You’re supposed to write what you like to read. And for the most part, I do.
But, I have a confession to make. Even in books I like to read, I skimp (skim/skip) some parts. One of those sections is the “action” scenes.
No matter what people write– Vampires vs. Werewolves or Orucii vs. Elves and Men, I pretty much read it as Batman action comics:
Maybe it’s the Mom in me. I don’t care who started it, just tell me where you’re bleeding and if I need to haul ass to the ER or not.
I don’t care how many arms the lake leviathan had before it dunked Frodo in the nasty swamp.
I don’t care how many days the Orucii laid siege to Helm’s Deep or how many trillions of arrows were shot or tanker cars of boiling oil were poured. I. Don’t. Care.
Bad stuff happened, let’s assess and move on.
The problem is that other people care. Most people aren’t me, so they want to know more than BIFF, BOOM, POW!
They want to know WHAT HAPPENED.
At this point, nobody know’s what happens next. I’m gonna just make some stuff up and see how it goes.