Workshop 9

September 22, 2025

Kristina L. Wildes

Set the Mood First

0:00

Opening Song: "Dangerous" by Sleep Token

This track doesn’t just simmer with intensity. It boils beneath the skin. There is something primal in the way it builds, like a truth too long buried finally forcing its way to the surface. Put this on, close your eyes, and let it remind you of what it feels like to lose control… or worse, to let go on purpose. That is the energy we are writing from this week.

Where We Left Off

In Workshop 8, we explored deception. You examined why characters lie, what they are protecting, and what they stand to lose if the truth ever surfaces. You peeled apart the anatomy of a lie. Its intent, its delivery, and its consequences. You wrote the moment when someone twisted the truth, whether through spoken words, deliberate omission, or carefully calculated silence. You went beneath the surface and asked hard questions about motive and survival.

You also turned your attention to the world your story exists in. You defined the rules that shape it. What makes a lie dangerous? What consequences exist for deceit in your world? Is lying a political maneuver, a desperate defense, or an unforgivable sin? You built the scaffolding that supports your narrative tension, the system that gives weight to every unspoken word.

Now the groundwork has been laid. This week, the mask slips. Someone is caught. The web begins to collapse. The price of the lie, whether long-delayed or immediate, finally arrives. Maybe the fallout is emotional. Maybe it is violent. Maybe it shatters something that cannot be rebuilt. But either way, the illusion no longer holds.

This is the moment you have been building toward. The tension that once simmered just below the surface now demands to be reckoned with. The lie may have seemed like a survival tactic in the moment. Now, it is the spark that lights the next fire.

This Week’s Prompt

Write the Scene Where Something Spirals Out of Control

This is the moment where everything unravels. The lie has fractured. The tension that’s been humming just beneath the surface has finally exploded. The secret is no longer a secret. The carefully built structure of control collapses beneath the weight of consequence.

Write the scene where:

• An alliance finally fractures after too many ignored warnings

• A truth detonates and takes someone's safety or stability with it

• A character shatters under the pressure, whether anyone is watching or not

• Control slips away: emotionally, physically, politically, or spiritually

This moment should feel like a turning point. Nothing is the same after this. Maybe the spiral happens in a crowded room. Maybe it happens in complete isolation. Either way, it matters. Let it shift the story. Let it force the characters to confront something they can no longer pretend isn’t real.

Ask yourself:

• What has been quietly building up to this moment?

• What little lies, missed signs, or delayed consequences have led here?

• Who is there to witness it, and how does it change what they think or do next?

• Who is broken by this unraveling, and who rises in the chaos to seize something they have been waiting for?

This is not a subtle shift. This is not a moment to walk back or apologize away. This is the scene that cracks the ground and leaves everyone scrambling to find stable footing. Let the emotions run high. Let the fallout begin. Let the rupture be permanent.

Let It Sink In

0:00

Reflective Song: "Rain" by I Prevail

Let this song flood your senses. Feel the slow rise from anguish to fury, the helplessness that becomes resolve. This is the sound of someone standing in the wreckage of what used to be and deciding what to do next. Let your character stand in the rain. Let them scream into it, whisper into it, or just exist in it.

Before you write, take a moment.

What is falling apart? What will never be whole again? What truth does the rain finally wash clean?

Your Goal This Week

First Requirement - Write three to five pages.

This scene should shift the structure of your story. Something must change. It could be a relationship that fractures, a plan that falls apart, a belief that no longer holds, or a mask that slips for the last time. It does not have to be a shouting match or a dramatic explosion. The change can be quiet, whispered, or barely spoken. But it must be undeniable. After this scene, the story cannot go back to what it was.

Focus on:

• Emotional and narrative escalation. Let the tension build and release in a way that feels earned.

• A shift in character dynamic or motivation. Someone sees the world differently after this.

• A ripple that will be felt for chapters to come. Even if the impact is delayed, the moment must land.

Let the consequences hit. Let them cut, scar, unravel. Maybe someone walks away from this scene in silence, but everything has changed inside them. Maybe someone lashes out because that is the only way they know how to protect what little they have left. Either way, make sure it matters.

Second Requirement - Timeline of Escalation

This week, you will build or refine your timeline of emotional or plot escalation. This is not your story outline. This is a diagnostic tool. A guide to understanding how your characters reached the edge and what pushed them over.

Include:

• The emotional temperature of each major scene or chapter.

  • Were things calm?

  • Were they tense?

  • Were they already breaking?

• What sparked each rise in tension. Was it a conversation, a discovery, a mistake, or a betrayal?

• What each character learned or assumed in that moment. Sometimes it is the wrong conclusion that leads to the biggest fallout.

• What has been held back or falsely accepted until now. Lies, denials, and avoidances should all be tracked here.

This timeline should serve two purposes.

First, it ensures the spiral you are writing feels justified and grounded in what has come before. It keeps you from forcing drama that has no roots.

Second, it shows you exactly where your story is going next. The unraveling is not the end. It is the moment before a shift in trajectory. Maybe something burns down. Maybe someone gives up. Maybe a new goal takes shape from the ashes. But whatever it is, it starts here.

Keep this timeline nearby. Refer to it as your story grows. Use it as a compass when you feel the tension beginning to fray again.

Because not every breakdown screams. Some destroy quietly. Some whisper everything you need to know. But every single one leaves a mark that cannot be undone.

Craft Focus: Writing the Spiral

A spiral is not always a sudden collapse. More often, it is a quiet, creeping constriction. It is the slow suffocation of control. It is pressure layered on top of pressure. Denial given just enough space to grow roots. A few bad choices. A few missed signals. And then the inevitable moment when everything breaks apart.

This week, your focus is on how that spiral unfolds on the page. Not just through what happens, but in how you write it.

Start with pacing. The spiral is not a straight drop. It circles inward. It builds momentum while still pretending everything is fine. Reflect this in your dialogue. Let conversations loop, where characters talk in circles, avoiding the thing they most need to say. Let them interrupt themselves. Let them repeat key words or ideas. That repetition should start to feel uncomfortable, like something tightening in the chest.

In internal monologue, allow for fragmentation. Show the character’s thoughts starting to fray. Maybe they think too much. Maybe they stop thinking entirely. Let the voice become unsteady. Use sentence fragments. Use pauses. Use contradiction. Let the internal voice betray the calm surface they are trying to maintain.

In your setting, bring back details that now feel different. A room that once felt warm now feels suffocating. The ticking of a clock becomes a thunderous countdown. The light through the window looks sterile. Let your environment echo the emotional spiral. And if the character is spiraling internally while trying to maintain outward calm, show the contrast.

Structure is your ally here. Use it to mirror emotion. If your character is spiraling into panic, shorten the sentences. Let the page feel breathless. If they are spiraling into numbness, flatten the language. Strip out the excess. Let the detachment do the talking. Do not be afraid to make the scene feel disjointed or strange. The reader should feel unsettled. That is the point.

And then, when the breaking point comes? Let it shatter.

Do not clean it up too quickly. Do not try to make it elegant. Let the fallout happen in whatever form it needs. Maybe it is explosive. Maybe it is a whisper. Maybe it is someone walking out the door and never looking back. Maybe it is someone saying nothing at all because they do not know how to speak through the weight of what they feel.

Let the ruin shape itself.

Because only in the aftermath do we fully understand what was holding it all together. And when that structure collapses, the truth has nowhere left to hide.

This is not just about writing a dramatic scene. It is about capturing the fragile line between control and collapse. And when your reader reaches the end of that spiral, they should feel it in their bones.

Next Week: Workshop 10 Preview

Everything has been building toward this.

In Week 9, you let something unravel. You pushed your characters to the edge. A secret cracked. A truth slipped through. A relationship or a plan buckled under the pressure. You mapped the emotional and narrative escalation that led there, and you saw, clearly, what happens when control is lost.

Next week, you stop circling and strike the center.

Workshop 10 is the moment a secret comes into the light. Not just hinted. Not just suspected. Revealed. Maybe it was buried to protect someone. Maybe it was hidden to control them. Maybe it was forgotten, or twisted, until now. But now it can no longer stay hidden.

This is not just about drama. It is about impact. What happens when someone finally hears the truth? When someone finally sees who another person truly is?

What they do next is everything.

The lie you wrote in Week 8, the spiral you crafted in Week 9, they all lead here. Week 10 is the culmination. This is where we stop looking away. This is where we name it.

And just as important, this is where we connect the thread.

In addition to writing the reveal scene, your secondary task next week will ask you to design a subplot arc. One that weaves beneath or beside the main storyline. One that adds tension, depth, and resonance. Then, you will connect that arc directly to the main plot. This is the tether. This is how your story becomes whole.

Because great stories are never just one thread. They are a tapestry. And next week, you begin weaving it all together.

-Kristina