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writingwithfolklore · 8 months

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Scene Transitions

Transitioning between scenes is something that you’ll have to do a lot. A good scene transition blends seamlessly into the next so we hardly notice it occurring—or it stands out in order to heighten an emotional impact.

I remember teachers saying, “transitions should blend seamlessly” to me in school without ever explaining how to do that, or what it looks like. The good news is, you’ve probably read so many books and consumed so much media that you’re already subconsciously transitioning your scenes. If you’re struggling, though, here’s what to watch out for:

1. The emotion ends off and begins at the same place.

This isn’t necessarily a hard rule, but it certainly helps maintain a sort of flow to the work, and asks a lot less from your readers than putting them through an emotional rollercoaster. This counts whether it’s transitioning from the same POV or different ones.

For example, if your character is being chased by the police and the scene cuts off without knowing what happens to them, the next scene needs to begin in this heightened sense of urgency and anxiety.

However, if your character is being chased by police and dives unnoticed into their hideout, the next scene should begin within this sense of relief. From here, you can take it wherever you want—just maintain a consistency between chapter cuts, POVs, or other time/place skips.

2. Finish what you start

Unless you’re intentionally keeping the audience in the dark about something (which would require at least some acknowledgement that there are answers, they just aren’t being revealed), you should finish what one scene starts.

Say your previous chapter ends off with the character finally reaching the end of the line for the super scary haunted house attraction. The next should probably begin with them getting to enter the house. If it begins the next day, we’ll be so caught up in the missing time and the obvious lack of answers surrounding the haunted house it’ll take us completely out of the scene and make a notable cut.

An example of a story that does this notable cut really well is ‘A Face Like Glass’ by Frances Hardinge, in which nearing the end, Hardinge inserts a page that playfully acknowledges the complete jump in time and space without revealing anything to the readers about why it’s there, leaving them to discover later on what occurred in that space.

I wish I could quote it exactly but I don’t have the book with me. If anyone does, please reblog this with the page! You’ll know the one I’m talking about.

3. Keep it the same

Don’t switch to a new POV in the middle of the story when you’ve never seen it before unless intentionally making a point. Do transition your scenes however you’d like, but maintain consistency throughout the story. That way, if you ever need to make a point, you can break all the rules you’ve followed to really hammer home the impact.

Good luck!

#writing #writers #writing tips #writing advice #writing inspiration #creative writing #writing community #books #film #filmmaking #screenwriting #novel writing #fanfiction #writeblr #scene transitions #transitioning between scenes

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arcanegifs · 15 days

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ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: Season 1 ↳ "Oh, the misery."

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daikunart · 3 months

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#The transition /fading during Henry's smug smile is a crime against humanity #GIVE ME THE FULL SCENE FUCK TOUR EIFFEL!!#Red white and royal blue #Firstprince #Rwrb movie #Polo scene #Alex x Henry #RWRB #clowngifs

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rassebers · 1 year

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What my master really is

#a good guy #mp100 #the fucking bridge scene will always ALWAAYS live in my mind #it's such a beautiful moment and subversion of audience expectations #when the camera transitions from little mob at their first meeting to current reigen DIEEEE #they really ... have a lot of history together ... snff.. DONT LOOK AT ME #shigeo kageyama #reigen arataka #mob psycho 100 #my rart

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em-dash-press · 7 months

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Ways to Skip Time In Your Stories

Finding ways to skip time in stories can feel challenging. Writers often worry it’ll make their work feel too amateur or negatively affect their pacing.

The truth is that every author includes ways they skip time to maintain their pacing and plot. Check out a few ways to do it with confidence.

1. Start a New Chapter

Yes, it’s really that simple. Go back to your favorite books and note how each chapter ends. You’ll likely find a few of these tricks that transition the story in ways that match the story’s flow.

Ideas to End a Chapter

The protagonist goes to sleep (likely overused, but practical)

The characters end a conversation

One character informs another of a plot twist

Unexpected action occurs, like a car crash

2. Emphasize the Season

You don’t need to tell the reader exact dates or hours to pass the time. You could mention the season instead.

If a scene or chapter ends in the summer and you need your plot to start in winter, make your protagonist mention something about the leaves changing color and giving way to snow before your action picks up again. It will only take a sentence or two, so it’s also an effective method for short stories.

3. Visualize a Movie Montage

Imagine watching a movie about a character who goes on a summer adventure. They backpack through Europe, but they have to take a flight to get there.

You likely wouldn’t see them standing in airport security lines, napping in a terminal or watching a full movie on their flight to their destination. Instead, you’d get a montage of them driving to the airport with a shot of their plane cruising over the open ocean.

Writers can do the same thing, minus the soundtrack in the background. Describe how your character got to their destination when a new chapter or scene starts. Your readers will get the general idea and appreciate getting straight to the plot that made them pick up your story in the first place.

Here are a few ideas to do this in just a few sentences:

One delayed flight and a bad airplane dinner later, I was walking out of the Amsterdam-Schiphol Airport with an aching back and excited heart.

My trip began with the perfect flight. I got an entire row of seats to myself, which made napping through the trip much easier. A flight attendant roused me awake when it was time to land. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d arrived in Athens that quickly.

My flight was just long enough to catch up on the movies I’d been missing over the last year. The landing gear bounced along the runway in Rome just as the Barbie credits started flashing across my iPad.

4. Showcase Some Confusion

Sometimes we aren’t aware of what time it is. We only know time has passed. That might be the best way to make time pass in your story if your protagonist gets confused, caught by surprise, or otherwise discombobulated.

These are some examples:

I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. The sun was already peaking in the clear blue sky. How long had it been since my explosive video call with my ex the night before?

The time machine landed with a thud that knocked me to the ground. The control panel exploded in shimmering sparks. What year was it?

Working a double shift always left my brain spinning. I left work, walking across the parking lot with only the stars watching my back. I could feel the hours aching in my feet, but didn’t care what time it really was. I just needed to sleep.

5. Employ a Phrase

There are many quick phrases you can use to make your time jumps immediately clear. Consider using a few of these when you feel creatively stuck:

Later that morning

A few weeks later

After months of trying

Six hours later

The following week

As the store closed for the night

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There are many other ways to make time pass in a story. Starting with these could help you figure out the best way to move your story forward without disrupting its pacing.

Remember, you’re in control of your story at all times. There’s always a way through creative challenges if you take a deep breath and try something new.

#writing chapters #writing scenes #chapter writing #scene transitions #chapter transitions #writing transitions #writeblr #writing advice #writing tips #writers of tumblr #creative writing #writing #writing community #writing inspiration #writing help #writing resources

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mutantmayhems · 6 months

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TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES: MUTANT MAYHEM (2023)

#the transitions!!!#i slowed the gifs down to actually see them changing bc i feel like it was way too fast in real time lol #anyway i'm OBSESSED with this scene #mutant mayhem #tmnt #tmnt mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles mutant mayhem #tmnt 2023 #2023 tmnt #mm #mutant mayhem tmnt #tmntedit #may makes #mikey tmnt #raph tmnt #donnie tmnt #leo tmnt

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brianskangs · 1 month

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"Among all of the possibilities, Thank you for choosing me" — Welcome to the Show (DAY6)

#day6 #young k #sungjin #wonpil #dowoon #youngk #OUR SUPERBAND IS BACK YALL #AND ONCE AGAIN THEY DID NOT DISAPPOINT #the transition gif of the curtains falling down? cinematography at its finest <3 #also was this a pain to colour? absolutely the scenes were so muted i had to bring some colour back into them but it made everything grainy #but i cannot be bothered anymore asjdhsjkfdas its been 3 hours!!#*

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bloo-the-dragon · 4 months

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roccs

(inspired by this post)

#fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf sundrop #fnaf bloodmoon #fnaf daycare attendant oc #bloodmoon #jester bots and dragons #bloo's art #too lazy to do transition scenes mrrr #also my computer restarted after finishing these and i couldn't find the files #thought they got deleted #scariest moment for any artist #Moon is babysitting for their neighbours btw

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apparently-artless · 7 months

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Sousou no Frieren ED - Anytime Anywhere by milet

#sousou no frieren #frieren beyond journey's end #frieren at the funeral #frierenedit #animeedit #anime gif #fyanimegifs #dailyanimatedgifs #userdabiluna #usergojoana #userokkottsus #tuserelena #artsgifs #the ending is so awesome every scenes are connected i had a hard time with the transitions :o

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deadunderorbit · 7 months

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nothing’s new

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random-mdzs-thoughts-dumpster · 3 months

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Would anyone be interested in a compilation of Xiyao scenes from the Untamed?

#Like no subtitles filters music or transitions #just the scenes #Maybe it already exists though #Xiyao #Jin guangyao #Lan xichen

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timetodiverge · 2 months

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The Bad Batch | Season 3, Episode 1 "Confined"

#the bad batch SPOILERS #150 DAYS (at least)!!!#someone with better eyes than me counted 164 DAYS (5.5 months!!)#the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch season 3 #tbb #tbb omega #our baby nooooo #not gonna lie this was a WICKED transition scene

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sualne · 3 months

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man i dont even know

#undescribed #my art #secret modern au #got hyped about animation watching the opening + vid about miss ishitani so i wanted to make an animatic about the maud(maudern(modern au))#but i dont have a song so its kind of aimless and scenes transitioning into each others. its spoils stuff but without context its prob fine

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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

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— — —

When the morning sun bleeds into the room, it wakes Keith up alone.

It’s a strange way to wake up; being exceptionally aware that you are alone. He has woken up alone for most of his life. It is not something he usually notices. But this morning, in a strange bed that he has slept in for who knows how long, in a room he has recovered in for who knows how long, on a planet he had only intended to visit, he wakes up and has the distinct thought: No one is sleeping next to me.

He gets up carefully, gentle with the comforter, gentler with his injured leg. He’s intimately aware of how much he would appreciate a wash, or a change of clothes. His own clothes, even, although he realises with a lump in his throat how impossible that truly is.

He limps slowly out of the room, wincing at the loud creak of the floorboards. The walk down the hallways is less daunting with the late morning light, although this time there’s no one busy in the kitchen. Confused, Keith backtracks some, peeking into the other rooms that branch off the hall in search of the man he’d slept with last night.

Well. Slept next to. Whatever.

The first room is small, a pantry of some kind. The many shelves are lined with jars of preserves, brightly coloured labels stuck crookedly on the glass. A variety of dried plants and meats hang from the ceiling, along with some other things that Keith doesn’t recognise. The next door is what must be the guest room that was the source of last night’s argument; the bed is under the window instead of perpendicular to it, and admittedly is too small to fit Keith comfortably. It’s much sparser than the other bedroom, too, although there are still shelves lining the wall.

Keith checks a couple other rooms, none of which seem to have a specific purpose, until finally he opens the door to what appears to be a bathroom. With a shower.

He’s inside and locking the door behind him before he can think otherwise. His hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment, shifting from foot to foot with indecision. This isn’t…his house. Every step in the unfamiliar environment reminds him of that. But he also needs a shower so quiznacking badly. His fur is matted. He swears he can feel his skin crawling, even though he knows he’s been cared for. He needs to wash between his ears.

He makes a decision, and steps away from the door.

The bathroom is well-stocked. In a cabinet next to the door Keith finds several fluffy towels, of which he takes two – they’re human-sized. He finds several dozen bottles of various soaps, none of which he recognises, so he just chooses the one he thinks smells the nicest. He spends more time than he is willing to admit trying to figure out the knobs to get the water running (why don’t Earthlings have buttons for everything like normal people) but standing under that steaming spray is – relieving, to say the least. He spends a decent chunk of time just standing under the spray, letting the high pressure undo some of the knots in his back. He tries to stay conscientious of the water, though, figuring it’ll shut itself off soon, so he pulls himself out of the spray and starts to lather himself up.

It takes a long-ass time to untangle his hair. Long enough that the water gets cold – which is not something Keith expected in the slightest and made him actually genuinely scream – and Keith shuts it off to work the soap through the snorzlak’s nest that lies on top of his head, as his mother would say. Once he’s rinsed all the suds out of his hair and gotten used to the water, he lets his injured and newly undressed leg soak under the spray for a while, cleaning off the blood and scabs and other disgusting shit Keith’s can’t look at without wanting to throw up. The cool water does feel nice on it, though, clueing him into just how painful it really has been.

By the time he’s finally clean and stepping out of the shower, he’s so loose and relieved that he’s practically goo. The towels are soft and fluffy and blissfully abrasive as he scrubs it through his hair and over his skin, tying two together at his hips once’s he’s no longer dripping. He pokes around the bathroom in search for a fangbrush, finding something similar behind the mirror next to a tube of something called ‘toothpaste’. Keith shrugs and puts a dollop of the goopy stuff on his finger, rubbing it all over his teeth and following it with the fangbrush.

He gags.

“Dat thit ith dithguthting,” he spits, hunching over the sink and using the fangbrush desperately on his tongue. The horrible paste only lathers, spilling out onto his lips where it burns, so he twists the faucet on full blast and sticks his mouth under it.

“Why ith it burning more,” he despairs, spitting the water out and scraping the nasty stuff out with his fingers. His mouth still smarts and stings. He’s never has anything like that in his life – it’s spicy, but cold? Somehow? It’s fucking disgusting. Why is that the flavour of a – of a tooth cleaner, stars above.

Mouth as normal as he is going to get it, he dries off his face and steps away, setting the fangbrush neatly on the counter and shoving the hellish ‘toothpaste’ back where he found it. He frowns at his pile of discarded clothes, debating putting them back on, but ultimately can’t make himself. They’re half-ripped and kind of gross. He’s newly cleaned. Walking around in a towel isn’t ideal, but maybe there’s spare clothing in the bedroom? He’ll figure it out.

Making note to come back and clean up his clothes for later, he unlocks the bathroom door and steps into the hallway, shivering at the sudden blast of cooler air that makes his fur stick up more than it already does. He pads down the hall back to the bedroom, pushing open the slightly open door and –

“Oh, Jesus.”

Eggs splat on the ground as a basket tumbles out of startled hands. The human makes a scrambled, aborted move to catch it, but it’s far too late, and yolk stains the wooden panelling and what feels like half the room in a stark mirror to last night. His face is bright, supernova red, and he looks everywhere but at Keith.

Keith swallows. “Um. Hello.”

“Hello,” the man responds, but his voice dips and cracks more times than Keith would think possible in one word. He says nothing else, still looking resolutely away.

“I took a shower.”

“I can. See that.” Then, under his breath: “Believe me.”

“I hope that was okay,” Keith says nervously. If that’s the problem, then things are going to get awkward. Is it – rude, in Earth culture? Keith’s not sure. His father had told him more things than he could ever remember, but he wasn’t a great source on etiquette.

“No, it’s fine. I just.” The human clears his throat. “Your clothes weren’t in the best shape, huh?”

Keith inclines his head. “Not really.”

The man looks up at him, finally. He meets Keith’s eyes for a brief second and then his gaze drops to his chest, where it stays. Keith frowns. He’s been informed that he tends to – glare at people, when he doesn’t mean to. He makes an effort to soften his face, although he’s not sure it does much.

“Do you have – pants, or something? I don’t know that they’ll fit, but I can –”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, hold on.” Some of the strangeness of the human’s expression thankfully seems to fade as he rushes over to a folded set of clothes on a chair, holding them out to Keith. Keith takes them gratefully.

“I didn’t – know your size, obviously. And I didn’t want to leave you here alone. So. This is technically a toga. That’s my bad. It should cover, though? Hopefully. It worked for the Greeks.” He laughs nervously. “You don’t know who the Greeks are. Um.”

“I know who the Greeks are,” Keith says, smiling. The human meets his eyes and then quickly looks back away, redness making his cheeks glow again. “My father used to tell me all kinds of stories from Ancient Greece. I liked hearing about Artemis most.”

The human looks Keith up and down, gobsmacked. “Your…dad.”

“Yes.’

“And your dad was a…frequent visitor of Earth?”

“Oh, not really,” Keith dismisses, unfolding the soft material and holding it up to his chest, trying to find somewhere to put his head. “He never bothered going back once he was wormholed home. To Daizabaal, I mean. But he told me lots of stories growing up to make sure I was familiar with my heritage.”

“You’re human?”

“Half, yes.” He finally finds the hole and tugs it over his head, smiling triumpahntly. He drapes the fabric over his shoulders and cicnhes it at the waist, letting the towel drop. It’s a tad bit shorter than he would like, but it’s better than before, so he shrugs at lets it be.

“That’s – you’re fucking – I didn’t know – okay.” The human holds up a hand. “Okay, time out. There is egg on the floor. I keep dropping shit. You have – really nice legs, holy shit, that is not the focus. I’m gonna.” He points to the door. “I’m gonna go take five minutes to calm my shit. Then I’m gonna come back here and clean up these eggs before they cement themselves to the floor. Then I have – questions, okay. Lots of them.”

“I don’t know what cement is,” Keith admits. “But, um. Sounds like a plan. I’m gonna look around, if that’s okay…?”

“Knock yourself out,” the human says, sighing, then leaves without a word.

Keith blinks. Then he smiles, a little sad around the edges. He hasn’t heard that idiom in many years. As out of place as he feels right now, pieces of home – pieces of his father – keep popping up everywhere. It’s a nice reminder for why he came, even though it feels like everything has changed in a small amount of time.

Conscious of the timeline the human gave him, Keith searches the room quickly in hopes to find his pack, and sees it hung on a row of hooks on the back of the door, burn holes carefully patched with neat stitches. He lifts the bag gently, swallowing back the lump in his throat at the familiar rough texture of the fabric, and heads back out towards the kitchen and living room area he saw last night. He sits gingerly down at the corner of the couch and unties the top of the bag, pulling out each piece and laying it on the low-laying table in the middle of the room.

The pieces of his comm are the first to come out. There’s no spiderweb cracking of the screen, no chunks missing, just a clean crack down the middle – Keith has no idea how that one happened. A laser shot of some kind, maybe, although he doesn’t remember hearing any fired as he was shot out of the sky. Next is his field journal, a little singed around the edges but mostly unscathed, then the shrinkpacks of supplies – food, water pouches, a bedroll, some clothes. He’ll have to regenerate them later, see if they’re still useful. Hopefully.

Finally, cradled at the bottom of his back, are his photos – he lets out a huge sigh of relief. They have, miraculously, seemed to have taken no damage from the crash. In fact they’re more pristine than Keith himself. He brushes his finger over the oldest one, of his mother and father right after Keith was born, holding him. The shape of his mother’s hair and his father’s smile have been smudged over the years, from years and years of his – often dirty, he was a messy child – touch, but it is familiar and grounding and reliving to have with him.

“So,” says the human, startling him as he sits heavily on the couch, “The world is a weird goddamn place.”

He looks weary. The bags under his eyes are marginally less heavy than they were last night, maybe, but tiredness still sags at his shoulders, sallows his skin. His blinks are long and heavy, like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. Despite that, he looks at Keith with brown eyes bright with determination and attention.

“It is.”

“I’m Lance.”

“Keith.”

Lance’s eyebrows raise.

“Odd name, I know. I can go by Yorak if it’s easier –”

“No, no, Keith is actually quite –” He pauses, eyebrows raising even farther. His mouth gets pinched with poorly concealed amusement. “Yorak?”

Keith sighs. “It was the name my mother intended to give me. My father was insistent on Keith, though. It’s okay. Most people just call me Yorak, anyway. Keith is a bit of a mouthful.”

Lance loses his battle, head tucked to muffle his giggles.

“No, Keith is fine. It’s your name, after all. It’s just – I think I know nineteen different Keiths. I wasn’t expecting such a common name for someone so –” he looks up, smile suddenly shy – “extraordinary.”

That…makes a lot of sense, actually. Somehow Keith had never considered that his name might be common on Earth. He figured his dad just made it up. Seemed like something he would do.

“...Oh.”

“I can call you Yorak, if you like,” Lance offers. His mouth twitches again. “I promise I can do it without laughing. As soon as I stop hearing 80s anime villains in my head every time I hear it, we’ll be set.”

Keith has no idea what any of that means. But he waves a hand anyway, dismissive. “Keith is fine.”

Lance sticks out a hand. Keith stares at it.

“In some cultures on Earth, humans greet each other by shaking hands,” Lance explains.

Keith tilts his head. “But we’ve already met.”

“Officially, I mean.”

“Oh.” Keith hesitantly reaches out and wraps his hand around Lance’s. His hand is soft, and his fingers are cold. “Like this?”

Lance smiles, softly this time, lifting and dropping their joined hands in an intentional movement.

“Welcome to Earth, Keith.”

———