Some writers believe that dialogue is all about the characters – what they say, how they say it, and what they’re doing as they speak. If you’re one of those writers, you are almost correct. Yes, dialogue is about your characters. But more importantly, dialogue is the voice of your entire book.
Let’s look at it this way. You will lose huge readership potential if you only use dialogue to make your characters speak during scenes. A brilliant plot may be worthless without good dialogue.
The Purpose of Dialogue
“What are you doing here?” said Sally. “You’re supposed to be at work.”
What is going on here? You might follow up with some narration that describes Sally’s situation. Maybe she’s upset that this person is not working, or perhaps she is happy or surprised.
“What are you doing here?” said Sally, frowning slightly. “You’re supposed to be at work.”
A smile spread across Sally’s face. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work.”
Sally’s eyes grew very wide. “What are you doing here?” she said, choking on her iced tea. “You’re supposed to be at work.”
Without narration, we know how Sally feels in each of the three scenarios. In each case, the dialogue serves the purpose of making the character speak, informing the reader as to what is going on, and the feeling and emotions involved in the situation.
Most writers know the power of dialogue, but it’s easy to forget in the heat of a powerful plot. Remember, too much narration is boring. Instead of pages and pages of narration describing what’s going on, make your characters act it out instead. When narrating, you have to lay everything out on the table – what happened, how it happened, what the characters are thinking, and how the characters feel. Use the perfect blend of dialogue and narration to create an effective story.
Don’t Tell Them – Let the Characters Speak
You might feel compelled to describe scenery and image through narration. You can certainly do so, but don’t go over the top. Painting pictures with words is a true art, but ten pages of image descriptions will have your readers yawning. You can incorporate narration and dialogue to paint the perfect image.
There’s a huge difference between telling the story through narration, and the characters telling the story through dialogue and thoughts. When your characters are interacting, the story is always more interesting. How many times have you told a funny incident to your friends and they didn’t find it funny? Many times, you just have to be there to get the joke. It’s the same for your book. Let your characters act it out. Even in narration, always include your characters’ thoughts and emotions.
Who Said It?
“I apologize I could not hear a thing. She closed the door so that I was unable to hear their conversation.”
“What would you like me to do?”
Just imagine an average 10-year-old American boy saying the above phrases. It hardly fits at all! Our 10-year-old Johnny would say it more like this:
“Sorry, didn’t hear anything. She closed the door so I didn’t hear what they said.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Similarly so, a macho-man would never use the words “mauve”, “cashmere”, “baby blue”, or “bunny rabbit”. When it comes to speech, gender matters. Determine whether your characters are male or female, then decide whether they will be masculine male, feminine female, or vice versa. Perhaps you have a masculine female character to portray her life with her father and five brothers. You decide, but make sure their speech fits the part.
Your characters’ way of speaking should fit their age, sex, class, level of intelligence and location. Use regional slang for your character who grew up in the mean streets of New York. If your character was born and raised in England, perhaps words such as “loo” or “lift” naturally belong in her vocabulary. Your character’s education is also important. For someone who has no formal education, grammar and vocabulary may not be perfect. Whatever situation your characters are in, their way of speaking should be a natural fit.
As a word of caution, use regional slang wisely. It should work well with the time period your story is set in. And it has to be used correctly, and in the right context or your book may not please certain readers. It might pay to study or even visit the area where your story will take place, if it exists. Research everything about your character to see how he or she should speak.
Play it by Ear
After your dialogue is written, read it out loud. You’ll see that saying it and writing it will produce a different effect. What sounds good on paper might not sound so great when said out loud.
Watch out for awkward dialogue. If it doesn’t sound right, you don’t want to use it in your book unless it happens to fit your character. A tape recorder may help you in the process. Record each piece of dialogue you aren’t sure about and listen to it a few times. When you finally find the right words, record and listen to your new dialogue. And in any given scene, make sure the dialogue flows well together.
Take note that you might end up changing your dialogue two, three, or 100 times. It’s this kind of attention to detail that matters to your publisher. All in all, your dialogue should sound great. Your readers will love and appreciate it.
Showing posts with label Dialogue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dialogue. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Creative Writing Tips: Dialogue, Style
Dialogue
This should be the easiest part of writing. After all, we learn to speak at a young age and practise that skill for the rest of our lives. Unfortunately it doesn't seem to work that way, the reason being that speech looks different when it is written down.
The key point to writing good dialogue is to make it as natural as possible. Normal conversation is not generally grammatically perfect. It is full of hesitations, repetition, um's and er's. Sentences are often left incompleted or hanging. However, you can't write dialogue like that and expect your readers to follow it. They will lose interest after the fourth 'um'. So you need to find the balance between perfect English and conversational English. The best way to do that is to know your characters and what they would say, and most importantly to listen to people around you.
The Purpose of Dialogue
Okay, obviously dialogue is used to communicate something (either to the reader or another character within the story) but the critical function of dialogue is to drive the plot forward. There is no room in a short story for unnecessary words. They must have a reason for being there. If they don't, take them out.
Dialogue is a crucial part of every character. The way they speak and what they say can be as revealing as a physical description. Be acreful not to let your own voice (the authorial voice) creep in. If you have something important to say to the reader, by all means say it through your characters but let it be in their voice. Readers do not like being lectured. Except when reading pages on writing tips, that is...
Dialogue alters the rhythm of a story. Short sentences without narrative increase the pace, whereas longwinded speeches may slow it down. When you reach a crisis in the story it is worth using dialogue to increase the tension, action or suspense.
Writing Dialogue
Make it natural and keep it pithy. Try to avoid writing phonetically. It is distracting to the reader and sometimes unintelligible. If you wish a character to have an accent, simply tell the reader they have one. The rhythm of their speech will do more much to convey this than any oddly spelled words.
Who Said What and How
It is perfectly acceptable to use 'he said/ she said' in order to attribute speech to a particular character. Don't overdo it but remember that he/ she said becomes invisible to the reader after a while. Alternatively you can use other verbs, eg. she snapped, he drawled, she whispered, he murmured. A word of advice, use these sparingly. If the dialogue is well written it should convey how the words were said to the reader, without the need for any of the above.
Long periods of dialogue require the occasional indicator of who is speaking otherwise the reader may lose track. Once the reader has to backtrack and count the lines of dialogue to establish the identity of the speaker you have lost them. Slipping someone's name into the dialogue is possibly the simplest way of keeping readers on track. eg. you have Sam and Anna speaking, so every now and then have Sam say "...., Anna." or vice versa.
Lastly
Try to get into the habit of reading your work out loud, or even better have someone read it back to you. Flaws in the dialogue will soon become obvious.
Style
What is Style?
Style is the way you use words and sentences. Many new writers worry unnecessarily about it. Let your style develop naturally, don't try to force it. Everyone has style the moment they put pen to paper. The big question is whether it is a good or bad style and since this is often a matter of personal taste the simplest thing is not to worry about it. As a rule, the less obtrusive your style the better. If it can be flexible, even better. Different markets require different styles of writing.
The reader should be more interested in what you are saying rather than how you say it.
A Few Simple Suggestions
Keep your writing simple and straightforward. Say what you want to say in the clearest and most direct fashion.
Avoid long words if a shorter one is available.
Avoid cluttering your work with too many adjectives, adverbs, metaphors and similes. It is very tempting as a new writer to overwhelm your narrative with descriptions. Try to resist.
Avoid cliches.
Make sure you have selected the right tense for your story and keep it consistent. All verbs must agree with the chosen tense.
Repetition of a word or phrase can be highly effective but try to avoid overdoing it.
Choose strong words. As a rule, these words have more specific meanings eg. oak as opposed to tree. Concrete nouns are stronger than abstract nouns eg. sunset versus beauty.
Wherever possible, avoid the passive tense. Have your characters do something, rather than have something done to them.
Vary your writing. Contrast will highlight the strengths. For instance, if the entire story is pacy, strong or dramatic, these qualities may be overwhelmed to the point at which they become weaknesses. Don't forget to vary sentence structure and length.
Above all, good writing should be fluent. Many factors contribute to the rhythm of a story. The easiest way to evaluate this fluency is to read the story aloud.
This should be the easiest part of writing. After all, we learn to speak at a young age and practise that skill for the rest of our lives. Unfortunately it doesn't seem to work that way, the reason being that speech looks different when it is written down.
The key point to writing good dialogue is to make it as natural as possible. Normal conversation is not generally grammatically perfect. It is full of hesitations, repetition, um's and er's. Sentences are often left incompleted or hanging. However, you can't write dialogue like that and expect your readers to follow it. They will lose interest after the fourth 'um'. So you need to find the balance between perfect English and conversational English. The best way to do that is to know your characters and what they would say, and most importantly to listen to people around you.
The Purpose of Dialogue
Okay, obviously dialogue is used to communicate something (either to the reader or another character within the story) but the critical function of dialogue is to drive the plot forward. There is no room in a short story for unnecessary words. They must have a reason for being there. If they don't, take them out.
Dialogue is a crucial part of every character. The way they speak and what they say can be as revealing as a physical description. Be acreful not to let your own voice (the authorial voice) creep in. If you have something important to say to the reader, by all means say it through your characters but let it be in their voice. Readers do not like being lectured. Except when reading pages on writing tips, that is...
Dialogue alters the rhythm of a story. Short sentences without narrative increase the pace, whereas longwinded speeches may slow it down. When you reach a crisis in the story it is worth using dialogue to increase the tension, action or suspense.
Writing Dialogue
Make it natural and keep it pithy. Try to avoid writing phonetically. It is distracting to the reader and sometimes unintelligible. If you wish a character to have an accent, simply tell the reader they have one. The rhythm of their speech will do more much to convey this than any oddly spelled words.
Who Said What and How
It is perfectly acceptable to use 'he said/ she said' in order to attribute speech to a particular character. Don't overdo it but remember that he/ she said becomes invisible to the reader after a while. Alternatively you can use other verbs, eg. she snapped, he drawled, she whispered, he murmured. A word of advice, use these sparingly. If the dialogue is well written it should convey how the words were said to the reader, without the need for any of the above.
Long periods of dialogue require the occasional indicator of who is speaking otherwise the reader may lose track. Once the reader has to backtrack and count the lines of dialogue to establish the identity of the speaker you have lost them. Slipping someone's name into the dialogue is possibly the simplest way of keeping readers on track. eg. you have Sam and Anna speaking, so every now and then have Sam say "...., Anna." or vice versa.
Lastly
Try to get into the habit of reading your work out loud, or even better have someone read it back to you. Flaws in the dialogue will soon become obvious.
Style
What is Style?
Style is the way you use words and sentences. Many new writers worry unnecessarily about it. Let your style develop naturally, don't try to force it. Everyone has style the moment they put pen to paper. The big question is whether it is a good or bad style and since this is often a matter of personal taste the simplest thing is not to worry about it. As a rule, the less obtrusive your style the better. If it can be flexible, even better. Different markets require different styles of writing.
The reader should be more interested in what you are saying rather than how you say it.
A Few Simple Suggestions
Keep your writing simple and straightforward. Say what you want to say in the clearest and most direct fashion.
Avoid long words if a shorter one is available.
Avoid cluttering your work with too many adjectives, adverbs, metaphors and similes. It is very tempting as a new writer to overwhelm your narrative with descriptions. Try to resist.
Avoid cliches.
Make sure you have selected the right tense for your story and keep it consistent. All verbs must agree with the chosen tense.
Repetition of a word or phrase can be highly effective but try to avoid overdoing it.
Choose strong words. As a rule, these words have more specific meanings eg. oak as opposed to tree. Concrete nouns are stronger than abstract nouns eg. sunset versus beauty.
Wherever possible, avoid the passive tense. Have your characters do something, rather than have something done to them.
Vary your writing. Contrast will highlight the strengths. For instance, if the entire story is pacy, strong or dramatic, these qualities may be overwhelmed to the point at which they become weaknesses. Don't forget to vary sentence structure and length.
Above all, good writing should be fluent. Many factors contribute to the rhythm of a story. The easiest way to evaluate this fluency is to read the story aloud.
Monday, November 5, 2007
"Rounding Out" Your Characters
Rounded characters are essential to every good story; make yours "pop"!
Think about one of your favorite classic stories in fiction. Something you enjoyed reading more than anything else as a child, over and over again. Was it Alice in Wonderland? Treasure Island? Black Beauty? Some Nancy Drew mystery? The Adventures of Peter Rabbit?
Now ask yourself why you enjoyed reading that story so much. The answer is nearly always the same. The main characters.
Characters are important to the reader. They are what the reader identifies and empathizes with; they are what the reader loves to love ... or hate. Many great stories with weak plots, shoddy descriptive passages, and marginal dialogue have relied for their greatness solely on characterization. If you don't believe me, go back and read Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises or The Old Man and the Sea. Papa's works are notoriously weak on story line and only marginal on description and dialogue. Where Hemingway works his magic is through his characters. When he writes about Ezra Pound or Gertrude Stein, about F. Scott Fitzgerald or even the ubiquitous Brett, we develop a love/hate relationship with those characters that is strong enough to keep us coming back, looking for more pages to turn.
So, how do you get from here to there? How do you take a blank screen and fill it with lovable (or at least empathetic) characters? Let's take a look at some of the things that have always worked for me.
See Your Characters!
First and foremost, you need to take the time to visualize your characters, one by one. See them in your mind. Ask yourself what it is about their looks that makes them stand out, that makes you notice them in a crowd. Come up with some mental images of each character. How does he look dressed casually, formally, and ready for bed? How does he look not dressed at all?
How do his eyes move? Do they dart around quickly, like those of an anxious ferret, or are they slow to move, cautious, hesitant to be seen in the eyes of others? How does he stand? How does he hold his hands? What does his mouth look like? Can you equate that mouth with something non-human (a "gaping hole" is a bit trite; how about a "great sandstone cavern of epic proportions")? Often, equating a human physical trait with a non-human feature enables the reader to conjure up a whole boatload of visual images in just a few words.
Show Your Characters!
Once you've come to see your character physically in your own mind, it's time to sketch him out in a few short paragraphs of descriptive passage that match your own internal vision. Here's an example from The Death and Life of Hymie Stiehl:
These two short grafs say as much about the physical appearance of the man as anything; yet, in doing so, they also reveal something about his character and internal motivation. Just a touch of vanity appears to reside in this character, which we learn when he tries to expand the insignificant slivers of his lips to make himself look more the role of personified greatness.
Notice, however revealing the paragraphs are, that they are not overwhelming. The reader doesn't need to know every physical aspect of the character all at once--and, in fact, he doesn't want to. Just as we come to observe things about the real people around us over an extended continuum of time, so, too, must the writer reveal those things about his characters at a staggered pace, a little at a time. Dumping seventeen pages of physical description on the reader at once would not only place an unbearable burden on the reader's retentive powers, but also would destroy the flow of the story.
So, you'll need to work in additional descriptive passages as the opportunities present themselves. Here is something that appears elsewhere in the same book about the same character:
Now we know a little more about the looks of this character. As a bonus, we also know a bit about the physical appearance of the student to whom the narrator is talking, as well as about some of the habits of our main character. In particular, he smokes a cigar, has quick-moving eyes, and lusts after young girls in tight dresses.
Be Your Characters!
Once you've envisioned your character's physical traits in your mind and written them down to share with your reader, it's time for you to become your character. Step into his shoes. Learn what motivates him, how he reacts to certainly stimuli around him. After all, if a character were developed simply by describing his physical attributes, writing would be damned easy stuff.
No, we must actually get into the character's persona, give him a personality, much as an actor studying a role would do. Writers are, after all, little more than actors off-stage. So let's act!
Here, the reader learns that the character is more complex than originally revealed. And, perhaps, just a tad superficial ("What's your name again?"). He's also not above laying out a little trash, as when he claims to have read D.J.'s stuff, then quickly adds "Some of it" without being able to recall where. Notice that, even though the main elements of physical description had been laid out earlier in the book, new bits and pieces are constantly emerging, to keep adding to the overall portrait. Here's some more revelation shedding light on Hymie's personality, revealed as he and D.J. attend a college staff party:
Now we're getting some character development! Now the reader knows for sure what he has so long suspected: Hymie is a stitch! A round, full, surprising, surprisingly likable, stitch. He's also a tightwad--relighting a cigar that should have been laid to rest long ago. He's opinionated (putting it mildly). He's selfish, not particularly concerned whether or not the kid loses his job over Hymie's comment. He's animated, talking with his hands as he barks directions at the cabbie.
These grafs also speak worlds about Hymie's character through the words he chooses to use. "Wanna" instead of "want to." "Nothin'" instead of "nothing." "Ya" instead of "you." All in all, within the relatively short space of a dozen or so pages, the reader learns that Hymie is crude, boorish, educated, selfish, vulgar, opinionated, self-confident, perpetually horny, rough, gruff, and--throughout it all--somehow likable. And, remember, it's only the beginning of a portrait of a strong, well-rounded, living, breathing character that is as real as any we've ever met in life. From here on out, the reader is hooked. Hymie is reason enough for the reader to continue turning the pages, if for no other purpose than to find out what extraordinary things he's going to do--or say--next.
And that's exactly what a round character in a work of fiction is supposed to make us do.
Think about one of your favorite classic stories in fiction. Something you enjoyed reading more than anything else as a child, over and over again. Was it Alice in Wonderland? Treasure Island? Black Beauty? Some Nancy Drew mystery? The Adventures of Peter Rabbit?
Now ask yourself why you enjoyed reading that story so much. The answer is nearly always the same. The main characters.
Characters are important to the reader. They are what the reader identifies and empathizes with; they are what the reader loves to love ... or hate. Many great stories with weak plots, shoddy descriptive passages, and marginal dialogue have relied for their greatness solely on characterization. If you don't believe me, go back and read Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises or The Old Man and the Sea. Papa's works are notoriously weak on story line and only marginal on description and dialogue. Where Hemingway works his magic is through his characters. When he writes about Ezra Pound or Gertrude Stein, about F. Scott Fitzgerald or even the ubiquitous Brett, we develop a love/hate relationship with those characters that is strong enough to keep us coming back, looking for more pages to turn.
So, how do you get from here to there? How do you take a blank screen and fill it with lovable (or at least empathetic) characters? Let's take a look at some of the things that have always worked for me.
See Your Characters!
First and foremost, you need to take the time to visualize your characters, one by one. See them in your mind. Ask yourself what it is about their looks that makes them stand out, that makes you notice them in a crowd. Come up with some mental images of each character. How does he look dressed casually, formally, and ready for bed? How does he look not dressed at all?
How do his eyes move? Do they dart around quickly, like those of an anxious ferret, or are they slow to move, cautious, hesitant to be seen in the eyes of others? How does he stand? How does he hold his hands? What does his mouth look like? Can you equate that mouth with something non-human (a "gaping hole" is a bit trite; how about a "great sandstone cavern of epic proportions")? Often, equating a human physical trait with a non-human feature enables the reader to conjure up a whole boatload of visual images in just a few words.
Show Your Characters!
Once you've come to see your character physically in your own mind, it's time to sketch him out in a few short paragraphs of descriptive passage that match your own internal vision. Here's an example from The Death and Life of Hymie Stiehl:
I quickly surveyed his large, bulging eyes, puffed out and encircled by several rings of time, then let my gaze drift across his thick, meaty face to his nose—a great bulbous affair that shone bluish-grey in the cast of a long bank of fluorescent lights stretched out overhead. Running from one side of his nose to the other were scores of tiny blue-green lines—ribbons of highway seen from a jetliner, at first barely visible from high above the city, then growing ever larger and more prominent with each passing second until they threatened to explode into a billion shards of concrete and shattered steel.
His mouth was the only thing about him that did not seem too large for his overall carriage. Not his mouth, exactly, but his lips. Two thin lines that, later when I got to know him, I would see purse out in an effort to expand their size, as though he knew these mere slivers of pastel were the one feature out of keeping with his greatness and set about to change them.
These two short grafs say as much about the physical appearance of the man as anything; yet, in doing so, they also reveal something about his character and internal motivation. Just a touch of vanity appears to reside in this character, which we learn when he tries to expand the insignificant slivers of his lips to make himself look more the role of personified greatness.
Notice, however revealing the paragraphs are, that they are not overwhelming. The reader doesn't need to know every physical aspect of the character all at once--and, in fact, he doesn't want to. Just as we come to observe things about the real people around us over an extended continuum of time, so, too, must the writer reveal those things about his characters at a staggered pace, a little at a time. Dumping seventeen pages of physical description on the reader at once would not only place an unbearable burden on the reader's retentive powers, but also would destroy the flow of the story.
So, you'll need to work in additional descriptive passages as the opportunities present themselves. Here is something that appears elsewhere in the same book about the same character:
"You know him?" one of my students asked casually as we stood in the hall, talking of literary greatness and how best to achieve it.
"Who?" I asked foolishly, following the gaze of a pimply faced young literary radical down the corridor to a stoop-shouldered old goat with pock-marked skin and dead stogie dangling from a pale and puckered mouth. "Him?" I'd known of Hyman Stiehl, the great and famous poet laureate, for years. But who was this? I turned to my student and shrugged, then glanced again at the old man. His steel-blue eyes met mine briefly, then darted away, speeding off down the hall where they came to rest on the sylvan form of a young maiden in a tight-fitting green knit dress.
Now we know a little more about the looks of this character. As a bonus, we also know a bit about the physical appearance of the student to whom the narrator is talking, as well as about some of the habits of our main character. In particular, he smokes a cigar, has quick-moving eyes, and lusts after young girls in tight dresses.
Be Your Characters!
Once you've envisioned your character's physical traits in your mind and written them down to share with your reader, it's time for you to become your character. Step into his shoes. Learn what motivates him, how he reacts to certainly stimuli around him. After all, if a character were developed simply by describing his physical attributes, writing would be damned easy stuff.
No, we must actually get into the character's persona, give him a personality, much as an actor studying a role would do. Writers are, after all, little more than actors off-stage. So let's act!
“Yeah,” the student replied as the old man turned and took several sure steps toward us. “Hymie Stiehl. You know him? We have coffee together at Francie’s in the mornings.”
“You? You and …” My mouth fell open as I looked from one face to the other.
“Hey-yeah. Pleased to meetcha,” the two thin lips said, quivering lightly as he held out his hand. “What’s your name again?”
“This is D.J.,” the student responded. “You know, the guy I told you about. The writing instructor?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure,” he said. His eyes glowed suddenly brighter and his brows—already sprouting in every conceivable direction—seemed to rise and swell to twice their previous size. “Oh, so you’re D. J. Yeah. I’ve read your stuff. Some of it. A little. In the papers. Or the magazines. Very nice.”
He held out his hand, and I grasped it firmly, surprised at how weak it felt, how light the grip, delicate, effeminate practically.
Here, the reader learns that the character is more complex than originally revealed. And, perhaps, just a tad superficial ("What's your name again?"). He's also not above laying out a little trash, as when he claims to have read D.J.'s stuff, then quickly adds "Some of it" without being able to recall where. Notice that, even though the main elements of physical description had been laid out earlier in the book, new bits and pieces are constantly emerging, to keep adding to the overall portrait. Here's some more revelation shedding light on Hymie's personality, revealed as he and D.J. attend a college staff party:
Suddenly I felt a strange aching in my heart. Not as though I wanted her. More as though I realized I couldn't possibly have her. Not now nor ever. Not so long as she was with Alexis. I felt the need for air; I felt the need for escape; I felt the need to put myself as far from this woman and Alexis and the stink in the room that Hymie had talked about as possible. But now Alexis was talking with him, with Hymie, who seemed to know Alexis from years back. At least from their body language. And now I would have to stay and listen to the chatter, cringe over the bragging, waddle through the bullshit. I would have to watch the overt glances, ache over the subtle touches, struggle beneath the tremendous weight of all the crap Alexis loved to throw around. I'd been to parties at which he was in attendance before. I'd seen him with other goddesses.
Hymie turned his head half toward me as if to whisper a secret. I pulled closer to him so I could hear above the growing din.
"Christ, I wouldn't mind fuckin' her," he said in a voice loud enough to carry to the end of Navy Pier and back, and then he shuffled his feet right past a stunned crowd, parting Alexis and his busty young companion on the way out the door.
I suddenly felt all eyes upon me. My feet clung tenaciously to the floor as if they suddenly had some vested interest in the real estate along North Lake Shore Drive and, as tenants in good standing, were not about to vacate the premises even a second before their lease expired at the end of the month. My face grew redder and hotter by the moment as I realized just how many people, including Alexis, Denise, and the goddess herself, had heard the remark. I didn't say it, I proclaimed via a sheepish grin. Don't look at me, for Chrissake, I didn't say it!!!
But it didn't work. They did look at me, and just about the moment I thought I would die or melt away beneath their hostile stares, my feet grew tired of their inactivity and began shuffling slowly but steadily across the grey-tile floor.
"Have a nice day," I heard my lips mutter to Alexis as I slipped through the door. I found myself winding my way down the stairwell and out through the arched opening leading toward the thick summer air, and when I finally emerged, I could hardly contain my fury.
"Jesus Christ," I shouted as I slipped into the cab and slammed the door behind me. "What the hell did you do that for? It'll be a miracle if I still have a job in the morning. Alexis knows everyone in this town. What the hell did you have to say that for? What the fuck did you say that for???"
"Aww, forget it," Hymie said, fumbling for a match to re-ignite a stogie that he had originally lit in the spring of '46. "They're nothin' but a bunch of horses' asses, anyway. You wanna spend the rest of your life kissing up to them, that's up to you. Me? I got better things to do, thanks. Besides, you always got your night job."
"Oh, yeah," I said. "Right. That's easy for you to say. You've got a secure future. You've got money in the bank. Me? I need this job. You know, to help provide for the little things in life. Food, clothing, shelter. My night job at the ‘Y’ doesn't pay shit."
"Thirty-fifth and Shields," Hymie barked at the cabbie, motioning off to the right as the car shifted into gear and lurched from the curb. "And step on it, will ya?"
Now we're getting some character development! Now the reader knows for sure what he has so long suspected: Hymie is a stitch! A round, full, surprising, surprisingly likable, stitch. He's also a tightwad--relighting a cigar that should have been laid to rest long ago. He's opinionated (putting it mildly). He's selfish, not particularly concerned whether or not the kid loses his job over Hymie's comment. He's animated, talking with his hands as he barks directions at the cabbie.
These grafs also speak worlds about Hymie's character through the words he chooses to use. "Wanna" instead of "want to." "Nothin'" instead of "nothing." "Ya" instead of "you." All in all, within the relatively short space of a dozen or so pages, the reader learns that Hymie is crude, boorish, educated, selfish, vulgar, opinionated, self-confident, perpetually horny, rough, gruff, and--throughout it all--somehow likable. And, remember, it's only the beginning of a portrait of a strong, well-rounded, living, breathing character that is as real as any we've ever met in life. From here on out, the reader is hooked. Hymie is reason enough for the reader to continue turning the pages, if for no other purpose than to find out what extraordinary things he's going to do--or say--next.
And that's exactly what a round character in a work of fiction is supposed to make us do.
Writing Stronger Dialogue
Anyone can put a few words between two quotations marks; but not everyone knows how to make those words sing
Here's a tip you can take to the bank. If you have to describe your character's dialogue to your reader, you're not writing believable dialogue.
Sad but true, and it's all too common a shortcoming in writers of all calibers.
Now, admittedly, different writers handle dialogue differently. That's one of the things that helps to establish a writer's literary voice. It's one of the things that defines his style. But there are effective ways of handling dialogue, and there are ineffective ways. Take a look at this example:
What's wrong with that, you ask? The writer tells us that she screamed and that her voice was shrill. Isn't that merely an example of good descriptive dialogue, of being specific?
Well, it may be specific, but it's not good dialogue--not by a long shot. Why use the word, "shrilly," to get the point across when there's a better, sharper, more effective way of delivering the same message. Take a look at this:
Surprise, surprise. By leaving off the adverb "shrilly" and emphasizing the word "hate" through the use of italics, we've killed two birds with a single deletion. We've economized the writing, and we've strengthened the dialogue. Now, when a reader reads "I hate you!" he gets the message at a glance. In fact, provided there are only two people in the conversation and it's clear who is saying what, you may not need the words, "she screamed," at all, thus strengthening the dialogue even further:
Of course, there are ways to strengthen dialogue without putting words in italics. Take a look at this example:
Short, sweet, and ineffective, pure and simple. Now this:
Wow, totally different words delivering the same message, although the second example does so through the clarity and finality of the words. And there's no awkward explanation needed. Hmmm. You know what? There really is something to this effective dialogue thing.
The Right Stuff
Another way of creating strong, realistic dialogue is by replacing the word, "said," with a stronger, more defined, more graphic word. Here's the weak way:
Now, we have not only weak dialogue, but also weak supporting structure in the explanatory sentence following the quote. A sure way to get around those shortcomings?
Do you see how changing a single word--deciding how the speaker's voice is supposed to sound and then using a more powerful verb to communicate that thought to the reader more effectively--improves the dialogue? A word of caution though when using this technique. Use dialogue-defining verbs such as "snarled" sparingly. Use the general word, "said," as the rule-of-thumb and all other verbs as the exception. See how overusing other verbs can end up sounding stilted:
Ouch! Does that sound a bit awkward, as if the writer is just aching to be precise? As if he's hung up on telling the reader more than he needs to know? Uh-huh, I think so, too. Here's a much simpler way of handling the same exchange:
Notice how leaving out most of the attributes helps to move the dialogue along. Assuming the reader knows there are only two people in the conversation--John and Bill--it's pretty easy to guess who said what after the introductory question is attributed to John.
Rambling Man
By now you're beginning to see how using descriptive words and rambling explanations to illuminate a character's dialogue only weakens the dialogue and slows down the reader's progress. Descriptive passages belong in all writing, of course, but not where dialogue is concerned.
What's that, you ask? What if you have a whole lot of information to get across and don't want to sound as if you're rambling? Check out this example:
Well, there's an easy way around that rambling, disjointed dialogue, too. It's as easy as cutting Mary short, as in this example:
By shortening Mary's dialogue and moving part of what she was feeling out of quotes and into a straight expository sentence, we've made the dialogue crisper and more believable without sacrificing any of the thoughts we wanted to get across--namely, that Mary knew when she wasn't wanted.
I think you get the point. Dialogue has to be crisp, sharp, and pointed to be effective. Once you begin stringing it out in a prolonged effort to drive home all of your thoughts, once you fall into the trap of using adverbs as descriptive modifiers to enhance your dialogue, you've lost game, set, and match.
So, keep your dialogue believable; keep it simple; keep it crisp. You'd be amazed at how far you can go in creating a really strong piece of writing. Make your dialogue ring with the sound of reality, and you'll keep your readers coming back for more.
Here's a tip you can take to the bank. If you have to describe your character's dialogue to your reader, you're not writing believable dialogue.
Sad but true, and it's all too common a shortcoming in writers of all calibers.
Now, admittedly, different writers handle dialogue differently. That's one of the things that helps to establish a writer's literary voice. It's one of the things that defines his style. But there are effective ways of handling dialogue, and there are ineffective ways. Take a look at this example:
"I hate you," she screamed shrilly.
What's wrong with that, you ask? The writer tells us that she screamed and that her voice was shrill. Isn't that merely an example of good descriptive dialogue, of being specific?
Well, it may be specific, but it's not good dialogue--not by a long shot. Why use the word, "shrilly," to get the point across when there's a better, sharper, more effective way of delivering the same message. Take a look at this:
"I hate you!" she screamed.
Surprise, surprise. By leaving off the adverb "shrilly" and emphasizing the word "hate" through the use of italics, we've killed two birds with a single deletion. We've economized the writing, and we've strengthened the dialogue. Now, when a reader reads "I hate you!" he gets the message at a glance. In fact, provided there are only two people in the conversation and it's clear who is saying what, you may not need the words, "she screamed," at all, thus strengthening the dialogue even further:
"I hate you!"
Of course, there are ways to strengthen dialogue without putting words in italics. Take a look at this example:
"I don't want to see you anymore," he said with a defiant, final tone in his voice.
Short, sweet, and ineffective, pure and simple. Now this:
"You're out of here. For good!"
Wow, totally different words delivering the same message, although the second example does so through the clarity and finality of the words. And there's no awkward explanation needed. Hmmm. You know what? There really is something to this effective dialogue thing.
The Right Stuff
Another way of creating strong, realistic dialogue is by replacing the word, "said," with a stronger, more defined, more graphic word. Here's the weak way:
"Bring him to me," he said. There was a certain authority, a terseness to his voice that Charlie couldn't mistake.
Now, we have not only weak dialogue, but also weak supporting structure in the explanatory sentence following the quote. A sure way to get around those shortcomings?
"Bring him to me," he snarled.
Do you see how changing a single word--deciding how the speaker's voice is supposed to sound and then using a more powerful verb to communicate that thought to the reader more effectively--improves the dialogue? A word of caution though when using this technique. Use dialogue-defining verbs such as "snarled" sparingly. Use the general word, "said," as the rule-of-thumb and all other verbs as the exception. See how overusing other verbs can end up sounding stilted:
"What are you doing?" John demanded.
"Washing my feet," Bill explained.
"That's a queer thing to do at this time of night," John offered.
"It's a queer thing to do at any time," Bill proffered.
"I guess so," John admitted.
Ouch! Does that sound a bit awkward, as if the writer is just aching to be precise? As if he's hung up on telling the reader more than he needs to know? Uh-huh, I think so, too. Here's a much simpler way of handling the same exchange:
"What are you doing?" John asked.
"Washing my feet."
"That's a queer thing to do at this time of night."
"It's a queer thing to do at any time."
"I guess so," John said.
Notice how leaving out most of the attributes helps to move the dialogue along. Assuming the reader knows there are only two people in the conversation--John and Bill--it's pretty easy to guess who said what after the introductory question is attributed to John.
Rambling Man
By now you're beginning to see how using descriptive words and rambling explanations to illuminate a character's dialogue only weakens the dialogue and slows down the reader's progress. Descriptive passages belong in all writing, of course, but not where dialogue is concerned.
What's that, you ask? What if you have a whole lot of information to get across and don't want to sound as if you're rambling? Check out this example:
"Go get me my hat and coat so that I can put them on and leave here, because I no longer feel wanted," Mary said.
Well, there's an easy way around that rambling, disjointed dialogue, too. It's as easy as cutting Mary short, as in this example:
"Get my hat and coat," Mary snapped. She knew when she wasn't wanted.
By shortening Mary's dialogue and moving part of what she was feeling out of quotes and into a straight expository sentence, we've made the dialogue crisper and more believable without sacrificing any of the thoughts we wanted to get across--namely, that Mary knew when she wasn't wanted.
I think you get the point. Dialogue has to be crisp, sharp, and pointed to be effective. Once you begin stringing it out in a prolonged effort to drive home all of your thoughts, once you fall into the trap of using adverbs as descriptive modifiers to enhance your dialogue, you've lost game, set, and match.
So, keep your dialogue believable; keep it simple; keep it crisp. You'd be amazed at how far you can go in creating a really strong piece of writing. Make your dialogue ring with the sound of reality, and you'll keep your readers coming back for more.
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