There's no question here, only some comments on how to narrate a battle sequence. I'm currently reading Patrick O'Brian's naval books and I've seen him do two things that might be of interest here.
One, he skips whole sections. More than once he brings us into a fight, describing things in great detail, but only to the point where it's clear the action (cutting out, gun battle, whatever) is going to work. Then he jumps straight to the aftermath. It was a little disorienting at first, but I can see the virtue in it. It lets the author off from the sometimes tedious task of following through with all the details of mopping up. Battles do not end with a mighty crescendo; they trail off in sporadic engagements, pursuits, rooting out, hunting down. In a great many historical instances, nobody even knows who won until the next day, or even later. If it's a grind for the author to write, it's a grind for the reader to read. Anyway, it's an approach; easily botched, I should think, but one to keep in mind. Arrows in the quiver and all that.
The second I noticed in his third volume. Aubrey is engaged in another cutting-out expedition that requires coordination among four ships. It's a complicated maneuver--so much so they actually practice for a few days. It's going to be tricky to narrate, and O'Brian chooses a clever way to handle it.
He has Aubrey describe his idea to his friend Maturin first. Later, when he's more sure of it, he lays it out in detail to one of the other captains. Then he repeats the plan in sketchier form to the crews of the cutting-out boats.
By the time of the actual operation, the reader has heard the plan multiple times, so when he goes into the narrative, he can concentrate on the actions of individuals, the inevitable unexpected turns, and the emotions of the central characters. Had he not prepped us, and had to describe the plan as it went along, the narration would have bogged down dreadfully.
So, two techniques. Neither are ones you would use every time, but they offer some interesting solutions for specific situations, or at least alternatives worth considering. Arrows. Quivers. All that.
One, he skips whole sections. More than once he brings us into a fight, describing things in great detail, but only to the point where it's clear the action (cutting out, gun battle, whatever) is going to work. Then he jumps straight to the aftermath. It was a little disorienting at first, but I can see the virtue in it. It lets the author off from the sometimes tedious task of following through with all the details of mopping up. Battles do not end with a mighty crescendo; they trail off in sporadic engagements, pursuits, rooting out, hunting down. In a great many historical instances, nobody even knows who won until the next day, or even later. If it's a grind for the author to write, it's a grind for the reader to read. Anyway, it's an approach; easily botched, I should think, but one to keep in mind. Arrows in the quiver and all that.
The second I noticed in his third volume. Aubrey is engaged in another cutting-out expedition that requires coordination among four ships. It's a complicated maneuver--so much so they actually practice for a few days. It's going to be tricky to narrate, and O'Brian chooses a clever way to handle it.
He has Aubrey describe his idea to his friend Maturin first. Later, when he's more sure of it, he lays it out in detail to one of the other captains. Then he repeats the plan in sketchier form to the crews of the cutting-out boats.
By the time of the actual operation, the reader has heard the plan multiple times, so when he goes into the narrative, he can concentrate on the actions of individuals, the inevitable unexpected turns, and the emotions of the central characters. Had he not prepped us, and had to describe the plan as it went along, the narration would have bogged down dreadfully.
So, two techniques. Neither are ones you would use every time, but they offer some interesting solutions for specific situations, or at least alternatives worth considering. Arrows. Quivers. All that.
Minstrel