Pacing in narrative texts

This is one of the aspects of writing that is, at first glance, more obscure than any of the others (except for ‘show, don’t tell’) but becomes a bit clearer once you’ve had a good teacher explain it to you. I’ve been lucky enough to have explored this with several teachers, and read a few books, and, while I still make mistakes, over and over again, at least now I know where I went wrong (sometimes) and how to fix it. So, here’s what I’ve learnt about pacing in narrative texts.

Every narrative has a pulse. There’s a time when we want the reader to be breathless and rushing forward to the next act, and there is a time when we want the reader to slow down, think, reflect. But it is not just about speed. It’s about rhythm, proportion and the deliberate orchestration of tension and release. In this post, I’ll try to explore how pacing operates at both macro and micro levels, how it shapes reader experience and how as writers we can manage its nuances to serve our narrative intent.

Pacing refers to the tempo at which a story unfolds. It’s shaped by:

Scene length and structure
Sentence rhythm and syntax
Balance between action and exposition
Narrative density (number of events and characters per page)
Reader perception of time versus story time

As Reedsy’s Dario Villirilli notes, pacing affects mood, theme development and character connection. It’s not a fixed metric; it’s a dynamic interplay between what’s told, how it’s told and how long it takes to tell it.

So, all we have to do is get the balance right, right?

But how?

Writing teachers often refer to macro and micro pacing, and we need to get the balance right between these two.

1. Macro pacing refers to the overall tempo of the entire narrative. This includes the overall structure, chapter lengths and how time is distributed across the story. One example is Leo Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilych. The novella opens with a brief scene of lawyers discussing Ivan’s death, then races through 44 years of his life in 11 pages. But when Ivan falls ill, the narrative slows dramatically, devoting 35 pages to his final three months and lingering over his last moments in detail. Tolstoy’s pacing mirrors Ivan’s existential shift: from bureaucratic routine to profound reckoning. The effect is both structural and emotional, where the pacing reflects thematic depth.

2. Micro pacing refers to the tempo within individual scenes. This includes sentence length, dialogue, internal monologue and descriptive detail. A scene’s pace depends on its narrative function and emotional weight. Is it introducing a character, delivering a twist or meandering on reflection? For example, scenes that introduce characters or domestic settings often unfold slowly, allowing readers to absorb nuance. In contrast, action scenes can be rapid-fire, although sometimes they are deliberately slowed to heighten suspense.

But how do I do that?

One of the most powerful tools for controlling pace is the choice between scene and summary:

Scenes dramatize events in real time, with dialogue, action, and setting.
Summaries compress time, conveying background or transitions efficiently.

Most narratives include both modes, as required by the narrative. Writers dramatize key moments and summarize connective tissue. The trick is knowing when to linger and when to leap. One good example from filmography is the second Terminator movie. It starts off with neck-breaking scenes of pursuit. It would be pretty boring if the whole movie was at that pace though. So, when they find a hideout to recover and gather weapons, the pace slows down, focussing on some backstory, their relationships and ruminating about the future of a world led by robots.

An example from literature would be Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. John le Carré slows the climactic scene to a crawl. The spy George Smiley waits in a safe house, gun in hand, anticipating the arrival of a traitor. The moment, just seconds in real time, is stretched across pages, each detail magnified to wring suspense. The pacing here is almost cruel, forcing readers to sweat alongside Smiley.

Techniques for Controlling Pacing

Drawing from from works by James Wood, John Gardner and James Hynes, I’ve collated here some strategies that can help shape pace:

1. Vary sentence structure

Short, punchy sentences quicken pace.
Long, complex sentences slow it down.

2. Use dialogue and action

Dialogue speeds things up.
Internal monologue and description slow it down.

3. Balance action and reflection

Alternate high-stakes scenes with quieter moments.
Use “breathers” to deepen character and theme.

4. Manage scene length

Short scenes create urgency.
Long scenes allow immersion.

5. Incorporate subplots

Subplots can slow pace and add depth.
They also offer contrast to main plot momentum.

6. Guide reader emotion

Use pacing to control tension and release.
Slow down before emotional reveals; speed up during escapes or confrontations.

Narrative density: a hidden factor

Pacing isn’t just about time; it’s about density. A short story covering decades may feel fast-paced if it’s packed with events. A long novel spanning days may feel slow if it dwells on internal reflection.

Ask yourself:

How many incidents occur per chapter?
How many characters are introduced?
How much exposition is layered into each scene?

High density creates momentum. Low density invites contemplation.

Writing exercise: experimenting with pace

I’ve adapted this exercise from James Hynes:

Select one incident from something you’ve written. Rewrite it three ways:

As a summary
As a close third-person scene
As a long dialogue exchange

Compare how each version affects tone, tension and reader engagement. Which one best serves your narrative intent?

This exercise reveals how pacing isn’t just a technical choice. It’s a storytelling decision that shapes meaning.

More literary examples of pacing

1. The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

Dan Brown is known for his fast-paced thrillers. In The Da Vinci Code, he uses short chapters, cliffhangers and rapid dialogue to keep readers turning pages. The pacing mimics the urgency of the mystery, with alternating bursts of action and slower expository scenes that reveal historical context.

3. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Austen balances pacing through subplots and emotional introspection. While the main romance between Elizabeth and Darcy unfolds gradually, other plotlines, like Lydia’s elopement or Mr. Collins’s proposal, add variety to the tempo. Austen also uses letters as a device to slow the pace and deepen emotional insight.

4. The Necklace by Guy de Maupassant

In just a few pages, Maupassant compresses years of hardship. The pacing is brisk but emotionally rich. He uses summary to cover ten years of poverty after the protagonist loses a borrowed necklace, then delivers a slow, poignant twist at the end. The contrast between rapid narrative and emotional weight is striking.

5. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Dickens begins with slow, reflective exposition—long sentences and tangents that establish mood and character. But as the ghosts arrive, the pacing quickens. Each visitation brings urgency and revelation, culminating in Scrooge’s transformation. Dickens modulates pace to mirror emotional intensity.

6. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Collins alternates between fast-paced action in the arena and slower, reflective scenes where Katniss contemplates survival, morality, and relationships. This balance allows readers to catch their breath and connect with the protagonist, while maintaining suspense.

7. Beloved by Toni Morrison

Morrison’s pacing is deliberately fragmented. She uses nonlinear structure, poetic language, and shifting perspectives to slow the narrative and deepen emotional resonance. Scenes of trauma are often slowed to a crawl, forcing readers to sit with discomfort and memory.