Craft Questions in Writing: Do You Really Need That Scene?

In nearly every mastermind session we host inside the Mindful Writing Community, a few familiar questions pop up like clockwork:

“Do I really need this flashback?”
“Is my first page strong enough?”
“This scene feels flat, but I don’t know why…”

If you’ve found yourself asking any of these, welcome. You’re in excellent company. These craft questions are a normal part of writing—and especially rewriting. They show up most often when a writer is deep in the muck of revision, trying to shape raw pages into something meaningful.

Let’s walk through a few of these sticky spots and look at how other writers are handling them.

Craft Questions in Writing: Are Flashbacks Powerful or Problematic?

Flashbacks can be a gorgeous way to reveal backstory or deepen character motivation. But they can also disorient the reader—especially in the opening chapters.

If you drop a flashback before we even know who your character is or what they want, the story risks losing momentum before it really begins. 

That doesn’t mean flashbacks are off-limits. But they need to be anchored in the present storyline and driven by something specific. A sensory trigger. A conflict. A decision that evokes the past. One writer in our group recently cut a two-page memory dump and replaced it with a single, emotionally charged sentence. The result? We understood why the character was acting the way she did, without stopping the story cold.

First Pages: What Really Matters

Writers tend to either obsess over their first page—or avoid it altogether.

But the truth is, your opening only needs to do a few specific things well. It doesn’t need to summarize your whole novel. It doesn’t need to be poetic perfection. It needs to hook the reader, establish voice, and give us a hint of what’s at stake.

In our Hooked from the Start sessions, we look at first pages all the time. And almost every successful one does this: it creates a question in the reader’s mind. Not necessarily a mystery, but something that makes us want to keep reading.

If you’re not sure your opening is working, ask:

• Am I grounding the reader in place and time?
• Do we understand what the character wants (even if they don’t)?
• Is there tension—internal or external—on the page?
  

Hint: If your first scene starts with someone waking up and brushing their teeth, you might want to dig a little deeper.

Filler Scenes: How to Spot and Cut Them

Here’s a brutal truth: if you’re bored while writing a scene, your reader will be bored while reading it.

We’ve all been there. You know something has to happen, but the writing feels lifeless. The dialogue circles. The characters walk from one place to another with nothing meaningful exchanged. These are often transition scenes—or what we call “filler.”

How do you fix it?

One approach is to skip the scene entirely. Just write “TK” in the margin (journalism shorthand for “to come”) and move on. You can always circle back later with fresh eyes.

Another is to start the scene later. As in, three lines before the punchline. Cut the lead-up. Land in the middle of the moment. That trick alone has saved many a scene from the chopping block.

Or, combine scenes. If two back-to-back scenes have the same tone or purpose, ask: could they be one, tighter scene? Watch for places where your energy drops as a writer. That’s often your gut telling you something needs to change.

Tips From the Group: Handling Craft Questions in Writing

Some of our favorite revision hacks from the Mindful Writing Community:

• Use action during dialogue to keep things moving.
• Cut the transitions—start at the conflict, not the commute.
• Read scenes aloud to catch clunky pacing or awkward phrasings.
• Write “TK” and keep going. Forward motion is everything.
• Reverse-outline after each draft to spot repetition or slow pacing.
  

Keep in mind that you don’t have to solve everything in one pass. Just identify where things drag and get curious about why.

Drop a comment or bring your questions to the next mastermind — I’d love to hear what you’re working through. Chances are, someone else is wrestling with the same thing—and together, you’ll find the next best step.