How multi-tasking in fiction creates confusion instead of efficiency
“Gil stretched his lips into a tight smile, lifting his right shoulder in a subtle shrug.”
I paused on this sentence during a coaching session recently. “What’s the order of how these two verbs happen?” I asked the writer.
“Oh, he’s doing them at the same time,” came the reply.
And there it was—a perfect example of what I call Simultaneity Syndrome: the tendency to cram multiple actions into single sentences, making characters perform like circus acts instead of believable human beings.
The Multitasking Myth
In real life, we like to think we multitask. We eat while checking email, talk while walking, think while driving. But when you’re writing fiction, simultaneity creates problems that efficiency can’t solve.
Consider this sentence from the same manuscript:
She sat down the 50-pound dumbbells and shook her arms and legs out before walking over to grab her mobile from where it rested atop her washing machine.
The writer packed four distinct actions into one breath:
- Setting down dumbbells
- Shaking out arms and legs
- Walking to the washing machine
- Grabbing the phone
The result? A sentence that feels rushed and a character who seems to teleport between actions.
Why Simultaneity Doesn’t Work
Problem 1: Chronological Confusion
When you write “He smiled, lifting his shoulder,” readers have to work to figure out the timing. Did the smile come first? Did they happen together? Does it matter?
Every moment of confusion pulls readers out of the story and into the mechanics of parsing your sentences.
Problem 2: Impossible Physics
Many simultaneous actions are simply implausible. Can you really smile genuinely while shrugging? Can you set down heavy weights while shaking out your limbs?
When writers force simultaneity, they often create physically awkward or impossible moments.
Problem 3: Lost Impact
When multiple actions compete for attention in the same sentence, none of them land with full force. The smile loses its impact when it’s competing with the shrug. The weight of those dumbbells disappears in the rush to the next action.
The Simple Solution: A-B Instead of A-While-B
The fix is remarkably straightforward: let things happen in sequence.
Instead of: He stretched his lips into a tight smile, lifting his right shoulder in a subtle shrug.
Try: He stretched his lips into a tight smile. He shrugged.
Instead of: She sat down the 50-pound dumbbells and shook her arms and legs out before walking over to grab her mobile.
Try: She dropped the 50-pound dumbbells, then shook out her arms and legs. She walked to her mobile on the washing machine and picked it up.
But Won’t That Feel Choppy?
This is the fear that drives simultaneity—writers worry that simple, sequential sentences will feel mechanical or childish. “She did this. She did that. She did another thing.”
Here’s the surprising truth: sequential actions feel more natural to readers, not less.
When you establish clear chronology, readers can easily construct the scene in their minds. They see the character move through space and time in a believable way. The reading experience becomes smoother, not choppier.
The Confidence Factor
There’s another benefit to sequential writing: it makes you appear more confident as a storyteller.
When you cram actions together, it often signals anxiety—anxiety that readers will get bored, that the pace is too slow, that you need to hurry through the less important moments to get to the “good stuff.”
But readers aren’t impatient with clear, well-paced action. They’re impatient with confusion.
Sequential writing says: “I trust you to follow this story step by step. I’m not going to rush you through it or force you to untangle complex action sequences.”
When Simultaneity Actually Works
There are rare occasions when simultaneity serves a purpose:
During high-stress action: In a chase scene or fight, overlapping actions can create urgency.
For characterization: A character who truly multitasks might be shown juggling phone calls while cooking, but this should be an intentional character choice, not a default writing habit.
In dialogue scenes: Characters can talk while doing other things, though even here, clear sequencing usually works better.
The Practical Exercise
Try this with your own writing:
- Find a paragraph with multiple actions
- Circle each verb
- Ask: “Can these actions realistically happen simultaneously?”
- Rewrite in clear sequence
- Read both versions aloud
You’ll often find the sequential version reads more smoothly and creates a clearer movie in your head.
Building Better Habits
Start paying attention to simultaneity in your first drafts. Look for:
- Sentences with multiple action verbs
- Participial phrases (-ing words) that create simultaneous action
- “While,” “as,” and “before” constructions that layer actions
- Any moment where you’re not sure what happened when
The Takeaway
Your characters don’t need to be efficiency experts. They can do one thing, then another thing, then a third thing. In fiction, sequential action isn’t slower—it’s clearer.
And clarity is always faster than confusion.
Next week, we’ll explore how this principle of sequential action builds into something even more powerful: The Chronology Principle, and why step-by-step storytelling creates unshakeable reader trust.
What’s your experience with staying in scene versus telling? Have you noticed how it affects your enjoyment of the writing process?
If you want more of my teaching on Scene and “Show, Don’t Tell,” check out my course here: https://writewithseth.com/show-dont-tell/
