be going crazy right now! Man, I’m confused.”
Now, while I’m editing and teaching, more often than not, the issues I see getting in the way of reader suspense have to do with number three on Bickham’s list: “You can put so much story time between stimulus and response that the logical relationship between events is no longer evident.”
What if Harlan wrote it like this:
Then I saw the sender’s e-mail address:
RSbyJA@ymail.com
It took me no time to see what those letters meant: Redemption’s Son by Joseph Arthur—the album Natalie and I listened to in the café.
The café where we first met. She was showing some of her art and sat in the corner with sunglasses on. I thought that was really a pretentious way to sit in a café, especially when it was dark outside. But then hours later we sat in the corner table talking, laughing, eating Cookie’s famous scones and listening to music. Redemption’s Son was the one album that pushed us deeper into each other’s lives. I think the scones almost tasted better after we listened to that album. And then there they were, those letters. The abbreviation I wrote on the napkin to remember the name of the album, RSbyJA. She thought it was cute that I wanted to remember it.
I stared at the screen until my eyes watered. There was a rushing in my ears. Everything around me was silent and too still. I kept staring but the letters didn’t change.
****
Ack! His reaction doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Getting pulled into the mini-story about the café, the reader is forced to imagine different scenarios, forced to try and connect emotionally to another part of the story. And when we finally get back to the response, the words have lost all dramatic impact.
As Swain says in Chapter Three of Techniques of The Selling Writer, “When you start to sneeze, you snatch for your handkerchief right now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. The same way, think of each stimulus your focal character receives as a demand for immediate action. “
Thinking back to my hubby and baby playing “anticipate the foot munch.” What would she have done if he picked up her foot leaned in for a nibble and then started a conversation with me. Her game would have been over. The anticipation for her daddy’s next move would have vanished.
Disappointed baby.
When a writer commits that kind of crime in their novel, the same thing happens. Inauthentic drama. Your reader will stop wondering what happens next, and they will stop reading.
Disappointed reader.
Don’t let this happen to you!
One of my biggest pet peeves as an editor is the backwards stimulation response, “I turned my head toward the yard when my brother started screaming.” And the simultaneous stimulation response, “Margo laughed as I started to take off my shirt.” Annoying, isn’t it?
I want to thank all the writers at WITS for letting me jump on every month (sometimes twice a month) to blast you with some fiction know-how. I love teaching, and this is a way I get to do a mini-mini-lesson and be social with all of you! Toss me a Hello in the comments.
And no, I didn’t forget! Here is your mini-challenge for this post: Can you think of a backwards or simultaneous stimulation response that you have read lately? Maybe one you found in your own WIP? EEK! Show it to us! How did you fix it?
I’ll draw a name from the comments and the winner gets a free slot in one of my upcoming courses: January’s Action and Fighting in Fiction: Writing Authentic Choreography With Precision and Bite or December’s Madness to Method: Using Acting Techniques to Invigorate Your Writing and Make Each Moment Oscar Worthy.
About Tiffany

Tiffany Lawson Inman (@NakedEditor) claimed a higher education at Columbia College Chicago. There, she learned to use body and mind together for action scenes, character emotion, and dramatic story development.
She teaches Action, Choreography, Emotional Impact, Violence, and Dialogue for Lawson Writer’s Academy, presents hands-on-action workshops, and will be offering webinars in 2014. As a freelance editor, she provides deep story analysis and dramatic fiction editing services. Stay tuned to WITS to see Tiffany’s upcoming guest blogs, classes, contests, and lecture packets.
Get caught up here and read her most recent WITS blog posts: Emotional Barrier in Fiction: Why is it so important for you to learn how to cross it? (Part One) and Emotional Barrier in Fiction: After You Cross It, What’s Next? (Part Two)









