Dialogue: Part Two
Last week we touched upon helpful tools for writing dialogue and the effects you can use to make it closer to 'natural' speech. Today we'll discuss how you, the author, present your dialogue to your readers.
Differentiate your characters
This is so crucial, it should have been lesson 1 in the first blog. Never mind: make sure your characters each have their own individual voice.
Yes, there are instances where this wouldn't be appropriate. If you're in a job interview or testifying in court, you wouldn't - or at least shouldn't - indulge in your favourite slang and speech patterns. But the rest of the time, everyone has their own signature style - especially important in the written word, where we can't hear them speak.
So much factors into the way a character speaks. We know a dustman and a duchess would have very different voices, but there's also place of origin, education, career. Do they have delusions of grandeur, malapropping all the time? Do they add tag questions ("Know what I mean?" "Isn't it?") Do they have a speech impediment/impairment (to be handled sensitively; while lisps and stammers might have been joked about twenty years ago, consider that your reader might have one)? Do they insist on using the name of whoever they're talking to?
Don't tell us that the character is witty and articulate; we'll be the judge of that. Don't say they have a potty mouth. Show us. Once a certain characteristic is established, we'll have no trouble knowing who's saying what.
Stop recapping
In some ways, TV and film have done authors a disservice. Thanks to director/writers like Tarantino, everybody's under the impression that a conversation about a lost Action Man is funny, 'real' and adds depth to a character, particularly before a shoot out or other dramatic development.
The trouble is, film is a very different medium to the printed page. A sequence that lasts a minute in a film will take two pages to read, meaning your characters have spent several hundred words gassing about something that has no bearing on the plot. I'm not saying every conversation should be laden with relevance and meaning, but unless it's incredibly important or amusing, you can cut.
Your reader has been to a restaurant or booked a taxi before; they don't need to have these transactions recreated. If your character is bored and frustrated listening to witless natter, you don't need to inflict it on us. Take a leaf out of Jane Austen's book: rather than subject us to more of Mr Collins, fiction's biggest windbag, she dismisses his chitchat as "pompous nothings".
Said
For reasons unknown, generations of kids had it drummed into them that 'said' was bland, unimaginative, inexpressive etc, and a writer should employ any verb at their disposal rather than this innocuous little word.
Poppycock! It's the content that's important, not how they say it. Unless they're whispering, crying or shouting, it really doesn't make one iota of difference. You certainly don't want a page full of unsightly alternatives: 'shrilled', 'expostulated', 'rejoined'. And please stop using ejaculated, unless you're writing another sort of story.
Another puzzling trend: how characters perform an action rather than speak like the rest of us. Can you smirk, guffaw or smile a sentence? Didn't think so.
Also, while we're on the subject, writers seem to have an issue with tags. Either they have a pot pourri, as though we're in danger of forgetting everybody's names, or nobody's speech is tagged, meaning we have to count back to work out who said what. Err on the side of caution: unless you have droves of characters speaking at once, only allocate if they're doing something vital (suspicious fidgeting, an outrageous act of vandalism) or if you wish to draw attention to their mood. Which brings us to ...
Adjectivitis
Another primary school hang up! Back when we were very young, our creative writing teachers encouraged us to use adjectives willy nilly; some writers still cherish this belief.
In the majority of cases, you should have a rough idea from the content. If it's in response to something daft, you gather they're being ironic; if they're clearly emotional, you don't have to say they're intense, overwrought etc. There's a world of difference between an earnest, penitent "I'm sorry!" and a snappy, sarcastic "I'm sorry!" And for heaven's sake don't put "lovingly" or "affectionately" when they're saying sweet nothings. Readers resent being treated like children.
Realism
Granted, writing is a highly artificial form, but there are certain precautions you can take to guarantee that your dialogue rings true to readers.
In real life, people don't listen to each other, frequently interrupt and overlap - try to convey this. People don't spout on for pages unless they're in a position of power, summing up or a verbose bore; it's your duty to make clear which. There's an unwritten law that you take turns in conversations - we all itch when we feel somebody's hogging more than their share.
People try to be polite, meaning it's all the more spectacular when they break the rules. We remember Basil Fawlty's outbursts precisely because they're so unexpected in a hospitality situation. Swearing and verbal abuse should definitely be out! When somebody's nervous, the instance of questions and filler words creeps up; while you can have your characters "erm" and "well", don't use it as regularly as real life, or your reader will get bored.
People adapt their style to the audience and occasion. You wouldn't speak the same way to a boardroom of directors as you would your nine year old niece. You crop swear words, modify your vocabulary, try to be a mainstream and accessible as possible. A character who flouts these rules is inferred by the reader to be deliberately offensive or out of touch. Don't be like the poor vicar who compared prayer to "intercourse with God," not realising the word has different connotations nowadays!
How much?
There is no hard and fast rule to how much dialogue you should have. Many of us flick through a book before choosing it, preferring one with plenty of speech to one with oases.
Of course it depends on the genre. Your lush historical novel might be heavier on description than your hard boiled crime thriller. It varies within the same book too; as it sweeps towards the climax, there's bound to be as much speech as action.
There are two main ways to improve your dialogue skills: research by reading writers you admire, and constant practice. Read it aloud, try it out on would be audiences, work on it separately to get it just right. Persevere - it's well worth the effort.
Differentiate your characters
This is so crucial, it should have been lesson 1 in the first blog. Never mind: make sure your characters each have their own individual voice.
Yes, there are instances where this wouldn't be appropriate. If you're in a job interview or testifying in court, you wouldn't - or at least shouldn't - indulge in your favourite slang and speech patterns. But the rest of the time, everyone has their own signature style - especially important in the written word, where we can't hear them speak.
So much factors into the way a character speaks. We know a dustman and a duchess would have very different voices, but there's also place of origin, education, career. Do they have delusions of grandeur, malapropping all the time? Do they add tag questions ("Know what I mean?" "Isn't it?") Do they have a speech impediment/impairment (to be handled sensitively; while lisps and stammers might have been joked about twenty years ago, consider that your reader might have one)? Do they insist on using the name of whoever they're talking to?
Don't tell us that the character is witty and articulate; we'll be the judge of that. Don't say they have a potty mouth. Show us. Once a certain characteristic is established, we'll have no trouble knowing who's saying what.
Stop recapping
In some ways, TV and film have done authors a disservice. Thanks to director/writers like Tarantino, everybody's under the impression that a conversation about a lost Action Man is funny, 'real' and adds depth to a character, particularly before a shoot out or other dramatic development.
The trouble is, film is a very different medium to the printed page. A sequence that lasts a minute in a film will take two pages to read, meaning your characters have spent several hundred words gassing about something that has no bearing on the plot. I'm not saying every conversation should be laden with relevance and meaning, but unless it's incredibly important or amusing, you can cut.
Your reader has been to a restaurant or booked a taxi before; they don't need to have these transactions recreated. If your character is bored and frustrated listening to witless natter, you don't need to inflict it on us. Take a leaf out of Jane Austen's book: rather than subject us to more of Mr Collins, fiction's biggest windbag, she dismisses his chitchat as "pompous nothings".
Said
For reasons unknown, generations of kids had it drummed into them that 'said' was bland, unimaginative, inexpressive etc, and a writer should employ any verb at their disposal rather than this innocuous little word.
Poppycock! It's the content that's important, not how they say it. Unless they're whispering, crying or shouting, it really doesn't make one iota of difference. You certainly don't want a page full of unsightly alternatives: 'shrilled', 'expostulated', 'rejoined'. And please stop using ejaculated, unless you're writing another sort of story.
Another puzzling trend: how characters perform an action rather than speak like the rest of us. Can you smirk, guffaw or smile a sentence? Didn't think so.
Also, while we're on the subject, writers seem to have an issue with tags. Either they have a pot pourri, as though we're in danger of forgetting everybody's names, or nobody's speech is tagged, meaning we have to count back to work out who said what. Err on the side of caution: unless you have droves of characters speaking at once, only allocate if they're doing something vital (suspicious fidgeting, an outrageous act of vandalism) or if you wish to draw attention to their mood. Which brings us to ...
Adjectivitis
Another primary school hang up! Back when we were very young, our creative writing teachers encouraged us to use adjectives willy nilly; some writers still cherish this belief.
In the majority of cases, you should have a rough idea from the content. If it's in response to something daft, you gather they're being ironic; if they're clearly emotional, you don't have to say they're intense, overwrought etc. There's a world of difference between an earnest, penitent "I'm sorry!" and a snappy, sarcastic "I'm sorry!" And for heaven's sake don't put "lovingly" or "affectionately" when they're saying sweet nothings. Readers resent being treated like children.
Realism
Granted, writing is a highly artificial form, but there are certain precautions you can take to guarantee that your dialogue rings true to readers.
In real life, people don't listen to each other, frequently interrupt and overlap - try to convey this. People don't spout on for pages unless they're in a position of power, summing up or a verbose bore; it's your duty to make clear which. There's an unwritten law that you take turns in conversations - we all itch when we feel somebody's hogging more than their share.
People try to be polite, meaning it's all the more spectacular when they break the rules. We remember Basil Fawlty's outbursts precisely because they're so unexpected in a hospitality situation. Swearing and verbal abuse should definitely be out! When somebody's nervous, the instance of questions and filler words creeps up; while you can have your characters "erm" and "well", don't use it as regularly as real life, or your reader will get bored.
People adapt their style to the audience and occasion. You wouldn't speak the same way to a boardroom of directors as you would your nine year old niece. You crop swear words, modify your vocabulary, try to be a mainstream and accessible as possible. A character who flouts these rules is inferred by the reader to be deliberately offensive or out of touch. Don't be like the poor vicar who compared prayer to "intercourse with God," not realising the word has different connotations nowadays!
How much?
There is no hard and fast rule to how much dialogue you should have. Many of us flick through a book before choosing it, preferring one with plenty of speech to one with oases.
Of course it depends on the genre. Your lush historical novel might be heavier on description than your hard boiled crime thriller. It varies within the same book too; as it sweeps towards the climax, there's bound to be as much speech as action.
There are two main ways to improve your dialogue skills: research by reading writers you admire, and constant practice. Read it aloud, try it out on would be audiences, work on it separately to get it just right. Persevere - it's well worth the effort.
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