This weekend I spent some quality time with my Kindle (which I am thinking I should take to calling my new BFF –my husband, however, has another name suggestion: the money suck. Ahem, anyway…) My BFF’s lovely WiFi store turned me onto a previously unknown (well, unknown to me, at any rate) gem: the free ebook –so there, Big H; it does not always suck money out of the bank account!* Unfortunately, one chapter in and I began to understand why this book might be free, or to be precise, I began to be grateful that the book was free, since had I paid for it, I’d be mighty ticked. It –to use a favorite out of the husband vernacular- sucked.
Determining why the book sucked was harder to pinpoint. The writing wasn’t terrible –and I’m talking about the writer’s ability to string words together; obviously if the book sucked, then there is something very wrong with the writing. The plot was okay. Characters…well, they were interesting enough. Certainly, there wasn’t anything glaring on these counts. But there was just something so…blah. I simply did not care. My mind wandered by page five and kept wandering. Why?
Two main reasons, I think. One: lack of tension. In fact, there were two books I picked up this week and promptly dropped because there was absolutely ZIPPO tension. But I’m not going to talk about tension here because we already have a few really good posts on tension (look up Jen’s, if you’re interested). Which brings me to the second glaring fault in my sucky ebook: bad and lacking dialogue. The whole of chapter one had about two lines of dialogue, the rest being line after line of droning internal monologue and descriptive but uninformative prose.
Now, I’ve read some really good books where dialogue is sparse. Here’s the thing, these pieces of craft we writers discuss: dialogue, prose, backstory, tension, character, emotion, showing, telling (leaving anything out here?), internal monologues, staging, they are all good devices to use, they are all necessary cogs in the machine –lose one element and you’re in danger of the machine grinding to a halt. Yes! All of these elements can be necessary; even telling and backstory, but, BUT they have to work together, and they serve different roles. One element may be a small cog, while others are more important. Often times, dialogue is one big ass cog in the story machine. Dialogue moves the story forward seamlessly. It engages the reader in a way prose never can. Or should I say good dialogue does all that.
I’ve heard a lot of writers complain/lament about writing dialogue. It is hard for them. They can’t seem to make their characters speak. I understand. Really, I do. So here area a few things to help:
Now good dialogue isn’t about showing us what YOU the writer want us to understand about the story. NO, it isn’t! That’s “you know Bob” dialogue. Good dialogue is about what the character wants –both to receive and to convey.
We learned to talk for one simple reason: to tell mom and dad, “Hey, I want /don’t want that!” At some point in our baby lives we grew frustrated with “baba-daba” while pointing to the pointing to the strained peas and getting more freaking strained peas, when really all we wanted to get across is, if you give me another disgusting jar of that goop I’m going to stick my spoon up your nose! Something was getting lost in translation and so the effort was made to communicate on a more sophisticated level. Hence words. “You know mother, while I appreciate your desire to give me a well-rounded diet, I really do detest strained peas.” And voila, bob’s your uncle. No more stained peas!
Which is a really long way of saying, we talk to convey our wants –in the simplest terms. Those wants are more sophisticated at times. We may want to tell someone in so many roundabout words that we care for them, or that we’re angry, scared, whathaveyou. Now, if your characters are adults, you also have to understand that adults have veered away from caveman bluntness of “no more peas. I want carrots…” to more subtle and subversive forms of communication (well, for the most part). Hence, “you know what vegetable is good too? Carrots. Not that I don’t like peas, these are… great, love what you’ve done with them, straining them and all. But have you ever tried carrots sautéed in brown butter? Awesome. You should try it sometime. I’ve got a recipe.”
Realistic dialogue not only conveys what the character wants but it takes into account that most people will not simply come out and say what they want (or are thinking).
Let’s take this bit of dialogue from my book West of the Moon. While it might seem straight forward, there is a whole other dialogue taking place here (which I’ll put in red) This is dialogue only; I’ve taken out all prose, tags, and staging.
“Do you wish to accept my offer, girl?” (Are you going to reject me?)
-silence on her part-
“Are you addle-brained or merely considering?” (now you’re starting to freak me out. Well are you???)
“M-might I see your face, my lord?” (Yeah, I’m considering.)
“You may not. If it were in my power, I would not have looked upon yours, for it fills me with despair.” (I’m afraid of rejection so I’ll insult you. Hey, it’s the fastest way to drive someone away. So if you’re going to go, it might as well be here and now.)
“Here, sir!” Father cried. “My daughter need not be molested! She’s an agreeable girl, willing to please... Only wanted to see who she’d keep her company with. No matter, no matter. We are both gentlemen, are we not?” (My daughter is a pain in my butt, we both know it but we had an agreement. You’re not going to kill me if she backs out, are you?)
“Neither you or I is a gentleman, Ellis. We both know as much. It was your condition that we meet. I told you I cared not for her appearance, only for what she could do for me.” (Yeah, I’ll make you pay if she does. I really do care what she decides but I’m not letting you two know that –I’ve got some pride, you know.)
“Well, girl, do we have an accord?”(back to the issue at hand, all right!)
“You may address me as Miss Ellis. Not ‘girl’ or ‘chit.’” (If I’m going into this marriage, I’m doing so with some hand. I’m not going to be a rug.)
“Miss Ellis, I’ve little time or patience for dithering.” (Let’s see how much backbone you have.)
“Nor I for rudeness. I shall accept your proposal - with terms.” (oh, about this much backbone, thank you.)
“Name them.” (Oh, thank God, you’re going to do it.)
“Do not ever speak to me in cruelty again. And never forget, you came for me, not I for you.” (Maybe you should run for the hills, because I am a pain in the butt; please run for the hills.)
“I do not believe for a moment that you shall let me forget that fact, Miss Ellis. An accord, then.” (I’m going to enjoy this. And there is no turning back now. Don’t forget that.)
“Next Wednesday, is it?” called out Father weakly.
The only response was the sharp click of boot heels as Lord Archer faded into the night. (My lack of response indicates my utter disregard of you.)
Now, I might have simply had the characters say what they really meant. But not only is that unrealistic, it is boring. Good dialogue pulls the reader in by making them pay attention to both what is and is not being said.
The work of dialogue is multi-purpose. Yes, you the writer must convey information and move the story along with it; there is nothing worse then dialogue for no purpose. We do not want to read a ten minute long conversation about Bob and how he changed his tires that morning if it means nothing to the story. So yes, you the writer must pick and choose what you want to show in each scene. On the other hand, you must learn how to let the character impart that information in a natural way that is true to the character.
Claire had a really great post about using an exercise in which you follow a character’s stream of consciousness. Basically, you let yourself fall into the mind of your character and write down what he is thinking. No inner critic allowed: just write, as Claire suggests. This too can be done with dialogue. Difference being is sitting down, and letting your two characters talk. Write their dialogue as it comes, no tags, inserted prose, or action staging to slow your down. Just let them talk. I can’t tell you how many of my favorite scenes came about this way –okay, I’m thinking 80 percent of ALL my scenes came about by me simply hearing my characters talk, writing all that chatter down, then coming back and filling out the rest. I’ll reuse the scene from above –which is actually the first scene I wrote for Moon. It came in the form of voices having an exchange:
“Do you wish to accept my offer, girl?”
“Are you addle-brained or merely considering?”
“M-might I see your face, [no character names as of yet]?”
“You may not. If it were in my power, I would not have looked upon yours, for it fills me with despair.”
“Here, sir!” Father cried. “My daughter need not be molested! She’s an agreeable girl, willing to please... Only wanted to see who she’d keep her company with. No matter, no matter. We are both gentlemen, are we not?”
“Neither you or I is a gentleman, [btw, as Rachel has said, brackets are great for this sort of thing. Otherwise, you’re going to slow down/stop to try and come up with names and whatnot]. We both know as much. It was your condition that we meet. I told you I cared not for her appearance, only for what she could do for me.”
“Well, girl, do we have an accord?”
“You may address me as Miss [ ]. Not ‘girl’ or ‘chit.’”
“Miss [ ], I’ve little time or patience for dithering.”
“Nor I for rudeness. I shall accept your proposal - with terms.”
“Name them.”
“Do not ever speak to me in cruelty again. And never forget, you came for me, not I for you.”
“I do not believe for a moment that you shall let me forget that fact, [ ]. An accord, then.”
Another point to remember, good dialogue allows for differences in speech. Not everyone talks the same way, so don’t make your characters do it. Dialogue should impart clues as to the person’s background and how they feel about themselves. Take Father’s words to Lord Archer.
“Here, sir!” Father cried. “My daughter need not be molested! She’s an agreeable girl, willing to please... Only wanted to see who she’d keep her company with. No matter, no matter. We are both gentlemen, are we not?”
His words should convey a few things: that he is of inferior birth to Archer, that Archer makes him nervous, BUT that he is used to selling a “product” –he is a merchant, after all. Archer and Miss Ellis’s speech have an elevated style. They’ve both grown up with money and education, Lord Archer, particularly. The way they speak must convey that. In actuality, your job as the writer in regards to dialogue and characterization is a lot like method acting. You can bring it to a higher level by living in the character’s shoes.
Which brings me to the last thing I’m going to mention about dialogue today (really, I could go on hours, lol.) Dialogue does not live in a bubble. The characters actions and interior monologue give us a world of information as well. Working in conjunction with dialogue, these things ought to give us the whole picture. So, I’ll leave you with our scene in its entirety. See how the exchange and the character’s feelings (especially Miss Ellis’s) change with added information. With it the subtext that I added in red shines through without my having to have them speak it. (erm, or it should, at any rate.)
“Do you wish to accept my offer, girl?”
I could almost hear Father’s silent pleas for mercy. But something within me refused to let the words come.
The outline of Lord Archer’s shoulders moved. “Are you addle-brained or merely considering?” he snapped.
A wave of heat washed my cheeks. I stepped forward and peered into the darkness. “M-might I see your face, my lord?”
He stiffened and pulled slightly away, falling deeper into shadow. “You may not. If it were in my power, I would not have looked upon yours, for it fills me with despair.”
The brittle ice of his words cut into me and I gasped.
“Here, sir!” Father cried. “My daughter need not be molested! She’s an agreeable girl, willing to please...” A distinct jab hit my rib. “Only wanted to see who she’d keep her company with. No matter, no matter. We are both gentlemen, are we not?”
“Neither you or I is a gentleman, Ellis. We both know as much. It was your condition that we meet. I told you I cared not for her appearance, only for what she could do for me.”
The icy cold that invaded my heart slid down my spine and I shivered. Lord Archer chose that moment to address me. “Well, girl, do we have an accord?”
Cold or not, I straightened. “You may address me as Miss Ellis. Not ‘girl’ or ‘chit.’”
“Miss Ellis, I’ve little time or patience for dithering.”
“Nor I for rudeness. I shall accept your proposal - with terms.”
His dark frame grew before me. The bulk of a man before me seemed as though a great bear preparing to attack. “Name them.”
I leaned as far forward as I could, for Father had a good hold on my elbow and was pinching hard. “Do not ever speak to me in cruelty again.”
Father gasped in alarm. For once, I did not care. I pointed my finger in the direction of the lord’s chest. “And never forget, you came for me, not I for you.”
A terrible silence fell over the damp garden. I shrank back, suddenly aware of the sheer size of the figure before me, and the dark strength that emanated from him. His eyes bore into me with such intensity that for a wild moment I feared he was trying to delve into my very thoughts. My breath came out in small puffs, white and pure, before dissipating into the gloom.
Father shuffled beside me, ready to grovel, when a bark of laughter rang out, echoing on the wet brick walls. The sound of it bounced down the walk and for a moment, another flash of something long-forgotten rolled over me.
“I do not believe for a moment that you shall let me forget that fact, Miss Ellis.”
He moved and I jumped back with a small squeak. But he only turned away with a swirl of his cloak. “An accord, then,” he called over his shoulder. He passed beneath a gas lamp, highlighting the sheen of silver mist that lay over his silk top hat and black cloak.
“Next Wednesday, is it?” called out Father weakly.
The only response was the sharp click of boot heels as Lord Archer faded into the night.
“You know mother, while I appreciate your desire to give me a well-rounded diet, I really do detest strained peas.” lol!
ReplyDelete"Which is a really long way of saying, we talk to convey our wants –in the simplest terms."
"Realistic dialogue not only conveys what the character wants but it takes into account that most people will not simply come out and say what they want (or are thinking)."
Speaking as someone who always struggles with dialogue, it might help me to keep these two main points in my head (already so filled with tips it's a wonder stories get passed them!)
Westerfeld had a dialogue exercise on his blog a little while ago - where he wrote a story with just dialogue. Apparently, he uses that exercise for his novels almost the way I use an SOC; to find out what's going on before fleshing out the scene.
Love that snip Kristen!