Why your biggest moments deserve your slowest writing
“She emptied her magazine into him.”
I paused on this sentence during a recent coaching session. Here was the climactic moment of an intense action scene—a police officer in a shootout, firing seventeen bullets to save her life—and it got less than half a sentence on the page.
“How many bullets is that?” I asked the writer.
“About seventeen,” he replied.
“So she fires seventeen bullets and that gets a third of a sentence. Are you crazy?”
This is where I introduced him to what Lee Child calls the cardinal rule of action writing: Make the fast stuff slow and the slow stuff fast.
The Instinct That Kills Action Scenes
Most writers have the same instinct when they reach exciting moments: speed up. Get through the action quickly. Don’t bog readers down with too much detail during the “exciting parts.”
This instinct is completely wrong.
Think about it from the reader’s perspective. They’ve been building toward this moment for pages, maybe chapters. The tension has been mounting. And then—wham—it’s over in a flash of summary before they can even process what happened.
It’s like spending an hour climbing a mountain only to be told, “Oh, and then there was an amazing view at the top. Anyway, here’s the way down.”
What Fast Really Means
When we say “make the fast stuff slow,” we’re not talking about the speed at which you write. We’re talking about the relationship between story time and text time.
In real life, a car crash happens in seconds. A fight might last thirty seconds. But for the people experiencing these moments, time often seems to stretch. They notice details with hyper-clarity. They see things in slow motion.
Your job as a writer is to recreate that experience on the page.
The Power of Dilation
Instead of summarizing action, you want to dilate it—expand a brief moment in story time across multiple sentences or paragraphs of text time.
Here’s what the writer originally had for his car crash scene:
She raced herself, crashed over the sidewalk and into the van, and then rammed into the van again, and then her engine died.
Two separate collisions, plus engine failure, in one breathless sentence.
Here’s what it could look like with proper dilation:
She aimed for the van’s rear quarter panel. Her patrol car jumped the curb and caught air for the briefest of moments. Then it hit the sidewalk with a suspension jarring bump. The impact threw her against her seatbelt. Glass exploded across the hood as her bumper connected with the van’s side panel. The other vehicle bounced off her car and slid into a light pole.
Max kept her foot down. She reversed, tires spinning on broken glass, and rammed the van again. Harder this time. Metal screamed against metal. Steam began rising from her radiator.
Everything came to a halt and Max was swallowed in profound quiet.
Now the reader experiences the crash instead of just being told it happened.
Why This Actually Speeds Up Reading
Here’s the paradox: when you slow down story time, you often speed up reading time.
Detailed action gives readers concrete images to process. Their brains can easily construct the visual sequence. The writing flows because it matches how we naturally process intense experiences.
And it’s exciting!
Summary action forces readers to fill in gaps with their imagination. They have to work harder to visualize what’s happening, which actually slows down their reading experience.
The Superpower Effect
When you dilate action scenes properly, something else happens: your characters appear more competent and in control.
Think about how Lee Child writes Jack Reacher fight scenes. Reacher doesn’t just “beat up the bad guys.” Child shows us Reacher noticing the first attacker’s stance, recognizing the tells that indicate where the punch will come from, stepping aside, and delivering a precise counterstrike.
The detailed breakdown makes Reacher seem superhuman—not because he has superpowers, but because he can process and react to information that quickly.
The same principle applies to your characters. When your police officer notices specific details during a gunfight, when she can track multiple threats and make precise decisions under pressure, she seems more skilled, more professional, more heroic. It makes a version of seeing the world we—as readers—want! That’s what we want to see.
So show us!
Practical Application: The Scene Hierarchy
Not every action needs the same treatment. Use this hierarchy:
Major action (dilate heavily):
- Climactic fights
- Car crashes
- Life-or-death moments
- Character-defining actions
Medium action (moderate dilation):
- Getting from place to place during tension
- Minor conflicts
- Physical reactions to stress
Minor action (scene speed or faster – OK to summarize):
- Routine movements
- Transitions between important moments
- Background activity
The Technical How-To
When you reach a moment that deserves dilation:
- Break it into micro-moments: Instead of “she shot him,” think: she aimed, she squeezed the trigger, the gun kicked in her hands, the bullet hit its target, he staggered backward.
- Add sensory details: What does she hear? See? Feel? Smell?
- Show physical reactions: How does her body respond to the adrenaline and action?
- Use short, punchy sentences: They create urgency while slowing down time.
- Include brief character thoughts: What split-second decisions is she making?
The Reader Contract
When you dilate action properly, you’re honoring an implicit contract with your readers. You’re saying: “This moment matters. This is worth your attention. Let me show you exactly how impressive/terrifying/crucial this really is.”
Readers reward this attention to significant moments with deeper engagement. They feel more present in the scene, more connected to the character, more invested in the outcome.
Start Recognizing Your Rush Zones
Look at your own action scenes and ask:
- Where am I cramming multiple significant actions into single sentences?
- Which moments have I been building toward that I’m rushing through?
- Where could I let my character’s expertise or quick thinking shine through detailed action?
The moments you’re most tempted to summarize are probably the moments that most deserve expansion.
The Bottom Line
Fast action in real life should become slow action on the page. Give your big moments the space they deserve. Let readers experience the crash, feel the gunshot, live through the fight.
Your most intense scenes shouldn’t be the ones you rush through—they should be the ones you savor.
When everything happens in a blur, slow down and show us the blur. Want to learn more about this in my self-paced class? Click here.
Or, book a time to meet with me and talk about coaching.
Note: This post pairs well with my post on Building Reader Capital. Give it a read next, if you haven’t already. (Or go back and try it again!)
