Action writing is about movement—something happening in real time. It’s not explanation or setup. It’s what the reader sees as the scene unfolds.
That doesn’t just mean high-speed chases or fight scenes. A character shifting their weight during a tense conversation? That’s action. Someone slowly picking a lock? That’s action too. If it’s happening in the moment and changing the scene, it counts.
The goal is to keep the story moving and the reader locked in. Whether the action is loud or quiet, big or small, it needs to feel immediate.
In this guide, we’ll break down what makes action work—and how to write it so it lands with impact.
The Five Modes of Fiction Writing
The five modes of fiction writing—description, action, dialogue, exposition, and thought—are the core techniques writers use to tell their stories. They shape how information is delivered and how readers experience the narrative.
Right now, we’re talking Action. Want to learn about the rest? Check out our other posts:
Here you can find writing prompts based on the five modes of fiction writing.
Show the Action, Don’t Tell Us About It
“Show, don’t tell.” It’s one of the most common writing tips out there—and for good reason. You’ve probably heard it before, but it’s worth repeating because it can seriously level up your storytelling, especially when it comes to action scenes.
Because when it comes to action scenes (or really, any moment that’s meant to hit hard), showing makes all the difference. It’s the difference between your reader knowing what’s happening and actually feeling it.
So what’s the big deal?
When you tell, you’re summarizing the moment. You’re giving us the facts, but from a distance.
When you show, you’re letting the scene play out on the page. Your reader isn’t just watching—they’re in it.
Let’s look at an example:
- Telling: “She was scared as she ran away from the attacker.”
- Showing: “Her pulse hammered in her ears as she ran, her breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. Cold sweat clung to her skin, and her legs burned with each frantic step. Behind her, heavy footsteps slammed against the pavement.”
The first one tells us how she feels. The second lets us feel it with her.
And this isn’t about adding a bunch of dramatic words. You can show action in a tight, simple style too:
- “Her breath came fast and uneven. Her bare feet slapped the pavement. Behind her, footsteps gained ground.”
Same moment. Fewer words. Still effective.
The point is: when you show, you create movement, tension, and immediacy. You pull your reader in and make the scene come alive.
But Wait—Is Telling Always Bad?
Nope. Telling has its place, and sometimes it’s exactly what you need.
Here are a few times when telling works just fine:
- To skip time or speed things up:
“Months passed in silence.” - To summarize emotions or internal thoughts:
“She hated how small she felt around him.” - To share quick backstory or context:
“He’d been drifting from job to job since college.” - To move past small or routine moments:
“They chatted for a while, then went inside.”
The trick isn’t to avoid telling altogether—it’s to be intentional. Know when to zoom in and show the moment in detail, and when it’s better to keep things moving.
Use Strong, Active Verbs
If you want your action writing to hit harder, start with your verbs. Seriously—verbs do the heavy lifting in a sentence, especially in fast-paced scenes. When you choose strong, active verbs, you create clearer images and sharper momentum. Weak verbs just kind of… sit there.
Take this:
- Weak: “He moved across the battlefield.”
- Stronger: “He charged across the battlefield.”
Same general idea, totally different energy. One feels like a recap. The other puts us in the middle of the action.
And this isn’t just about high-intensity moments. Even quieter scenes benefit from stronger, more precise verbs:
- Generic: “She sat down in the chair.”
- Stronger: “She sank into the chair.”
That second version tells you how she sat—and how she felt doing it. You can picture it. Maybe even feel it. That’s the power of a well-chosen verb.
Don’t Rely on Adjectives and Adverbs to Do the Work
If you’re leaning on words like really, quickly, tightly, or hard to boost your verbs, chances are the verb just isn’t pulling its weight.
- Weak: “He gripped her hand tightly.”
- Stronger: “He squeezed her hand.”
- Weak: “She fell hard onto the pavement.”
- Stronger: “She crashed onto the pavement.”
It’s not that adjectives and adverbs are evil—they’re just not a great fix for a lazy verb. Use them when they add something valuable, not when they’re patching a hole.
Here’s how to spot the issue and clean it up:
- Scan for -ly adverbs (softly, angrily, quickly) and try swapping in a stronger verb instead.
“He ran quickly” → “He sprinted” - Check for vague adjectives (very, big, small) and replace them with something sensory or specific.
“The air was really cold” → “The air bit at her skin”
Cleaner, sharper, better.
But Don’t Get Too Fancy
Strong verbs are awesome—until they start pulling focus.
If a word makes your reader pause to figure out what it means, it’s probably doing too much. The goal here is clarity and impact, not vocabulary flexing.
- Too much: “She peregrinated through the marketplace, her eyes perusing the wares.”
- Better: “She wandered through the marketplace, scanning the stalls.”
- Too much: “He obliterated his opponent with a single punch.”
- Better: “He knocked his opponent to the ground with a single punch.”
Strong doesn’t have to mean dramatic. It just has to be clear and specific. If the verb paints the picture on its own, you’re doing it right.
Active vs Passive Voice
If you’re writing action, active voice is almost always the way to go. It keeps things tight, energetic, and clear. Passive voice, on the other hand, tends to slow things down. It creates distance. And when your characters are dodging bullets, jumping rooftops, or just trying to make it through a tense moment, the last thing you want is distance.
So, what’s the actual difference?
- Active voice: The subject is doing the action.
“The soldier raised his rifle and fired.” - Passive voice: The subject is having the action done to them—or it’s being done by someone else, off-screen.
“The rifle was raised and fired by the soldier.”
Same basic idea, but one feels direct and immediate. The other feels like a report.
Why Active Voice Works for Action
Action scenes thrive on momentum. You want readers to feel like they’re right there in the moment—not reading a recap. Active voice puts the character front and center. They’re making choices, taking risks, driving the scene.
Passive voice? It turns the spotlight away from your characters. It can feel flat, or like something’s just… happening off to the side.
That’s why, in most cases, active voice keeps your story sharp and alive.
But Passive Voice Isn’t Always Wrong
Used with purpose, passive voice can still be a useful tool. The key word here is purpose.
Here’s when it can actually work:
- When the action matters more than the doer:
“A gunshot rang out in the darkness.”
We don’t care who fired it—we care that it happened. - When the subject is unknown (and that’s the point):
“The jewels had been stolen.”
Mystery preserved. No need to name the thief—yet. - When you want to emphasize the result over the cause:
“The village was destroyed by the fire.”
The focus is on the destruction, not on who or what caused it.
Passive voice can add weight or mystery when used well. But if you’re slipping into it by accident—especially in high-stakes scenes—it can dull the edge of your writing.
Avoid Over-Describing Every Move
When you’re writing action, it’s tempting to describe every single movement—like you’re directing a scene in your head, step by step. But trying to capture every detail doesn’t make the moment more intense. It actually does the opposite.
Too much description slows things down. Instead of a fast, gripping sequence, you get something that feels clunky, robotic, or just plain hard to follow.
Here’s why it’s a problem:
- It drags the pace: Action scenes should feel quick. If readers are stopping to picture every footstep and hand motion, the energy fades.
- It breaks the flow: Movement should feel natural. Over-explaining it makes it feel staged.
- It muddies the scene: The more you pile on, the harder it is to track what’s actually happening—especially in high-stakes moments.
Let’s look at an example:
- Over-described:
“He stepped forward with his right foot, shifting his weight onto his back leg. His left hand rose slightly for balance as his right fist clenched, muscles tensing. He pulled his arm back, then drove his fist forward toward his opponent’s jaw.” - Tighter version:
“He shifted his weight and swung, his fist smashing into his opponent’s jaw.”
Same moment, way less clutter. And it still lands.
When you keep things clean and focused, readers stay with you. They don’t need to see every shift in balance or muscle twitch to feel the hit.
And this is another spot where strong verbs do a lot of work. Instead of building a sentence around a basic verb like moved or put, use something that shows the action in one shot—lunged, shoved, grabbed, slammed. The right verb trims the fat and keeps the punch.
Your job isn’t to describe every move—it’s to keep the reader inside the moment. Zoom in when something matters. Zoom out when it doesn’t. Let the pace drive the scene.
Don’t Ignore Setting
Setting usually gets its moment at the start of a scene, but that doesn’t mean you should leave it behind once the action kicks in. If the scene isn’t grounded in its surroundings, the action can start to feel disconnected—like it’s happening in a blank void.
To keep your action clear and immersive, bring the setting along for the ride.
Compare these two:
- “He dodged the attack and swung back, missing by inches.”
- “He ducked just as the knife slashed past his head, chipping the brick wall behind him. Stumbling back, he grabbed the rusted pipe near his feet and swung hard.”
Same basic moment, but the second version feels real. The setting isn’t a backdrop—it’s part of the action.
You don’t need to pause to describe the world. Just show how it affects what the characters are doing. The setting should shape their movement, decisions, and reactions.
Some examples:
Desert
- “He trudged through the sand, sweat stinging his eyes.”
- “She collapsed to her knees, the scorching ground burning her palms.”
Stormy or wet environment
- “He skidded on the slick pavement, barely keeping his balance.”
- “The wind lashed at her face as she staggered forward.”
Urban chase
- “He vaulted over the hood of a parked car.”
- “She ducked under a hanging sign, the neon glow flashing across her face.”
When you use the setting like this, it stops being background noise. It becomes part of the story. Where something happens should always influence how it happens.
Key Takeaways
- Action is real-time: It’s anything happening in the moment—whether that’s a punch thrown, a door opened, or a glance that changes everything.
- Show, don’t tell: Let the moment play out on the page. Readers want to feel the action, not just hear about it.
- Use strong, active verbs: They carry the weight of the scene and keep things sharp. Don’t rely on adverbs or adjectives to do what a better verb could do on its own.
- Stick to active voice: It keeps your writing tight and focused. Use passive voice only when it serves a clear purpose—like creating mystery or emphasizing results.
- Don’t over-describe: You don’t need to choreograph every move. Trust the reader to fill in the gaps and focus on what matters.
- Keep the setting in play: Let the environment shape the action. It makes scenes more grounded and believable.
