This was originally going to be a post about tension. I started writing, but then it became a post about how to write awesome fights. But then I realized that before I delve into either of those topics, I want to address two big puzzlers every writer must face at one time or another.How do I make the audience fear for my characters' lives?
How do I kill a character without it being lame or predictable?
This dilemma is best described as a game of chicken with the audience. If they know that you won’t kill, maim or permanently change anyone, then you will lose this game. No matter how many guns you point at your characters, no matter how many velociraptors or shadow monsters or angry, alien dogs you have nipping at their heels, the audience will be all like “whatever pussy, we know you ain’t gonna do shit.”
You gonna take that?
I didn’t think so.
But here's the thing. Killing a character is often the laziest thing you can do with them. It’s very difficult to get a character death right.
It's very easy, on the other hand, for a character’s death to come off as pointless and sensationalist. It is also very easy for it to be predictable. Uh oh, have all this character's major conflicts suddenly been resolved? Shiiitttt he is so dead.
Seriously, as a writer, the day my goals and dreams come to fruition all at once, I will be fearing for my life.

And then, after winning this castle and its glorious unicorn guardian in a raffle, Shaun came down with SARS, the Rage Virus, and a nasty case of Blood Needles.
So what can we do? How do we show the audience we mean business?
Do horrible, horrible things to your characters -- that's what. Have them fail. Have them get hurt. Have them lose something or someone they love, in a way that is somehow their fault, in some way having to do with their own weakness, or arrogance, or inexperience.
Here's the important part: Make it bad, but not nearly as bad as you want things to be later on.
Look at it as a fight, and the audience as an experienced fighter. In the beginning, do you play it defensive, pretend to be a worse fighter than you actually are, get in some light hits but nothing serious? And then, when they least suspect it, do you hit them as hard as you can?
NO.
The audience is not stupid. They know what you're trying to do, they know eventually you're gonna take an actual swing, or you wouldn't be there in the ring with them. And maybe when you do, it's surprising, and shocking, but for that build up? Bored, annoyed, and not waiting scared for your first hit -- just waiting expectantly, wondering when something's going to happen.
Every scene should be tense. Every moment, something should be at stake. But where is this tension going to come from if the audience doesn't think you mean business?
So let's go back to the fight metaphor. Instead of staying defensive in the beginning, you hit, and you hit HARD.
After establishing that you're a complete and utter bastard who is seriously out to get these characters that people (hopefully) love, establishing that shit could go down at any moment, you will have the audience scared -- you will have the upper hand in the game of chicken. You've already hit them hard enough to at least chip a tooth or two, now they'll be waiting for you to knock some out at any turn.
Alright, so now they know that you have no qualms with serious change in your narrative. Cool. How about when you finally get to that point where you want to kill of one of your characters?
FIRST, I need you to ask yourself a few very, very important questions.
DO I REALLY NEED TO KILL THIS CHARACTER?
Am I doing this as a sensationalist attention grabber?
Will this death have a profound, lingering effect on the story?
If the answer is yes, no, and yes, then cool. But how about
What purpose does this death serve?
Assuming this death passes the previous 3 question test, I find that death for major characters can only succeed if they are for one of two reasons.
1.) To demonstrate that life sucks, and that for some of these characters, it is going to end tragically.
2.) If the death is a profound and life changing removal of a friend, family member, lover, or antagonist (or any combination of the four) that alters the course of one or more of the other character's prime narrative arcs.

Companion Cube -- slumbering in the arms of angels. Rest well, old friend. Rest well.
SECOND STEP -- THE LEAD UP.
This is where it starts to get hard. You are caught between the desire to tie up all the character's loose ends, to conclude his or her story in a satisfying fashion, but you also don't want the death to be predictable. If things start to go suspiciously well for a character, the audience is smart enough to smell death in the air.
In real life, deaths are rarely satisfying. They are usually sudden and unexpected, or horribly drawn out. They are usually pretty meaningless.
In stories, however, nobody wants a meaningless death. People want their heroes to go heroically. They don't want good people to die unless they are ready -- unless they've achieved their goals and dreams, and are at least somewhat ready to go.
Well, here's the thing -- you can't always give the audience what they want. Life is a blend of awful and wonderful. It is tragic, and sometimes terribly, terribly sad -- but it's balanced out by that first kiss, and fresh picked strawberries, and that nap on the couch after thanksgiving dinner, and that lull at the end of a night when you and your buddies are just sitting there in the firelight, sleepy and drunk, listening as your one friend with the okay voice quietly hums and strums the guitar.
Example: Things in life that are straight up awesome.
Life is bittersweet. The most effective stories are as well. Don't just kill off your character, give them something, anything, even if just one small moment of happiness before it all goes to shit. But don't give them too much. Don't wrap up everything for them -- their unfinished business, that sense of not being ready to go, their need for just one more goddamn day --that's prime. That'll give the death a sense of tragedy, a sense of reality.
So lead up to it, just not too much. Balance the sour with the sweet. And that brings us to the
THIRD STEP - THE DEATH ITSELF
Keep this one very important thing in mind. A permanent, meaningful change (that was realistically achieved) in a character's personality or position in the story is just as powerful as a death -- and often more so. It is a death of sorts, as they can never truly be the same as they once were -- and if they did, it would be a cheap disservice to both them and the audience.
All characters die, in a way. Death in a story = the end of a narrative arc. This can be from a death, or from achieving a desire or objective that alters their life in an important way -- like killing the man who murdered your parents, marrying the girl of your dreams, having a child, quitting a job, getting that promotion, selling that book, or getting a car -- whatever. Just like the tarot card, death is not necessarily death. Sometimes it's just change.
I got mad love for you, shorty.
So remember, death is all about change, a new direction in your story. If the death you choose is a literal one, make it memorable. Make it unexpected. Make it have a point. And make it something that will seriously haunt the audience.
Remember -- don't make it all bad, and don't make it all good. Keep it bittersweet. Cause if it doesn't give a vague sense of satisfaction with the character's ending while still hurting like hell and making the audience wish it wasn't so -- you've done it wrong.
Play me off, powerful Gears of War 2 trailer that tells a whole, beautiful story in just about a minute, giving me the chills every time I watch you and just being way better than you really have any right to be,
-Shaun











