writerjenn

After a couple of recent posts on dialogue, I've discovered I have a little more to say.  (Oh, I probably have a lot more to say, but I won't say it all today!)

I wrote about focusing on interesting and significant conversations, skipping the hi-how-are-you-chitchat.  And I'll stand by that when the chitchat is just chitchat.  But hi-how-are-you-fine can have great significance if we know that the people involved are not fine.  If we know that, in fact, one of them has just witnessed the other committing murder.  If we know that one of them has just found out she's terribly ill, or has won a scholarship the other wanted, or has slept with the other person's spouse.  

Sometimes the unsaid things build tension.  People rarely come right out with all their deepest feelings in conversation, exposing their inner thoughts and analyzing them bluntly.  They're often too busy protecting themselves, rationalizing, trying to fulfill their ambitions.  Many conversations are like a dance, or a test, or a competition.  People don't always say what they mean.  (Think of the scene in Annie Hall where the characters are having a conversation out loud while subtitles reveal their true thoughts.)

As a reader, I love seeing layers, reading between the lines, puzzling over what's really going on.  All of which makes sweeter those rare moments when a character strips away the facade in a moment of unexpected honesty.

For whatever use they may be, here are more thoughts on dialogue . . . 


I try to follow this basic rule: Only write the interesting parts. That holds true for dialogue as well. We don't need to report the "Hi, how are you" parts of conversations, the small talk that serves the cause of politeness in real life but drags a story down to crawling pace. If a conversation isn't contributing to the depth or the forward movement of the story, it doesn't belong.

Most people know that characters should sound different from one another, each speaking with a unique voice. But characters also adjust their voices for their various audiences. If we don't sound the same when talking to our bosses, children, and best friends, why should our characters? Their voices will vary further depending on how the relationship in question is going--whether it's growing or dying, where the balance of power lies.

Dialogue tags (e.g., "he said," "she asked") should be used sparingly, just often enough to help the reader keep track of who's speaking. There's a range of opinions on the constant use of "said." Generally, repetitions of "said" are not considered annoying; it's a word that slips by as blandly as white space on the page. While a liberal use of fancy variations on "said" (with characters "proclaiming," "exclaiming," and yes, "ejaculating") is decidely out of fashion now, I like to use different verbs occasionally. I would estimate that I probably use "said" about 80-90% of the time, with "asked" a distant second place. Once in a while, my characters will sigh, shout, or whisper their remarks (although they don't proclaim, utter or declare). Readers (and writers) seem to have individual preferences and pet peeves about these variants, with some believing that we need never use a substitute verb for "say" if we show how the characters feel. (For example, tears streaming down a character's face would be a hint that her next words are sobbed, while an exclamation point and capital letters let us know the character screamed). I'm all for showing rather than telling, but sometimes verbs such as squeal, shriek, hiss, or drawl can work beautifully. 

We must be wary of monologuists.  Sometimes a character's chatterbox tendencies serve a purpose, letting us know that character is nervous or pompous or selfish or something else.  (I have a character in one of my WIPs who rattles on, and I developed that facet of her quite consciously and carefully.)  But usually, people don't jabber on uninterrupted for paragraphs, and our characters can't get away with it too often either.  (Although it worked for Anne of Green Gables and Hamlet!)

When I linked to Nathan Bransford's dialogue contest the other day, it occurred  to me that I've never posted here about dialogue.  And yet I love to write dialogue.  In fact, that may be why I've overlooked it as a topic.  Since I struggle more with issues such as plot and pacing, I'm more likely to think about those issues, and post about them.  

But here, at long last and for whatever it's worth, are some thoughts about dialogue.

Good dialogue sounds like conversation, but is not an exact reproduction of conversation.  If you've ever read a verbatim transcript of people speaking, you'll have noticed this.  Nonverbal communication is a significant part of real conversation.  This is why the following overheard conversation may sound incomprehensible:
"And so, he, you know--"
"Yeah."
"I was just like, I couldn't even, like--"
"Uh huh."
"Yeah, he's so--"
"Right.  He's like--"
"Yeah, I know!"
but it makes perfect sense to the participants.  When we speak, we may finish a sentence with a gesture, or not finish at all once we see that the other person understands us well enough to finish the sentence in their own minds.  It can be tiresome to list all these nonverbal cues on the printed page, so our job as writers is to fill in the words that are in the participants' minds, the words we wouldn't bother saying if we were interacting face to face.  The same conversation, written as dialogue:
"And so, he, you know, completely ignored me."
"Yeah, I saw."
"I was just, like, stunned.  I couldn't even believe it.  For three weeks he's been calling me and now he acts like, 'Do I know you?'"
"Uh huh."
"He's such a jerk."
"Right.  He's so in love with himself."
"Yeah, I know!"
Aside from finishing the sentences, notice how I slipped in some exposition there too?  This must be done delicately.  One of the easiest ways to ruin dialogue is to plop great chunks of exposition into it, sucking vitality from the writing.  For example:
"Hi, Sally!"
"Hi, Phil.  Where've you been lately?"
"Well, I just finished a cross-country trip where I visited the mother that I haven't seen in thirty years, because I could never forgive her for favoring my brother over me.  But now that I have this brain disease, I've decided that it's time to mend fences, so I packed up the car with my two-year-old bulldog and a cooler full of Sprite, and headed out.  And by the way, about this brain disease, I'm going in for surgery next week, and I sure hope that my fiancee, who's been working on her thesis in Alaska, can come back in time for it.  Oh, and Sally, did you know that I grew up in Columbus, Ohio, where I excelled in math and history?"

Getting back to nonverbal cues: While we can't load up every line with them, they can be a telling way to supplement dialogue:
"How does it feel to be getting married?"
"Great."  Lucy's hands curled around her purse handle, and her eyes drifted past me.
"It's next month, right?"
"Yeah."  Ducking her head, Lucy opened her purse and rummaged inside.  "I know I've got a tissue in here somewhere."

Consider this scene with the same spoken words, but different actions:
"How does it feel to be getting married?"
"Great."  Lucy beamed at me.
"It's next month, right?"
"Yeah."  She hugged herself, her eyes glistening.  Then, laughing,  she began to hunt through her purse.  "I know I've got a tissue in here somewhere."

I haven't even gotten into the whole "said" thing, and using dialogue to differentiate characters, but I think I'll save that for another time.   I'll make this post a Part 1, and plunge back into my work in progress now.