When an author successfully places a story on the page, it comes alive in the reader’s mind, and the reader will “see” what the author sees. In my writing groups, I’ve seen a lot of new writers make the mistake of starting a new chapter with tons of dialogue but neglect to set the scene. The author may have a headful of colorful ideas, but the reader only sees a white empty stage. I call it empty stage syndrome. I’ve taken a scene at the top of chapter 2 from one of my current projects, Hazel, and created a white empty stage below to illustrate:

“Praise be, you’re awake.” She turned with a wave of nausea. Her mother was seated in the grass beside her, kneading a bloodstained mobcap.
At once a thunderous splintering pierced the night as the house’s roof suddenly caved in.
Hazel struggled to stand and then touched the slippery moisture gathering on her neck. She didn’t need a looking glass to know that her face was a bloody mess.
Sarah’s little hand slid into her own. “Mama said she’s going to fetch the doctor.”
“The bleeding’s stopped…” Hazel’s eyes fluttered against the pain. “I’m in need of a bandage not a doctor.”

The reader has to guess a lot of details. The family is observing the house caving in, so they probably aren’t in the dining room. But the time of day isn’t clear, neither is the family’s surroundings. The stage hasn’t been set. In the above scene, I’ve forced the reader to look at the family through a narrow tunnel. Every chapter is a brand-new scene, and the setting deserves be properly illustrated. Doing so will make the difference between a good scene and a great scene. Here is the same scene again with the stage set:

Hazel peered through her lashes confused by the searing pain. It was difficult to think much less understand why she was lying outside in the cold, dark grass. With a string of coughs, she lifted her head, and a thick haze of smoke drew into her nostrils. Egad. She suddenly remembered it all: the fire, Violet, and the collapsing staircase.
Hundreds of yards away, her beautiful home was ablaze like a leering black jack o’ lantern. Enormous flames waved and snapped furiously in every direction. It was the most dreadful of storms, taking place under a blanket of stars and without the tiniest puff of wind.
Nearby, some of the field hands had gathered to watch the inferno with shining black eyes.
“Praise be, you’re awake.” She turned with a wave of nausea. Her mother was seated in the grass beside her, kneading a bloodstained mobcap. Her small brown eyes glowed like an opossum in the flickering light. On the other side of her mother, the entire family was gathered in their sooty nightclothes. Everyone was mesmerized by the flames.
At once a thunderous splintering pierced the night as the house’s roof suddenly caved in. The scene was beyond anything she could have imagined.
An hour earlier, her father had been reading William Blake. “No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.” After the reading, everyone had gone to bed.
Hazel struggled to stand and then touched the slippery moisture gathering on her neck. She didn’t need a looking glass to know that her face was a bloody mess.
Sarah’s little hand slid into her own. “Mama said she’s going to fetch the doctor.”
“The bleeding’s stopped…” Hazel’s eyes fluttered against the pain. “I’m in need of a bandage not a doctor.”

This opening to this scene is now a lot longer, but the reader can now see that everyone is outside, it’s nighttime, and there’s a better visual on what the house looks like. I hope that the reader feels like they are sitting in the grass with the Robbin’s family and smelling the smoke right along with the family.

The new writer should not make the mistake of explaining too much setting, neither should they put too much importance on the kind of trees in the yard, the color of the fence, or the details of what everyone is wearing. These information dumps feel like an unpleasant pill that must be swallowed before the reader gets to the good stuff. Keep it brief. The investment of a few key words such as ‘field hands’ allows the reader’s mind to fill in the details such as: patched clothes, a barn, and even some fields in the background without spelling any of it out.

The author should always be adding to the stage as a scene develops. A few strategic sentences and adjectives mixed in with the dialogue is a clever way to give the readers little glimpses here and there and should always be utilized throughout a scene. For example, Hazel later encounters the men who set the fire to the family’s home.

Hazel’s attention pulled towards the darkness as a crowd of men emerged from behind the newly constructed indigo vats.

By mentioning an indigo vat, the reader automatically sees a plantation at least in part, and maybe other buildings. Squeeze in those little details where you can to add color to your story.

If you do start your story or chapter with dialogue, I’d suggest mixing in your setting rather quickly as you go. It’s frustrating as a reader to have no visual or sense of place in mind. The reader should never have to guess where a conversation is taking place and the setting should never be revealed at the very end of a scene. Hope this helps to avoid the mistake of empty stage syndrome.