Scene Mastery & Sticking the Landing
Chapters 19-25 from Make A Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld
Welcome back to the Marginalia Book Club where we dive into craft books for writers in order to improve our techniques.
Each post will cover specific sections of our current book, with thoughts, questions, and a space for discussion. Whether you're reading along or just curious, I hope you’ll find something to spark your imagination and deepen your understanding of the writing craft.
We’ll be gathering together on Zoom THIS Saturday, February 15, 2025 at 12pm ET. We’ll be joined by a special guest who you won’t want to miss!
Now, let’s dig into today’s focus: chapters 14-18 from Make a Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld (Bookshop | Amazon).
Chapter 19: Climactic Scenes
A great climactic scene doesn’t come out of nowhere—it’s carefully set up in the scenes leading up to it. The key to a strong climax is telegraphing its arrival, creating a sense of impending instability and raising the stakes in the preceding moments. By the time the climax arrives, readers should feel like they’ve been heading toward this inevitable moment all along.
At the heart of the climax is transformation. Everything in the story has been building toward this turning point, and the protagonist must change in a fundamental way. Mastering all the scene elements covered so far will allow for a climax that feels both powerful and satisfying.
The climax should also be a direct outgrowth of the inciting incident. The events set in motion at the beginning of the story must lead to this moment, making the climax feel both inevitable and earned.
Chapter 20: Epiphany Scenes
Epiphanies are a powerful way to show character growth and transformation. Unlike external events that force change, an epiphany comes from within—a realization that shifts how a character sees the world, themselves, or their situation. These moments can happen in any type of scene—dramatic, suspenseful, or contemplative—but they are often most effective when the character is already under stress, conflict, or emotional strain.
True transformation is difficult—both in fiction and in real life. People don’t change easily, and crafting believable character growth through epiphanies requires careful pressure, buildup, and execution. It’s a delicate balance—too heavy-handed, and it feels preachy; too subtle, and the moment doesn’t land.
Another crucial element? Epiphanies have costs. Realization alone isn’t enough—change has consequences, and the reader needs to see how the character's new understanding affects their choices and relationships moving forward. As Rosenfeld puts it, “Character changes are best demonstrated.”
Sidebar: two different example chapters in this section reference Los Angeles area fires. In both, it’s symbolic of change, renewal, and destruction. So timely given the current events.
Chapter 21: The Final Scene
“The final scene of your narrative will signal the conclusion of the inciting incident even if it leaves room for further possibilities to spin off in a new book."
This is where so many cliffhangers go wrong, in my opinion—they don’t resolve what started the story, they just cut off mid-action. A satisfying novel with a cliffhanger concludes the inciting incident while hinting at new possibilities. An unsatisfying one simply cuts off.
And while Rosenfeld isn’t a fan of epilogues, I love a good one. If a book ends without an epilogue, I often find myself feeling like something’s missing. Reader preferences vary wildly here, so whether to include one is a choice each writer has to make.
One powerful technique for ending well is to create a counterpoint or full-circle moment—mirroring or bookending the opening scene in some way. This often creates a deeply satisfying effect for readers.
Final scenes also tend to be quieter, allowing for reflection. They don’t need the high energy of earlier climactic moments. Instead, they provide the emotional resonance that makes a story linger in the reader’s mind.
And then there’s the last line of your story. A surprising number of readers and interviewers ask, “What do you want people to walk away from your book with?” It’s a tough question, but when I look back at my own final paragraphs, I realize the answer is always there in those last words. I wasn’t always consciously shaping that final message, but that’s the mystery of the creative process—the ending that feels right as you craft it is often the one the entire book has been leading toward all along.
📢 Do you consciously try to mirror the opening and closing scenes or even lines of your stories? Do you think about what readers should leave your book with?
Chapter 22: Point of View
Haphazard POV shifts—aka head hopping—can give readers whiplash, making it hard to stay immersed in the story. This chapter reviews the different POV options and their effects:
First person creates immediacy and intimacy
Second person takes intimacy a step further, as “you” tell the story to yourself
Third person intimate or limited keeps close to a character, while third person omniscient allows for a broader perspective
A concept new to me here is omniscient continuous, which sounds like third-person omniscient but with more fluid character shifts. I assume that when executed well, it doesn’t feel overwhelming or disorienting.
Omniscient POV is notoriously tricky in modern fiction, and Rosenfeld provides solid tips for handling it effectively. I originally considered writing my current WIP in omniscient but quickly realized my story didn’t need it—I wanted a tighter plot rather than constantly second-guessing my POV choices.
This chapter also touches on scene vs. chapter structure—should you keep one scene per chapter or combine multiple? Rosenfeld suggests that multiple scenes per chapter can offer different perspectives on a topic, which I hadn’t seen laid out before. I tend to structure my chapters around scene length (usually 2,000-4,000 words), but it’s useful to consider other approaches.
📢Have you ever struggled with POV choices in your writing? Have you ever switched perspectives mid-draft, and how did it impact your story?
Chapter 23: Secondary and Minor Characters
Here secondary characters are split into antagonists and allies. Antagonists aren’t always villains; sometimes they just want the same thing as the protagonist but go about achieving it in a different way. Think of two characters vying for control of a kingdom—one for noble reasons, the other for selfish ones.
Allies and antagonists don’t necessarily need to undergo personal transformations; their primary purpose is to either support or oppose the protagonist’s journey.
Then there are minor characters—the bit players and featured extras of a story. They serve their purpose and then disappear. But sometimes secondary characters threaten to take over the narrative. I get asked about this a lot, and honestly, some of my favorite characters in my own books are side characters who feel like they could have stories of their own. This is intentional on my part—I want everyone to feel three-dimensional, as if they could be the hero of their own story.
📢 Do you have any secondary characters in your work who feel like they could star in their own novel? What makes them compelling?
Chapter 24: Scene Transitions
One thing that jolts me out of a book is a rough scene transition—when time or location shifts, and I have to stop and figure out what just happened. If a reader has to ask, How did they get there? or How much time has passed?—the transition isn’t working.
Simple markers, like “Later that evening” or “By the time she got home”, go a long way in smoothly guiding readers through time jumps. I once critiqued a scene where a character was in a car and then, suddenly, inside their house—without any indication of how they got there. All it needed was a sentence like “When I stepped inside…” and the confusion would have been avoided.
Condensing time through summary, dialogue, or setting can also help avoid the reader with time travel.
Chapter 25: Scene Assessment and Revision
Some of my best writing advice? Put your work aside before revising. Distance helps you assess your work more objectively, which is crucial when deciding whether a scene needs to be there.
One of the hardest revision skills to develop is the ability to ruthlessly assess whether a scene is truly necessary. If it’s not doing the work it needs to—whether advancing the plot, deepening character development, or increasing tension—it might need to go.
This chapter includes a number of scene checklists, which are great tools for ensuring that your scenes are tight and effective and include the necessary elements: character motivation, pertinent dialogue, new information, action, and conflict.
And thus ends Make a Scene! I hope you’ve enjoyed the summaries and learned something to take into your writing. I hope you’re able to join our live book club and catch us with our next book.
If you’d like to vote on what that next book will be, be sure you’re an Imaginary Best Friend. The voting post will go up soon!