To be fair...I'm sure 50 Shades has it's place. And I don't have anything against explicit sexual literature. (And I use the term lightly). But it was so poorly written. So very very poorly written. I don't want to laugh and say "Um. Yah. That is not what a woman would think/say/do EVER." when I'm reading a sex scene. Fantasy is one thing, but it has to be based in some semblance of reality in order for me to get lost in it. Do you see?
That said...Diana Gabaldon has written some of the most absorbing...Historical Romance (?) books on the market. Personally I would argue the are simply Historical Fiction. I mean every good love story has sex, yah? Romeo and Juliet has sex...Elizabeth and Darcy have sex...we just don't get to read about it. In Diana G's books she writes it in. Very well. And tastefully. And it makes you lust after the lead character Jamie as though he were a living, breathing, entity. She writes seduction. Not just sex. He acts like a stubborn, bullheaded scotsman. She acts like a self-righteous know it all. But some how...these are two of the best suited lovers in a long time. And when they get together...you feel what they feel.
"He was surprised. 'You don't need to wait? I canna do it again right away after....'
'Well, women are different.'
'Aye. I noticed.' He muttered.
He circled my wrist with hes thumb and index finger. 'Its just...you're so small; I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you.'
'You are not going to hurt me,' I said impatiently. 'And if you did, I wouldn't mind.' Seeing puzzled incomprehension on his face, I decided to show him what I meant.
'What are you doing?' he asked, shocked.
'Just what it looks like. Hold still.' After a few moments, I began to use my teeth, pressing progressively harder until he drew in his breath with a sharp hiss. I stopped.
'Did I hurt you?' I asked.
'Yes. A little.' He sounded half-strangled.
'Do you want me to stop?"
'No!'
I went on, being deliberately rough, until he suddenly convulsed, with a groan that sounded as though I had torn his heart out by the roots. He lay back, quivering and breathing heavily. He muttered something in Gaelic, eyes closed.
'What did you say?'
'I said,' he answered, opening his eyes, 'I thought my heart was going to burst.'
I grinned, pleased with myself. 'Oh, Murtagh and company didn't tell you about that, either?'
'Aye, they did. That was one of the things I didn't believe.'
~Diana Gabaldon "Outlander"
Diana does this a lot. The use of dialogue. The byplay between characters to get at what she's trying to convey. It's very clever. And not a single Inner Goddess sighed anywhere...
So. What do you think? Taking into account that there's a place for every type of scene...Does this type of dialogue heavy byplay leave you cold? Or is this what you're aiming for in the bedroom of your books? So to speak...
Showing posts with label Dialogue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dialogue. Show all posts
Monday, February 11, 2013
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Third crit: The Legacy of the Eye
The writer says: Here is the opening of my novel, The Legacy of the Eye. I would like to know if the start feels too slow and if I still have show vs. tell problems.
"Cat, we're stepping into our future and you're not even paying attention."
Catrine’s hand halted, palm pressed against the cool surface of the heavy wood door. She raised her eyebrows at David and made no further motion to exit the main building of the Academy.
Green highlights, throughout: vagueness and/or weak verbs. These are things that would read better if they were more specific and/or more active.
"Our future doesn't start for another couple of weeks," she said.
They were allowed to leave the school that day because the council had granted them an audience. Graduation was still two weeks away.
"You're wrong. This is it. Today we make history." David pushed the door open and the mid-afternoon light rushed into the hall.
She chuckled. "We should wait until the council approves the Tutor Program before we celebrate."
"Why would they reject it? You wrote a great proposal. The argumentation is flawless."
"Just because you couldn't find any faults, doesn't mean the council won't."
Show vs. tell in dialogue -- this dialogue is okay, but it doesn't sound like real people talking. Cat and David both know why they're going to this meeting, what was in the proposal, and when graduation is. Why would they talk about it, then, unless there were lingering questions or problems? They're only saying these things so the reader knows them.
How often do you turn to a friend and say "Today I make history," -- and not mean it as a joke? (it can be a good joke, admittedly)
This kind of narrative dialogue turns up a lot in TV shows. CSI is especially guilty, since they have to explain procedures and logical connections to the viewers. But real people do not talk like that.
May I suggest explaining the proposal in the narrative -- and keep it very short, because you can explain more once we get to the meeting. Plus, it's not actually that important. Lead with drama: Cat's fears about the proposal, graduation, her attraction to David, or whatever's appropriate. Another problem with narrative dialogue is that it's low on emotions. Low emotions = "slow start".
They walked toward the front gates of the Academy. The wooden bars stood wide open and seemed more decorative than a true barrier to their exit. Catrine’s eyes were still adjusting to the brightness, but they took in the novelty of her surroundings. This was the first time either student had left the school since their enrollment at the age of two. They were both eighteen now, but Catrine did not feel as ready to conquer the galaxy as David was. Her insides were twisted in knots. She had eaten hardly anything all day. But she would not let her nervousness show--not even to her best friend.
Yellow highlight: this is the only "tell" in the narration that you might want to "show" instead.
"You're fretting too much," David said. "Everyone in the department loved our idea to teach the rest of the galaxy and the council will too."
After this, the dialogue gets considerably better.
Deep down, Catrine knew they were as ready as they could ever be. She had spent weeks writing the proposal and they had prepared David's speech with great care. But it was such an ambitious project...
"I'm just glad you will be the one doing all the talking," she said.
Their dark gray tunics and slacks sparkled in the afternoon light. The uniform designated them as students from the Governance Department, but no one prevented them from exiting the Academy grounds even though they were unsupervised. David had managed to convince their instructors there was no need for a chaperone. He thought the lack of one would increase their chances of successfully defending the proposal. Catrine had not argued with him, but she had made sure she had clear instructions on how to get to the government building. The last thing they needed was to get lost on the way.
Sparkled? How?
"Wow! I've never seen so many flowers in one place," David said as he stepped through the archway and out of the Academy grounds.
Catrine followed him toward the flowers. The bright colors on the other side of the entranceway grabbed her attention like David's raised voice in the quiet reading room. She inhaled deeply. The floral tones drifting from the garden gave the air a sweeter scent.
"Now we know why everyone talks so much about the Center Gardens," she said. "The directions say to go around it."
"We have time. Let's walk through the park."
"We don't want to be late..."
"Then don't waste time arguing." David grabbed her hand and led her down the footpath closest to them.
She knew better than to argue with him--especially considering she wanted to stroll among the flowers just as much. Catrine noticed flowers of different colors planted in sequence and she wondered if the colors represented the diverse departments of the Academy. The path in front of them started by a simple two-tiered stone pool and bowl adorned solely with the letter W three times around its circumference and led toward the larger fountain they could see farther ahead. The violet beds on either side were in different shades of blue, dark-colored at first then lighter the deeper into the park they walked. The fragrance of the flowers, on the other hand, intensified toward the middle of the Center Gardens.
Did you mean to hint at David being violent?
The perfume in the air stirred Catrine's empty stomach and she soon regretted their route. She squeezed David's hand for support when her step faltered and he halted.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You look pale."
"I should have eaten more for lunch."
"Let me help you to the fountain. You can splash some cool water on your face."
He slipped his arm around her waist and her heart rate doubled its pace. Catrine took a deep breath to clear her head, but the cloying smell only made her dizzier. She staggered the next few steps towards the lilies that surrounded the fountain, leaning on David for support. She needed to get away from the perfume of the flowers, so she buried her face in his chest to mask the scent.
He enveloped her in a hug, his hand gently stroking her back. "Relax, Cat. You're just stressed about the proposal defense. Everything will be fine."
His voice was low and soothing. When she looked up, David was smiling at her. She wanted to thank him for being there, so she rose to her toes to give him a kiss. But instead of the friendly peck on the cheek they had often exchanged, their mouths joined in an embrace that did not let go.
Catrine tasted the sweetness of the lilies on his soft lips. It mingled with the alluring smells around her and the enchanting melody of trickling water coming from the fountains in the park. The kiss that had started as endearing gathered intensity like the scent of the flowers throughout their stroll in the garden. Catrine interlaced her fingers with the hair at the nape of David's neck and pulled him even closer. His hand reached under her tunic and seemed to burn the skin it touched.
Then David broke off the kiss gasping for breath and stepped back. "We don't have time for this. We're going to be late."
Neither of them seem particularly disconcerted by this passing flash of lust... so I have to assume this has been going on for a while? If it hasn't, you're passing up a gold mine of conflict and reader hooks.
Catrine had no time to process what had happened. David grabbed her hand and dragged her through the violet bed, heading northeast. The sea of flowers they trampled changed from blue to purple to magenta. When they reached the path between the red-colored gerbera daisies, David followed it to the government complex. The four-story building was built of timber, but shined in the light of day due to its many windows. It was very similar to the Academy one that faced the park.
Highlight: kinda awkward wording, there. Past tense of shine is shone.
David had not looked at Catrine during his rush to leave the garden, but he had not let go of her either. When they reached the front door, he gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it.
"Relax," he said.
Catrine was still trying to catch her breath, but she noticed David's back straighten and she mimicked his posture. Then she entered the main government building a couple of steps behind him, at a much slower pace than her heart rate.
"Cat, we're stepping into our future and you're not even paying attention."
Catrine’s hand halted, palm pressed against the cool surface of the heavy wood door. She raised her eyebrows at David and made no further motion to exit the main building of the Academy.
Green highlights, throughout: vagueness and/or weak verbs. These are things that would read better if they were more specific and/or more active.
"Our future doesn't start for another couple of weeks," she said.
They were allowed to leave the school that day because the council had granted them an audience. Graduation was still two weeks away.
"You're wrong. This is it. Today we make history." David pushed the door open and the mid-afternoon light rushed into the hall.
She chuckled. "We should wait until the council approves the Tutor Program before we celebrate."
"Why would they reject it? You wrote a great proposal. The argumentation is flawless."
"Just because you couldn't find any faults, doesn't mean the council won't."
Show vs. tell in dialogue -- this dialogue is okay, but it doesn't sound like real people talking. Cat and David both know why they're going to this meeting, what was in the proposal, and when graduation is. Why would they talk about it, then, unless there were lingering questions or problems? They're only saying these things so the reader knows them.
How often do you turn to a friend and say "Today I make history," -- and not mean it as a joke? (it can be a good joke, admittedly)
This kind of narrative dialogue turns up a lot in TV shows. CSI is especially guilty, since they have to explain procedures and logical connections to the viewers. But real people do not talk like that.
May I suggest explaining the proposal in the narrative -- and keep it very short, because you can explain more once we get to the meeting. Plus, it's not actually that important. Lead with drama: Cat's fears about the proposal, graduation, her attraction to David, or whatever's appropriate. Another problem with narrative dialogue is that it's low on emotions. Low emotions = "slow start".
They walked toward the front gates of the Academy. The wooden bars stood wide open and seemed more decorative than a true barrier to their exit. Catrine’s eyes were still adjusting to the brightness, but they took in the novelty of her surroundings. This was the first time either student had left the school since their enrollment at the age of two. They were both eighteen now, but Catrine did not feel as ready to conquer the galaxy as David was. Her insides were twisted in knots. She had eaten hardly anything all day. But she would not let her nervousness show--not even to her best friend.
Yellow highlight: this is the only "tell" in the narration that you might want to "show" instead.
"You're fretting too much," David said. "Everyone in the department loved our idea to teach the rest of the galaxy and the council will too."
After this, the dialogue gets considerably better.
Deep down, Catrine knew they were as ready as they could ever be. She had spent weeks writing the proposal and they had prepared David's speech with great care. But it was such an ambitious project...
"I'm just glad you will be the one doing all the talking," she said.
Their dark gray tunics and slacks sparkled in the afternoon light. The uniform designated them as students from the Governance Department, but no one prevented them from exiting the Academy grounds even though they were unsupervised. David had managed to convince their instructors there was no need for a chaperone. He thought the lack of one would increase their chances of successfully defending the proposal. Catrine had not argued with him, but she had made sure she had clear instructions on how to get to the government building. The last thing they needed was to get lost on the way.
Sparkled? How?
"Wow! I've never seen so many flowers in one place," David said as he stepped through the archway and out of the Academy grounds.
Catrine followed him toward the flowers. The bright colors on the other side of the entranceway grabbed her attention like David's raised voice in the quiet reading room. She inhaled deeply. The floral tones drifting from the garden gave the air a sweeter scent.
"Now we know why everyone talks so much about the Center Gardens," she said. "The directions say to go around it."
"We have time. Let's walk through the park."
"We don't want to be late..."
"Then don't waste time arguing." David grabbed her hand and led her down the footpath closest to them.
She knew better than to argue with him--especially considering she wanted to stroll among the flowers just as much. Catrine noticed flowers of different colors planted in sequence and she wondered if the colors represented the diverse departments of the Academy. The path in front of them started by a simple two-tiered stone pool and bowl adorned solely with the letter W three times around its circumference and led toward the larger fountain they could see farther ahead. The violet beds on either side were in different shades of blue, dark-colored at first then lighter the deeper into the park they walked. The fragrance of the flowers, on the other hand, intensified toward the middle of the Center Gardens.
Did you mean to hint at David being violent?
The perfume in the air stirred Catrine's empty stomach and she soon regretted their route. She squeezed David's hand for support when her step faltered and he halted.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You look pale."
"I should have eaten more for lunch."
"Let me help you to the fountain. You can splash some cool water on your face."
He slipped his arm around her waist and her heart rate doubled its pace. Catrine took a deep breath to clear her head, but the cloying smell only made her dizzier. She staggered the next few steps towards the lilies that surrounded the fountain, leaning on David for support. She needed to get away from the perfume of the flowers, so she buried her face in his chest to mask the scent.
He enveloped her in a hug, his hand gently stroking her back. "Relax, Cat. You're just stressed about the proposal defense. Everything will be fine."
His voice was low and soothing. When she looked up, David was smiling at her. She wanted to thank him for being there, so she rose to her toes to give him a kiss. But instead of the friendly peck on the cheek they had often exchanged, their mouths joined in an embrace that did not let go.
Catrine tasted the sweetness of the lilies on his soft lips. It mingled with the alluring smells around her and the enchanting melody of trickling water coming from the fountains in the park. The kiss that had started as endearing gathered intensity like the scent of the flowers throughout their stroll in the garden. Catrine interlaced her fingers with the hair at the nape of David's neck and pulled him even closer. His hand reached under her tunic and seemed to burn the skin it touched.
Then David broke off the kiss gasping for breath and stepped back. "We don't have time for this. We're going to be late."
Neither of them seem particularly disconcerted by this passing flash of lust... so I have to assume this has been going on for a while? If it hasn't, you're passing up a gold mine of conflict and reader hooks.
Catrine had no time to process what had happened. David grabbed her hand and dragged her through the violet bed, heading northeast. The sea of flowers they trampled changed from blue to purple to magenta. When they reached the path between the red
Highlight: kinda awkward wording, there. Past tense of shine is shone.
David had not looked at Catrine during his rush to leave the garden, but he had not let go of her either. When they reached the front door, he gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it.
"Relax," he said.
Catrine was still trying to catch her breath, but she noticed David's back straighten and she mimicked his posture. Then she entered the main government building a couple of steps behind him, at a much slower pace than her heart rate.
To answer your questions directly: yes, it's a kinda slow start because you're not tapping the emotions I suspect are here. Your show vs. tell ratio is fine, in the narrative. I already talked about the dialogue. On the whole, I think all you need is to shift the focus a little bit.
Friday, November 2, 2012
#2 The Legacy of the Eye
The more
submissions I read from this familiar manuscript, the more intrigued I become.
This passage is from Chapter 19. David has been away from Demia for 13 years. Catrine is now Head of the Academy and is trying to get him to come back to Demia.
"If you think I'm doing such a bad job, why don't you
take over?" She was looking straight into his eyes.
He could not look away and he definitely did not want to take over.
"That's not what I meant."
"David, just because our fathers wanted to set us up as
king and queen of Demia doesn't mean we have to follow their plan."
"That's why I left." He was sure Cat could hear
the pain in his voice. It had been the hardest choice he had ever had to make.
"I know," she whispered. "But they are both
dead and I need advice. I need help setting Demia back on track. Their mess
needs undoing and I can't do this alone."
David's breath caught in his lungs. He wanted to help her,
but he could not remain on Demia any longer. "You have a council full of
advisors. You don't need me."
"I just lost one."
"If you are a council member short, why not ask
Patrick?"
He immediately regretted having brought up the name. Suggestion: He immediately regretted his words. It
tasted so
sour in his mouth that he could not even continue with what he had planned to
say. And he had just added jealousy to the emotions fueling his bad temper. I’d re-write this paragraph and eliminate some of the pronouns.
"I don't want Patrick in the council. Patrick doesn't
give advice, he executes it. He’s brilliant when it comes to getting things
done, but he isn’t the one coming up with novel ideas." I like this. Even though the name ‘Patrick’ is used
twice, I can hear her saying this, an effective use of words. Good job!
The list of Patrick's virtues did not help improve David's
mood. Show his irritation rather than tell me.
Have David slam a book down, grimace, or make a rude sound.
Cat took a step closer to him. "I spend my days making
decisions based on what I think you would do. I'd much rather discuss it with
you than guess."
"You were doing a great job before you started
censoring books. And the Academic Council has been led by a Duke of Carmichael
for the past sixty years. I won't be the next one!"
Cat's eyes narrowed. She leaned toward him, her face inches
from his. She could have whispered and he would have heard her clearly, but her
voice was steady and strong. "You’re gone for thirteen years and you come
back thinking you have all the answers. But you don't want to be involved in
making the much needed changes. You don't want to actually set things right.
Who is being hypocritical? You want to judge me but not help me fix the
problem. Whether you have a solution or not doesn't matter David, because you
are getting on a ship tomorrow to go play kingmaking in the third whorl."
If she had more to say, she did not finish. In one swift
movement, he dropped the reader on the table and took her face in his hands to
silence her with a kiss. Considering the one he witnessed earlier, he was
predicting a reproach and a rejection. His intention was just to stop her
accusations, but once their lips met it was impossible to control the desire he
felt--it had been
brewing too long. The girl of his dreams was now in his arms, and
his body did not want to let go.
To David's surprise, Cat's arms shot up to embrace him
instead of slap him. This time she kissed him back.
Whoa! This sucked me in big time. I had to 'surface' before I could actually crit, LOL.
The only other
suggestion I have is to mix in some short, quick replies sans dialogue tags to
increase the ‘white space’ and hurry the scene.
Like the difference between a
car trundling along at 20 mph and one doing 80, there is a definite thrill when
more speed is employed.
Your ms is on
my list of ‘must haves’.
Good job.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
#1 Not Quite Right
I've been watching the clock for the
last ten minutes. When the bell rings I bolt out of the seat, but not as
quickly as Daniel. He’s on his feet and scoops up my books before I can grab
them. I have to jog to catch him in the hall.
“Where are you going with my
things?” I ask.
Daniel gives me an exasperated
look. “Out to the truck, so I can take you home. You have a problem with that?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll
walk home,” I say
and reach for my books.
“Look Sandra, I have a monster of a
headache, don’t be a jerk. I’m sorry if I spoiled your fun, but it was for your
own good. Just get in the truck, and I’ll take you home,” he says.
“What do you mean, ‘for my own
good’?” I demand.
“Not here and not now. If you really want, I’ll
explain it to you some day. Right now, all I want is to take you home and get on back to the peace of
my own home. Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he says looking at me like I’ve
done something to hurt his feelings.
I reach out and put my hand on his
arm.
“Don’t,” he says stepping away from
me. “Just don’t try to make it better. Not now. Put your coat on, and let’s get
out of here.”
Present tense is a ‘witch’ to do right. I couldn't do it,
that’s for sure. Good job!
See if you agree with my edits. After you've established
that he ‘wants to take her home’, limit the reference in the remainder of the
conversation. This highlights the dramatic moment and makes your storyline zoom.
Regarding the attribute, ‘he says looking at me…’ IMO you
don’t need to explain. The word ‘please’ creates a plaintive image in my mind
of his attitude and is good enough. Sometimes a single word, please, shows what you want the reader to see/feel.
I would definitely turn the page!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Dialogue
Ah, you shy people. With no submissions, the moderator must
punish you with one of her own.
Oh, well, if I must.
There is still time to submit a dialogue excerpt, something
for critting or for bragging. But until then, here is a piece from Of Oak and Dragons.
Leah and her sentient rapier are at odds about a man who the rapier knows as Dragon, a killer. Leah isn't so sure.
I acknowledged the screaming
rapier as I ran down the stairs.
“I guess this is
stupid, but, lookit, he just doesn’t seem the destroyer type, Okay?”
“Gahh, you CANNOT be
infatuated with him. This is just NOT possible!”
“Not infatuated, just
interested, and checking out the enemy, all that stuff. This is a…reconnaissance
mission...yeah, that’s it, I’m looking for information,” I said.
Sullen, the blade was
quiet.
I checked the lane for
cars. Still empty. “Besides, I want to meet this dealer.”
“You
have to take me,” it said.
My eyes snapped to the
rapier on the mantel.
“See, you cannot leave me
for any significant time," it said. "We are bonded and separation results in a painful
experience for both of us if you leave me behind.”
When I speculated on carrying
a four-foot sword, the rapier snarled, PAY ATTENTION! I DISAPPEAR UNTIL YOU
NEED ME!
The rapier cursed
vehemently.
“Hey, hey, none of that
buddy. Don’t be projecting that in my head.” I picked up the rapier and held it
to the light. “Okay. So disappear already.”
A growling, Bite Me broke into my mind.
A car door slammed.
Oops.
I held nothing, only an
empty hand in the air. Hastily I dropped my arm and turned to the door aware of
my racing heart.
Be careful, came a trailing thought, I will appear if you need me.
And the rapier was gone.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away…
Oh, yes I do love my Star Wars. But I digress.
When I started this writing career, I loathed dialogue.
Creating it, speaking, and visualizing the stuff. Hated it. I slammed through
it to get back to the good stuff; action, drama, and narrative. But somewhere
along the way, I grew to enjoy if not love it.
Why did I change?
Beats me.
But methinks it had something to do with the story. I
learned from my characters. They introduced themselves to me in dialogue and
the interaction became golden.
The revelation occurred after a reader told me she hated
narrative. She’d skip the scenery and absorb the conversations instead. I do the same when deciding
whether to buy a new book, I jump past the first page and look for dialogue. Agents read dialogue to judge whether a manuscript is worthy of their attention.
But how to do it right?
This week, submit your dialogue excerpts to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com
Good dialogue has several components.
- Action
- Introduction
- Plot
- Character traits.
With skill, a writer can move the story forward using these
elements. But too often dialogue is the writer’s downfall. Too much
information, explaining, and unnatural voice bogs a reader down.
Pitfalls include:
Backstory leads to
unnatural.
A glut of info confuses the reader. Make it mysterious. Give
the conversation some color without slopping on the whole paint pot.
Attributes that
explain.
“Should I
run all the way?” she inquired.
“If you want
to make it on time,” he smiled.
Let your
characters speak for themselves. Don’t explain.
Echo.
Fred hated
flies in the house.
“Don’t you
know I hate flies in the house,” he said.
Formal
People pause, slur, use bad grammar and short sentences. Not
many yap in long complicated monologues. Let them disagree, interrupt, and
argue.
Slang.
Use dialect carefully. A drib there, now and then helps
define the character traits.
Break it up.
Long conversation is as tiresome as too much description.
Break the speechifying into sections. Let the characters interact physically
while the conversation develops. Watch TV and films. See how the script lets
them move, pick up a dish, look at a newspaper.
Lastly, always read aloud as you edit. Even better, draft a
spouse or passing kid. Bribe them with cookies if you must.
Do you have dialogue that needs critted? Or simply proud of and want to show the world. Send to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Use your Words
Hey.
What’s going on here? It’s like she doesn’t have anything else to do
besides spend all fucking day online! I’ve been stuck in that stupid
generator room for two weeks!
Now, Anoria, Dear. You know she’s busy. Let’s just calm down. Would you care for some tea?
Tea? Are you joking? *sigh* Fine. I’ll have some some of your stupid tea. Who the hell are you anyway?
My name is Private Detective First Class Owen Straff. Very pleased to meet you, Anoria Lee. Now please. Have a seat. We have quite a bit to discuss.
And how the hell do you know my name, Mr. First Classawhosit?
Private Detective First Class Owen Straff. I would imagine that would be obvious. I’m a detective. Of the First Class. And your language is atrocious for a lady.
Look. I didn’t even want to fucking come. Bard made me. He figured it would be easier for me to answer your stupid questions. So. Can we just get on with it?
Do you have someplace you’d rather be? Back in the generator room with Mimi perhaps? I didn’t think the two of you were getting along.
What the hell did you put in this tea? It tastes like peppermint. And lemon.
*Cough* Mint Leaves. And Lemon.
Oh. Well. It’s ok.
I am so glad you approve. Now. Perhaps we can focus on the task set to us?
I suppose.
Wonderful. I'm pleased to have your permission.
***************************
What happens when you take all the distinguishing tags out of your writing?
Can you distinguish between who's talking? Can you tell your characters apart? Do they have a distinctive voice? A distinctive personality? Can you picture their facial expressions when they say the things you script for them to say?
Did you answer No to any of these questions? If so...slap yourself upside the head and pay attention.
These characters that we put in our stories, that carry our stories, that ARE our stories...They are three dimensional. They have stuffed up noses, bad hair days, cars that don't start (or dragons that don't fly...). They have histories. They have baggage. They get angry, sad, happy, scared, confused...every emotion you have felt. They have too.
When you write your characters with one voice, one emotion all the time...your reader will get bored and move on. If your "Good Guy" is always Confident and Smart and Strong and Beautiful and wins at everything he does. Gag me with a spoon. Same with the "Evil Guy". Only, you know...in the evil way.
We've talked quite a bit this week on characters...getting to really know your characters. And hopefully...you can take that knowledge and use it here. Find what makes your character unique. Give them a voice that really stands out. And by proxy...
Give you a story that really stands out.
Now, Anoria, Dear. You know she’s busy. Let’s just calm down. Would you care for some tea?
Tea? Are you joking? *sigh* Fine. I’ll have some some of your stupid tea. Who the hell are you anyway?
My name is Private Detective First Class Owen Straff. Very pleased to meet you, Anoria Lee. Now please. Have a seat. We have quite a bit to discuss.
And how the hell do you know my name, Mr. First Classawhosit?
Private Detective First Class Owen Straff. I would imagine that would be obvious. I’m a detective. Of the First Class. And your language is atrocious for a lady.
Look. I didn’t even want to fucking come. Bard made me. He figured it would be easier for me to answer your stupid questions. So. Can we just get on with it?
Do you have someplace you’d rather be? Back in the generator room with Mimi perhaps? I didn’t think the two of you were getting along.
What the hell did you put in this tea? It tastes like peppermint. And lemon.
*Cough* Mint Leaves. And Lemon.
Oh. Well. It’s ok.
I am so glad you approve. Now. Perhaps we can focus on the task set to us?
I suppose.
Wonderful. I'm pleased to have your permission.
***************************
What happens when you take all the distinguishing tags out of your writing?
Can you distinguish between who's talking? Can you tell your characters apart? Do they have a distinctive voice? A distinctive personality? Can you picture their facial expressions when they say the things you script for them to say?
Did you answer No to any of these questions? If so...slap yourself upside the head and pay attention.
These characters that we put in our stories, that carry our stories, that ARE our stories...They are three dimensional. They have stuffed up noses, bad hair days, cars that don't start (or dragons that don't fly...). They have histories. They have baggage. They get angry, sad, happy, scared, confused...every emotion you have felt. They have too.
When you write your characters with one voice, one emotion all the time...your reader will get bored and move on. If your "Good Guy" is always Confident and Smart and Strong and Beautiful and wins at everything he does. Gag me with a spoon. Same with the "Evil Guy". Only, you know...in the evil way.
We've talked quite a bit this week on characters...getting to really know your characters. And hopefully...you can take that knowledge and use it here. Find what makes your character unique. Give them a voice that really stands out. And by proxy...
Give you a story that really stands out.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Dialogue Crit: me in the hot seat
All right, have at it guys!
Title: Disciple, Part IV: Salt in the Wound
Genre: Gritty fantasy romance... I think
Background: Kate, our narrator, is a magical healer. Elect is her current rank.
“Those are all down-slope, though,” Theo told me, with a flick of his hand, “and they’re certainly not Elect.”
“Does that matter?” I had to ask.
“The king’s own physician is worth a bit more than some common herb-brewer. And Elect — well, you can steal a man from under the Shepherd’s knife. Everyone knows that.”
I opened my mouth to object — dead was dead, and nothing to be done about it, even for saints — but Theo shot a look at Anders and I was sure he knew something of what had happened at the lamia’s fount. And what Saint Qadeem had said about letting people wonder echoed in my memory.
“You say I should charge more,” I said instead. “Elect Parselev charged nothing at all, sir.”
Theo nodded. “He had no children and no rent to pay, though. No husband with a half-tame warhorse and a habit of breaking lances on friends.”
“At least I didn’t drop it.”
“Rent?” That was the part my ear caught on.
“There’s house just up the street that would suit you,” Theo said. “It’s been standing empty a couple years now, but I can have it cleaned and I can bring in carpenters to rearrange it to suit you. You’re going to need about a crown and a half, all told, and I can set the rent at,” and here he tipped his head to consider, “two crescents a moon, which is a pittance for the location. I can loan you the crown and a half, if that’s what you want, and I’ll lower the repayment to two crowns sixteen crescents as I’m still soft in the head from that foul hit.”
Anders snorted into his tea mug.
“But.” Theo raised one finger. “I’d rather give you three crowns — not a loan — and let you pay me one brun of every five you earn, instead.”
Three crowns? Not a loan? And one brun of five, if I were charging…
I still figured on that as Theo leaned over and clicked a latch by his foot. Metal clinked and my eyes caught on three disks of solid sunlight that he dropped on his desk. Casual as if they were of little matter. I’d never even laid eyes on a gold crown coin before.
“Theo.” Anders chided.
Theo spread his hands. “I never bluff. Though you’re right, that’s too greedy. With this stipulation: after twenty years, the obligation expires and if I wish to re-invest — or if my children wish to, should, Mother forbid, the Shepherd call me home — we will discuss the matter afresh.”
Was that such a difference? “How is that less greedy, sir?”
He hesitated. “For if it’s left open-ended, and… well, true, not all Elect live so long but this is no place for such dark thoughts.”
Title: Disciple, Part IV: Salt in the Wound
Genre: Gritty fantasy romance... I think
Background: Kate, our narrator, is a magical healer. Elect is her current rank.
“Those are all down-slope, though,” Theo told me, with a flick of his hand, “and they’re certainly not Elect.”
“Does that matter?” I had to ask.
“The king’s own physician is worth a bit more than some common herb-brewer. And Elect — well, you can steal a man from under the Shepherd’s knife. Everyone knows that.”
I opened my mouth to object — dead was dead, and nothing to be done about it, even for saints — but Theo shot a look at Anders and I was sure he knew something of what had happened at the lamia’s fount. And what Saint Qadeem had said about letting people wonder echoed in my memory.
“You say I should charge more,” I said instead. “Elect Parselev charged nothing at all, sir.”
Theo nodded. “He had no children and no rent to pay, though. No husband with a half-tame warhorse and a habit of breaking lances on friends.”
“At least I didn’t drop it.”
“Rent?” That was the part my ear caught on.
“There’s house just up the street that would suit you,” Theo said. “It’s been standing empty a couple years now, but I can have it cleaned and I can bring in carpenters to rearrange it to suit you. You’re going to need about a crown and a half, all told, and I can set the rent at,” and here he tipped his head to consider, “two crescents a moon, which is a pittance for the location. I can loan you the crown and a half, if that’s what you want, and I’ll lower the repayment to two crowns sixteen crescents as I’m still soft in the head from that foul hit.”
Anders snorted into his tea mug.
“But.” Theo raised one finger. “I’d rather give you three crowns — not a loan — and let you pay me one brun of every five you earn, instead.”
Three crowns? Not a loan? And one brun of five, if I were charging…
I still figured on that as Theo leaned over and clicked a latch by his foot. Metal clinked and my eyes caught on three disks of solid sunlight that he dropped on his desk. Casual as if they were of little matter. I’d never even laid eyes on a gold crown coin before.
“Theo.” Anders chided.
Theo spread his hands. “I never bluff. Though you’re right, that’s too greedy. With this stipulation: after twenty years, the obligation expires and if I wish to re-invest — or if my children wish to, should, Mother forbid, the Shepherd call me home — we will discuss the matter afresh.”
Was that such a difference? “How is that less greedy, sir?”
He hesitated. “For if it’s left open-ended, and… well, true, not all Elect live so long but this is no place for such dark thoughts.”
Friday, June 1, 2012
Dialogue Crit #4
Critting dialogue, paying minimal attention to the tags and surrounding action. Yellow highlighter points out repetition. My apologies if I lost any italics -- they all dropped out in the copy/paste.
Title: The Rogue King
Genre: Adult Science Fantasy
“The truth is you nearly killed her. That she left because she wanted no more of me and none of you.” The proud jaw twitched and Kael shrunk from the fire in his father’s eyes. “The truth is you cost me a woman I dearly loved.” Veng glared at him, shoulders bunching in an effort to contain the rage. “Is that enough truth for you?”
“Why risk your life to save me if you hate me so much?”
Veng sighed, his breath ragged. “I don’t hate you, Kael.” He sunk onto the dune, back pressing into the sand. Eyes closed, he tipped his hairless head up, baring his dusty-brown throat to the suns. “I just miss her.”
“Is she ... dead?” The hope of ever meeting his mother shivered at the thought.
“She’s with the nomads. I’ve sent dozens of messengers. Every one of them was turned awayand but -- unless there's a reason why turning messengers away tells him she's still alive, as far as I know, she’s still alive.” Eyes still shut, he frowned. “Unless something has killed her, He just said he knows she's alive? old age won’t catch up with her for a while, she’s only nineteen.” Bad grammar that easily falls into simple sentences. IME, bad grammar happens in dialogue because of complex lines of logic -- but that's just IME.
That young? He’d always assumed his mother had been older, someone his father would’ve respected. Surely not nineteen. That would’ve made her eleven when he was born. She’d have barely stopped being a child herself beforebaring bearing one. “And you, being thirty-eight and nineteen years her senior, have only two years to live,” Don't talk about the elephant in the room. Plus, how is this relevant to this conversation? Kael said, surprising himself with his vehemence.
Amber eyes opened slowly, head twisting to look up at him. “I went through that talk with your mother.” He sighed. “You’d be surprised how little leeway she gave me.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Quite a stubborn woman.” Maybe you've explained elsewhere how one gets leeway on dying at a particular age? I'm guessing I'm missing a lot of world-building if Kael is only eight but speaking like an adult.
“You sure you didn’t just charm her clothes off?”
Eyelids lowered, his father peered at him through long lashes, the only hair he possessed. “That’s twice you’ve mentioned it,” he murmured. “And it sounds familiar. Are they still teaching from that old book?”
Old? It was barely older than he was. “They taught us your life, in history because you’re supposed to be dead.” And yet, if the school taught them that the great Rogue King was dead, then why were the guards still hunting for him? Furthermore, how had they known Kael was his son? He had none of Veng’s structure and looked nothing like the man in colour. “Are you really my father?”
Eyes wide, Veng stared at him before slowly looking away, doubt on his face.
“You don’t know, do you?” he asked, anger bubbling to surface once more when his question was met with silence. “How could you notrealise realize, unless you're British it? I look nothing like you.” Character call: not answering the question and being bass-ackwards along the way. Is Kael supposed to realize this isn't his father because he doesn't look like him?
“And everything like her.” Given only this dialogue, I have no reason to think he knows what his mother looks like. His voice was so quiet, Kael barely heard the words over his own breathing. Veng looked him over, eyes shutting away all emotion. “Your mother always swore you were of my blood and I’m inclined to believe her.” Which still allows for her doing his brother, admittedly... He lifted a shoulder. “Besides, it was I that tended to and protected you, even if you had come from the loins of another, you’re mine now.” Bad grammar that easily falls into simple sentences, again. And I'll have to assume that Veng "tended and protected" but still left before Kael was old enough to remember him, know who he was?
There's a lot unclear here, and some of that can be blamed on lack of context. Not all of it, though. Given how the conversation rambles, I gather that neither character has a clear objective here, but the subject matter is weighty enough that I'd think Kael would be pursuing a clear answer.
Title: The Rogue King
Genre: Adult Science Fantasy
“The truth is you nearly killed her. That she left because she wanted no more of me and none of you.” The proud jaw twitched and Kael shrunk from the fire in his father’s eyes. “The truth is you cost me a woman I dearly loved.” Veng glared at him, shoulders bunching in an effort to contain the rage. “Is that enough truth for you?”
“Why risk your life to save me if you hate me so much?”
Veng sighed, his breath ragged. “I don’t hate you, Kael.” He sunk onto the dune, back pressing into the sand. Eyes closed, he tipped his hairless head up, baring his dusty-brown throat to the suns. “I just miss her.”
“Is she ... dead?” The hope of ever meeting his mother shivered at the thought.
“She’s with the nomads. I’ve sent dozens of messengers. Every one of them was turned away
That young? He’d always assumed his mother had been older, someone his father would’ve respected. Surely not nineteen. That would’ve made her eleven when he was born. She’d have barely stopped being a child herself before
Amber eyes opened slowly, head twisting to look up at him. “I went through that talk with your mother.” He sighed. “You’d be surprised how little leeway she gave me.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Quite a stubborn woman.” Maybe you've explained elsewhere how one gets leeway on dying at a particular age? I'm guessing I'm missing a lot of world-building if Kael is only eight but speaking like an adult.
“You sure you didn’t just charm her clothes off?”
Eyelids lowered, his father peered at him through long lashes, the only hair he possessed. “That’s twice you’ve mentioned it,” he murmured. “And it sounds familiar. Are they still teaching from that old book?”
Old? It was barely older than he was. “They taught us your life, in history because you’re supposed to be dead.” And yet, if the school taught them that the great Rogue King was dead, then why were the guards still hunting for him? Furthermore, how had they known Kael was his son? He had none of Veng’s structure and looked nothing like the man in colour. “Are you really my father?”
Eyes wide, Veng stared at him before slowly looking away, doubt on his face.
“You don’t know, do you?” he asked, anger bubbling to surface once more when his question was met with silence. “How could you not
“And everything like her.” Given only this dialogue, I have no reason to think he knows what his mother looks like. His voice was so quiet, Kael barely heard the words over his own breathing. Veng looked him over, eyes shutting away all emotion. “Your mother always swore you were of my blood and I’m inclined to believe her.” Which still allows for her doing his brother, admittedly... He lifted a shoulder. “Besides, it was I that tended to and protected you, even if you had come from the loins of another, you’re mine now.” Bad grammar that easily falls into simple sentences, again. And I'll have to assume that Veng "tended and protected" but still left before Kael was old enough to remember him, know who he was?
There's a lot unclear here, and some of that can be blamed on lack of context. Not all of it, though. Given how the conversation rambles, I gather that neither character has a clear objective here, but the subject matter is weighty enough that I'd think Kael would be pursuing a clear answer.
Dialogue Crit #3
Critting dialogue, paying minimal attention to the tags and surrounding action. Yellow highlighter points out repetition.
Title: Not Her Mother's Fate
Genre: Women's fiction
“You like Robert?”
“Usually,” Amy answered, feeling it an odd question. “Do you?”
He nodded, his lips curving in a tight smile. “I have a special interest inRobert Crane. Pronoun. People rarely use names -- I often get stuck IRL hoping someone's name will be mentioned because I've forgotten it. And it never gets said. And I pay close attention to that which sparks my interest.”
Daryl looked her up and down again, but not the sexual dressing down he’d given her earlier. She turned her face away as his long, smooth finger gently caressed her jaw.
“Exquisite,” he whispered appreciatively. “Who do you work for?”
“7-Eleven.”
He laughed. It was a beautiful sound, a man used to being entertained.
“There you are, Amy. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Daryl looked towards Robert’s voice, lifted a hand, and the burly guard stepped out of the way. Robert hurried towards her with two melting drinks in his hand.
“Thanks,” Daryl said as he snagged a glass.
Robert looked angry as he glanced at Amy. She blushed at the accusation in his eyes, knowing he had to have witnessed the slow, tantalizing caress. When she looked up at Daryl, his gray eyes were alive with teasing mischief.
“Truce,” Daryl chuckled as he held up his stolen glass.
“For Cal,” Robert agreed, and they drained the drinks together. “You buying into this?”
Daryl grinned, handed the empty cup back to Robert. “I like her. You should introduce her to my wife.”
“Fat chance,” Robert replied instantly. “You keepmy brother The above being said, this is one place I'd use a name. Unless he doesn't want Amy to know his brother's name. away often enough, you can’t have her too." Bad grammar, but it could work.
The sensuous laugh again from Daryl. “Well, can’t win them all.”
An awkward silence followed as each man assessed the other. Surprisingly, Daryl was the first to break the tense silence as he clasped Robert’s shoulder.
“God I miss Cal,” Daryl admitted hoarsely, swiping at a tear in the corner of his eye. “You’re his favorite, you know.”
“I don’t.You had his heart long before me. You’re family, blood.” Elephant in the room -- they both know this, therefore they have no reason to mention it.
“Fuck you,” the big man demurred. “Stuck with me, but he picked you.” Daryl could throw some proof in Robert's face instead. What's he trying to get from Robert here? Embarrassment? Admission of some kind of guilt?
Robert apparently had no come back for that one.
With a survivor’s instinct for hidden motives, Amy realized this moment was why Robert attended the party.
“Watch yourself out there,” How is this relevant to Robert being the favorite? What prompted the change of subject? Robert said in a low voice. There was genuine concern in his tone as he glanced towards the party. “Some of them think you’re vulnerable right now.” Vague. Either be more specific or leave it out.
“Like I need your advise advice,” The above was too vague to be called advice, I think. Good place for a "Fuck you" though. Daryl said sarcastically. “I’m not helpless without Cal.” Robert pulled back with a snarl, but Daryl grabbed his shirt in one hand and wrapped an arm around Robert’s shoulder. “Some of ‘them’ think I’m gunning to hurt youover Cal’s arrest.” Elephant in the room -- you could use this as a hook, if the reader doesn't know about the arrest, and if they do then you don't need it.
“I heard that rumor.” This is vague, which I'm reading as Robert getting nervous. Was that what you wanted?
“They’re wrong,” Daryl said sharply. Robert nodded, looking past Daryl, down the hall to the bedrooms. All drunkenness vanished from Daryl as he shook Robert. “You know something?”
“Who Brad talks to is none of my business, right? I’m sure you’ve done your own check on his new enforcer.”
The conversation seems to veer from subject to subject, but that could be because it's only a snippet of a scene. And it's a bit... odd that Robert says he's been looking for Amy and then proceeds to ignore her. They both do, actually. There could be many reasons for that, but if she's important to them her presence should have an impact on the conversation. Either because they want to include her or they're deliberately trying to exclude her, control what she hears, etc.
Title: Not Her Mother's Fate
Genre: Women's fiction
“You like Robert?”
“Usually,” Amy answered, feeling it an odd question. “Do you?”
He nodded, his lips curving in a tight smile. “I have a special interest in
Daryl looked her up and down again, but not the sexual dressing down he’d given her earlier. She turned her face away as his long, smooth finger gently caressed her jaw.
“Exquisite,” he whispered appreciatively. “Who do you work for?”
“7-Eleven.”
He laughed. It was a beautiful sound, a man used to being entertained.
“There you are, Amy. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Daryl looked towards Robert’s voice, lifted a hand, and the burly guard stepped out of the way. Robert hurried towards her with two melting drinks in his hand.
“Thanks,” Daryl said as he snagged a glass.
Robert looked angry as he glanced at Amy. She blushed at the accusation in his eyes, knowing he had to have witnessed the slow, tantalizing caress. When she looked up at Daryl, his gray eyes were alive with teasing mischief.
“Truce,” Daryl chuckled as he held up his stolen glass.
“For Cal,” Robert agreed, and they drained the drinks together. “You buying into this?”
Daryl grinned, handed the empty cup back to Robert. “I like her. You should introduce her to my wife.”
“Fat chance,” Robert replied instantly. “You keep
The sensuous laugh again from Daryl. “Well, can’t win them all.”
An awkward silence followed as each man assessed the other. Surprisingly, Daryl was the first to break the tense silence as he clasped Robert’s shoulder.
“God I miss Cal,” Daryl admitted hoarsely, swiping at a tear in the corner of his eye. “You’re his favorite, you know.”
“I don’t.
“Fuck you,” the big man demurred. “Stuck with me, but he picked you.” Daryl could throw some proof in Robert's face instead. What's he trying to get from Robert here? Embarrassment? Admission of some kind of guilt?
Robert apparently had no come back for that one.
With a survivor’s instinct for hidden motives, Amy realized this moment was why Robert attended the party.
“Watch yourself out there,” How is this relevant to Robert being the favorite? What prompted the change of subject? Robert said in a low voice. There was genuine concern in his tone as he glanced towards the party. “
“Like I need your advise advice,” The above was too vague to be called advice, I think. Good place for a "Fuck you" though. Daryl said sarcastically. “I’m not helpless without Cal.” Robert pulled back with a snarl, but Daryl grabbed his shirt in one hand and wrapped an arm around Robert’s shoulder. “Some of ‘them’ think I’m gunning to hurt you
“I heard that rumor.” This is vague, which I'm reading as Robert getting nervous. Was that what you wanted?
“They’re wrong,” Daryl said sharply. Robert nodded, looking past Daryl, down the hall to the bedrooms. All drunkenness vanished from Daryl as he shook Robert. “You know something?”
“Who Brad talks to is none of my business, right? I’m sure you’ve done your own check on his new enforcer.”
The conversation seems to veer from subject to subject, but that could be because it's only a snippet of a scene. And it's a bit... odd that Robert says he's been looking for Amy and then proceeds to ignore her. They both do, actually. There could be many reasons for that, but if she's important to them her presence should have an impact on the conversation. Either because they want to include her or they're deliberately trying to exclude her, control what she hears, etc.
Dialogue R&D
Research
There are genres that absolutely require research into speech patterns and vocabulary: alternate history, Westerns, period war epics. Regency romances, infamously. In other genres, it's useful, it's good to encourage, but honestly it's icing on the cake. You don't have to be a master linguist like Tolkein to write a good fantasy. (Thank goodness.)
I find it useful to be aware of the evolution of the English language in general. There are plenty of good books out there on the topic. Learning another language can teach you a lot about different ways to arrange information. I've heard over and over that learning Latin will blow your brain wide open, but I wasn't brave enough for that.
For the language of specific time periods, watching movies is an easy place to start. Movies are also the least reliable, of course. Thanks to the internet, you should be able to get some idea of a given movie's level of accuracy, though. Reading books written in your time period will teach you more. Even if there isn't much dialogue, the narrative voice can show you something about the voice of the times.
How much work you put into accuracy is entirely up to you, of course. Hampering your readers, or detracting from their enjoyment of the story, is always risky. Though on the other hand, there will also be readers who value accuracy. It's all about balance.
Development
Things tend to shift in the writing. Plots, characters, dialogue too. As you get comfortable with the story, hopefully you'll get comfortable with the dialogue style too. It's one of the things I always go back and revise before calling a first draft finished.
If the dialogue is giving you trouble, though, one thing I've found helpful is writing throwaway scenes. Usually, it's a couple characters sitting around with minimal context telling each other stories -- something that's often not useful in the story itself. But it gives you a chance to work on their conversational style, both in the words and the give and take between them. Plus, you'll probably get some back story and character development out of it. All those "character interviews" I've done over at my blog? They're as much about the dialogue voice as the content, and looking at them I can see evolution.
Listen to your characters. You should always do this, and you should argue with them too. Dialogue is no different in this regard. Let them try on different styles, even ones that clash with their genre. Some things will stick, and some won't. They'll probably surprise you, and that's one of the things I love about writing.
The End!
Drop by tomorrow to see a chunk of my dialogue in the hot seat! :)
There are genres that absolutely require research into speech patterns and vocabulary: alternate history, Westerns, period war epics. Regency romances, infamously. In other genres, it's useful, it's good to encourage, but honestly it's icing on the cake. You don't have to be a master linguist like Tolkein to write a good fantasy. (Thank goodness.)
I find it useful to be aware of the evolution of the English language in general. There are plenty of good books out there on the topic. Learning another language can teach you a lot about different ways to arrange information. I've heard over and over that learning Latin will blow your brain wide open, but I wasn't brave enough for that.
For the language of specific time periods, watching movies is an easy place to start. Movies are also the least reliable, of course. Thanks to the internet, you should be able to get some idea of a given movie's level of accuracy, though. Reading books written in your time period will teach you more. Even if there isn't much dialogue, the narrative voice can show you something about the voice of the times.
How much work you put into accuracy is entirely up to you, of course. Hampering your readers, or detracting from their enjoyment of the story, is always risky. Though on the other hand, there will also be readers who value accuracy. It's all about balance.
Development
Things tend to shift in the writing. Plots, characters, dialogue too. As you get comfortable with the story, hopefully you'll get comfortable with the dialogue style too. It's one of the things I always go back and revise before calling a first draft finished.
If the dialogue is giving you trouble, though, one thing I've found helpful is writing throwaway scenes. Usually, it's a couple characters sitting around with minimal context telling each other stories -- something that's often not useful in the story itself. But it gives you a chance to work on their conversational style, both in the words and the give and take between them. Plus, you'll probably get some back story and character development out of it. All those "character interviews" I've done over at my blog? They're as much about the dialogue voice as the content, and looking at them I can see evolution.
Listen to your characters. You should always do this, and you should argue with them too. Dialogue is no different in this regard. Let them try on different styles, even ones that clash with their genre. Some things will stick, and some won't. They'll probably surprise you, and that's one of the things I love about writing.
The End!
Drop by tomorrow to see a chunk of my dialogue in the hot seat! :)
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Dialogue Crit #2
As before, I am only critting dialogue. Yellow highlighter points out repetition.
As was pointed out in comments yesterday, it's hard to fully isolate dialogue from its tags and surrounding action. Perhaps "paying minimal attention to" is more accurate than "only critting dialogue." Maybe I should talk about the stuff around the dialogue, next time I'm at the helm of Unicorn Bell? :) I'll take requests...
Genre: Paranormal suspense
Set up (if needed): Jack is a local homicide detective, Stan is a friend with the FBI
Jack folded the paper and laid it aside, pushing up from his favorite overstuffed chair. He motioned to Mary that he would take the call in his den. When he picked up the extension Mary finished exchanging pleasantries and hung up.
“Hey, Stan. Thanks for getting back to me.”
“No problem. Afraid I don’t have much.” Stan’s voice held a note of apology.
“Whatever you’ve got.”
“Well, I couldn’t find much official on Harrison but I found people who know people. You know. Looks like Harrison works for one of those departments that doesn’t exist. At least not officially. Word is he’s into the weird stuff. UFO’s and little green men.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it but I never put any stock in it. You’re telling me it’s real?”
“Well, I think most of it’s just so much bullshit. But underneath, yeah, there’s some real.”
Here's why I crossed all that out: Jack would have had to be living under a rock for 50+ years to not have heard about alien conspiracy theories, X-Files, etc. More importantly, your readers would have had to, also. This is all old hat. Jack may not believe any of it, but he can be much more succinct about it -- which is why I left "Come on" in. Instead of this, Stan could be giving us more details/rumors or maybe Jack could rant a bit about conspiracy freaks. Whatever's in character for them.
Caveat: if this story is set in the 1950s or there's a valid reason Jack wouldn't know any of the above, the dialogue could stand as is. See next note.
Jack tried to set aside his instinctive disbelief. “So if Harrison is interested in our killer that means, what? This is a fairly current expression. It's why I'm assuming this is present-day. Harrison thinks he’s an alien?”
“Well, it’s not just aliens. They look into anything not normal like that.ESP and psychics and ghosts and people who claim to use magic. Any of that weird shit. Paranormal phenomena, I think is the official line.” X-Files, again.
“Why? I mean why are they hunting for these…paranormal types?”
“Hell, Jack. You sound like sound wide eyed rookie. Clunky -- it could be an inside joke, but those tend to condense down to as few words as possible. Re-phrase? What do you think they want? Chase ‘em, catch ‘em, and figure out how to use ‘em.” <-- Dialect, unobtrusively. Thumbs up.
Yeah, he knew that. He’d just never spent a lot of time thinking about it. But that was before.
A short silence spun out as Jack considered the implications.
“You got anything else on Harrison?”
“Not really. I got a little more but none of it good. People who have in contact with him, and there aren’t that many, say he’s really intense, maybe obsessed.” Kinda redundant.
“Obsessed? With what?”
“Again, no one seems to know. Then how do they know he's obsessed? At least no one I could find.”
“What about his pull? Where’s his weight coming from?”
“Don’t know. More classified bullshit. I'd argue that classified bullshit is a form of weight itself. But he’s got it. In spades. And he’s some sort of super-interrogator or something. Like a human lie detector.”
The bright winter moon pulled Jack’s eye toward the window. Naked branches moving restlessly in the wind had taken on a sinister edge. Like a human lie detector. Like Cara.
“Pretty much everyone I talked to,” Stan continued, “said he’s got the power to make your life miserable, or mine. I got warned off all the way around. I don’t know what you’ve stepped in there, Jack, but be very careful. You don’t want this guy for an enemy.” This is all kinda redundant too -- it adds emphasis, yes, but I count three re-phrasings of the same information. Two would be enough, IMO, with "got warned off" as a spacer between them.
On the whole, this reads pretty well. The casual tone conveys a familiarity between Jack and Stan, and the addition of a little swearing brings a little tension toward the end.
As was pointed out in comments yesterday, it's hard to fully isolate dialogue from its tags and surrounding action. Perhaps "paying minimal attention to" is more accurate than "only critting dialogue." Maybe I should talk about the stuff around the dialogue, next time I'm at the helm of Unicorn Bell? :) I'll take requests...
Genre: Paranormal suspense
Set up (if needed): Jack is a local homicide detective, Stan is a friend with the FBI
Jack folded the paper and laid it aside, pushing up from his favorite overstuffed chair. He motioned to Mary that he would take the call in his den. When he picked up the extension Mary finished exchanging pleasantries and hung up.
“Hey, Stan. Thanks for getting back to me.”
“No problem. Afraid I don’t have much.” Stan’s voice held a note of apology.
“Whatever you’ve got.”
“Well, I couldn’t find much official on Harrison but I found people who know people. You know. Looks like Harrison works for one of those departments that doesn’t exist. At least not officially. Word is he’s into the weird stuff. UFO’s and little green men.”
“Wait a minute, little green men? You mean like aliens? Come on, Stan.” Jack couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice.
His friend snorted. “What? You didn’t think we really have a department that tracks UFO’s and little green men? You never heard of Hanger 18 and all that shit?”
Here's why I crossed all that out: Jack would have had to be living under a rock for 50+ years to not have heard about alien conspiracy theories, X-Files, etc. More importantly, your readers would have had to, also. This is all old hat. Jack may not believe any of it, but he can be much more succinct about it -- which is why I left "Come on" in. Instead of this, Stan could be giving us more details/rumors or maybe Jack could rant a bit about conspiracy freaks. Whatever's in character for them.
Caveat: if this story is set in the 1950s or there's a valid reason Jack wouldn't know any of the above, the dialogue could stand as is. See next note.
Jack tried to set aside his instinctive disbelief. “So if Harrison is interested in our killer that means, what? This is a fairly current expression. It's why I'm assuming this is present-day. Harrison thinks he’s an alien?”
“Well, it’s not just aliens. They look into anything not normal like that.
“Why? I mean why are they hunting for these…paranormal types?”
“Hell, Jack. You sound like sound wide eyed rookie. Clunky -- it could be an inside joke, but those tend to condense down to as few words as possible. Re-phrase? What do you think they want? Chase ‘em, catch ‘em, and figure out how to use ‘em.” <-- Dialect, unobtrusively. Thumbs up.
Yeah, he knew that. He’d just never spent a lot of time thinking about it. But that was before.
A short silence spun out as Jack considered the implications.
“You got anything else on Harrison?”
“Not really. I got a little more but none of it good. People who have in contact with him, and there aren’t that many, say he’s really intense, maybe obsessed.” Kinda redundant.
“Obsessed? With what?”
“Again, no one seems to know. Then how do they know he's obsessed? At least no one I could find.”
“What about his pull? Where’s his weight coming from?”
“
The bright winter moon pulled Jack’s eye toward the window. Naked branches moving restlessly in the wind had taken on a sinister edge. Like a human lie detector. Like Cara.
“Pretty much everyone I talked to,” Stan continued, “said he’s got the power to make your life miserable, or mine. I got warned off all the way around. I don’t know what you’ve stepped in there, Jack, but be very careful. You don’t want this guy for an enemy.” This is all kinda redundant too -- it adds emphasis, yes, but I count three re-phrasings of the same information. Two would be enough, IMO, with "got warned off" as a spacer between them.
On the whole, this reads pretty well. The casual tone conveys a familiarity between Jack and Stan, and the addition of a little swearing brings a little tension toward the end.
Meaning vs. words spoken vs. the reader
People don't say exactly what they mean, and they don't mean exactly what they say. Slang changes, aphorisms abound, and the elephant in the room isn't spoken about. It's miraculous we understand each other at all, sometimes.
It's been said, and it's true, that the only times people speak in detail about something they do regularly (a job, a tradition, etc.) are when there's a newbie learning the ropes or when something has gone wrong with the system. Thus, the tradition of the main character being new to something so that it has to be explained to him and therefore the readers.
Everything else is an "As you know, Bob," even if those words are never used. Some writers are better at hiding it than others, and to some degree we've all been conditioned to accept expository dialogue as necessary... but as writers, we all want to do better.
You need to get information to the reader, and dialogue is one of your tools. You can bring a newbie into an established system, and you can use the disruption of the system as part of your plot. Here are a couple more thoughts/tricks I've found.
Context, context, context
You can use the natural tendency to not mention ordinary things to pique the reader's interest. Here's an off-the-cuff example from real life:
"You getting anything?"
"I was gonna kick it again."
"Cool."
This conversation is usually shouted from one end of my house to the other and ends with someone switching off the cable modem, counting to ten, and turning it back on. And that's really the most important part, because it's not clear dialogue. The reader thrown into it doesn't know what's being talked about, and will glom onto whatever you give them and assume it explains the dialogue.
If I were to write the above dialogue and then send somebody to the fridge to dish up some ice cream, the reader would try to make sense of that. And probably be quite confused.
Coding as a story hook
We all re-define words on the fly. Words pick up particular meanings in the context of any group of people -- your co-workers, your long-term relationship. your family. They become inside jokes, or reference important events in shorthand. And more importantly, once you've defined them you rarely explain that definition to anybody.
This can make coded dialogue powerful if the reader was there when the referenced events happened. But even if the readers don't know what happened, if you make it obvious that there's coding going on the readers will want to know. It's a hook.
How do you make it obvious? Body language, unexpected reactions, things like that. You've seen this done in movies and television, with varying degrees of subtlety, and you've seen it done in real life. How subtle you want to be depends on your readership, the genre, etc. -- this is something you want your beta readers to report back on whether it's working or not.
Bad grammar and dialect
People don't talk good, all the time. People have accents. Regionalisms. They lapse into other languages. This is a tricky area; yes, it will add color and texture and reality, but it also drives some readers straight up the wall. If the reader can't make heads or tails of what the character's saying for pages on end, they lose a reason to keep reading.
I was one of those people who just picked up A Clockwork Orange and plowed through it, language and all. Too stubborn to read the glossary. I would not expect my reader to let me get away with that sort of thing, though, so: moderation. Be careful. Poll your betas.
It's been said, and it's true, that the only times people speak in detail about something they do regularly (a job, a tradition, etc.) are when there's a newbie learning the ropes or when something has gone wrong with the system. Thus, the tradition of the main character being new to something so that it has to be explained to him and therefore the readers.
Everything else is an "As you know, Bob," even if those words are never used. Some writers are better at hiding it than others, and to some degree we've all been conditioned to accept expository dialogue as necessary... but as writers, we all want to do better.
You need to get information to the reader, and dialogue is one of your tools. You can bring a newbie into an established system, and you can use the disruption of the system as part of your plot. Here are a couple more thoughts/tricks I've found.
Context, context, context
You can use the natural tendency to not mention ordinary things to pique the reader's interest. Here's an off-the-cuff example from real life:
"You getting anything?"
"I was gonna kick it again."
"Cool."
This conversation is usually shouted from one end of my house to the other and ends with someone switching off the cable modem, counting to ten, and turning it back on. And that's really the most important part, because it's not clear dialogue. The reader thrown into it doesn't know what's being talked about, and will glom onto whatever you give them and assume it explains the dialogue.
If I were to write the above dialogue and then send somebody to the fridge to dish up some ice cream, the reader would try to make sense of that. And probably be quite confused.
Coding as a story hook
We all re-define words on the fly. Words pick up particular meanings in the context of any group of people -- your co-workers, your long-term relationship. your family. They become inside jokes, or reference important events in shorthand. And more importantly, once you've defined them you rarely explain that definition to anybody.
This can make coded dialogue powerful if the reader was there when the referenced events happened. But even if the readers don't know what happened, if you make it obvious that there's coding going on the readers will want to know. It's a hook.
How do you make it obvious? Body language, unexpected reactions, things like that. You've seen this done in movies and television, with varying degrees of subtlety, and you've seen it done in real life. How subtle you want to be depends on your readership, the genre, etc. -- this is something you want your beta readers to report back on whether it's working or not.
Bad grammar and dialect
People don't talk good, all the time. People have accents. Regionalisms. They lapse into other languages. This is a tricky area; yes, it will add color and texture and reality, but it also drives some readers straight up the wall. If the reader can't make heads or tails of what the character's saying for pages on end, they lose a reason to keep reading.
I was one of those people who just picked up A Clockwork Orange and plowed through it, language and all. Too stubborn to read the glossary. I would not expect my reader to let me get away with that sort of thing, though, so: moderation. Be careful. Poll your betas.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Dialogue Crit #1
I'm only going to crit the dialogue here, because what you put in between the dialogue and how you tag it is a whole different can of worms.Yellow highlighter points out word repetition, something you want to generally avoid... though in dialogue, people do it more than they should. That pesky reality getting in the way again!
Title: Faerie Wings
Genre: YA/NA contemporary fantasy
People danced through an endless garden. They drifted through large French doors in and out of the real garden and back to dance some more. Chandeliers bathed the room in soft yellow to match the lanterns outside. The dimmer lighting subdued the swirl of colors. Instead of the warm sweaty air I associated with dances, a cool floral breeze drifted through the room.
“What magic is at work here?” I had to lean close to Carter so he could hear me.
“Can you guess?”
“The breeze?”
“Good. Who wants to dance in the heat? You can see that most people have calmed their colors as well.”
“Why?”
“Most people like to keep their emotions to themselves when dancing in public.”
“Not where I come from.” I warmed when Carter placed his hand on my back and led me onto the dance floor.
“I don’t dance. Please, can’t we sit somewhere instead?”
“Dancing will make it impossible for your admirers to talk to you. Isn’t that what you want? And anyway, this is what they want. To see us together, happy and in love.” If it's important to Carter to give the audience what they want (a question of his character), he can entice her into wanting that too or he can give her a solid reason why it will harm her if she doesn't -- carrot or stick. Right now, and in light of her response, this comes across as a mishmash of mild carrot and mild stick. Maybe it needs re-phrasing. Maybe he responds to her response with something more definite.
Heat rushed to my face, “But we’re not in love, and I really can’t dance."
I dug my heels in and we stopped moving forward.
“Mo Run, please. Trust me. You’ll find dancing here easier than on the human side.” Again, not much of a carrot. If this keeps up, he's going to come across as less than motivated. OTOH, her motivations are decently clear. Thumbs up.
“I doubt that.” Didn’t he realize it was impossible to dance when you’ve never heard the music before? I mean, it wasn’t bad. In fact I liked it, but you would never hear it in a club. The music had definite Celtic undertones with some rocking drums thrown in. The problem lie in the fact it couldn’t make up its mind about tempo. Some of the instruments filled the air with lyrical ballads while others played something more like a jig.
The couples in the room didn’t seem to mind. They all danced in their own way. Some rushed around the room spinning with legs and arms flying in intricate patterns. Others danced close and slow.
“What is this? Pick your own tune?”
“You’re smarter than you look. Character call: patronizing tone. Let’s start with something slower?” Carter reached for me and pulled me into dance position.
“It’s really pick your own tune?”
“Yes. Right now there are,” he paused and cocked his head to the side, “four different songs playing.”
“I’ve gone crazy.” Relevance? How does her being crazy influence the music? Though if is this a phrase she uses often, leave it.
“Trust me for one night. Let go of all your fears and give in to your imagination.” Character call: semi-canned phrases.
Carter stood so close, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel his warm hand on my back, just above the scars. His other hand squeezed mine and I wanted to let go like he asked. I really did, but his fingers were sliding down toward my waist. They paused, then moved again tracing one of the lines down my back. His brow crinkled and I stepped away from his hold.
“Mo run?”
His eyes were so deep. Bottomless pools of concern. He hadn’t bargained on me being damaged goods. Even if I wanted this life, I would never fit in. Not with these beautiful, perfect people and their swirling colors.
Title: Faerie Wings
Genre: YA/NA contemporary fantasy
People danced through an endless garden. They drifted through large French doors in and out of the real garden and back to dance some more. Chandeliers bathed the room in soft yellow to match the lanterns outside. The dimmer lighting subdued the swirl of colors. Instead of the warm sweaty air I associated with dances, a cool floral breeze drifted through the room.
“What magic is at work here?” I had to lean close to Carter so he could hear me.
“Can you guess?”
“The breeze?”
“Good. Who wants to dance in the heat? You can see that most people have calmed their colors as well.”
“Why?”
“Most people like to keep their emotions to themselves when dancing in public.”
“Not where I come from.” I warmed when Carter placed his hand on my back and led me onto the dance floor.
“I don’t dance. Please, can’t we sit somewhere instead?”
“Dancing will make it impossible for your admirers to talk to you. Isn’t that what you want? And anyway, this is what they want. To see us together, happy and in love.” If it's important to Carter to give the audience what they want (a question of his character), he can entice her into wanting that too or he can give her a solid reason why it will harm her if she doesn't -- carrot or stick. Right now, and in light of her response, this comes across as a mishmash of mild carrot and mild stick. Maybe it needs re-phrasing. Maybe he responds to her response with something more definite.
Heat rushed to my face, “But we’re not in love, and I really can’t dance."
I dug my heels in and we stopped moving forward.
“Mo Run, please. Trust me. You’ll find dancing here easier than on the human side.” Again, not much of a carrot. If this keeps up, he's going to come across as less than motivated. OTOH, her motivations are decently clear. Thumbs up.
“I doubt that.” Didn’t he realize it was impossible to dance when you’ve never heard the music before? I mean, it wasn’t bad. In fact I liked it, but you would never hear it in a club. The music had definite Celtic undertones with some rocking drums thrown in. The problem lie in the fact it couldn’t make up its mind about tempo. Some of the instruments filled the air with lyrical ballads while others played something more like a jig.
The couples in the room didn’t seem to mind. They all danced in their own way. Some rushed around the room spinning with legs and arms flying in intricate patterns. Others danced close and slow.
“What is this? Pick your own tune?”
“You’re smarter than you look. Character call: patronizing tone. Let’s start with something slower?” Carter reached for me and pulled me into dance position.
“It’s really pick your own tune?”
“Yes. Right now there are,” he paused and cocked his head to the side, “four different songs playing.”
“I’ve gone crazy.” Relevance? How does her being crazy influence the music? Though if is this a phrase she uses often, leave it.
“Trust me for one night. Let go of all your fears and give in to your imagination.” Character call: semi-canned phrases.
Carter stood so close, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel his warm hand on my back, just above the scars. His other hand squeezed mine and I wanted to let go like he asked. I really did, but his fingers were sliding down toward my waist. They paused, then moved again tracing one of the lines down my back. His brow crinkled and I stepped away from his hold.
“Mo run?”
His eyes were so deep. Bottomless pools of concern. He hadn’t bargained on me being damaged goods. Even if I wanted this life, I would never fit in. Not with these beautiful, perfect people and their swirling colors.
Dialogue: world
I love world-building. I love geography, I love building cities, I love creating situations where oddities are perfectly reasonable. How people go about their everyday life in strange places fascinates me.
All of that world-building and cultural development influences the dialogue that comes out of characters' mouths: people are products of their culture, either by conforming to it or rebelling against it.
Culture and technology
The vocabulary your characters learned as children was defined by their surrounding culture, their family, and their education. On the most obvious level, nobody in a pre-industrial world knows what an airplane is. Do clockworks exist, even?
If your character grew up in a coastal village of a pre-industrial world, what sorts of words are going to dominate his vocabulary? What will he have heard his family talking about? That depends on what they did for a living. If they were fishermen, the talk over dinner would be different from what a boy in a wealthy merchant's house would hear.
This impacts vocabulary, sentence structure, and one's place in society as well. A fisherman's son may have learned swearing as a form of punctuation, for example, and give it no more thought than that. Note, though, all of the other assumptions that jump to your mind with that thought -- it's not surprising, is it, that a boy raised poor, working menial jobs, uneducated, would use four-letter words with abandon. It rings true.
How many people are feeling a need to mess with that assumption, now -- show of hands?
The fisherman's boy is also going to describe things he sees in terms of things he knows. Have you noticed how computer terms have crept into how people describe non-computer-related things, lately? It's what we know, now. What does the fisherman's son know? Fish. Nets. Boats, sails, and wind. Rope and canvas. Muscle pain and iron hooks.
Concepts
The subject matter that a character focuses on derives in part from personality (as noted yesterday) and in part from what he's been told is important. If a knight believes his honor is of utmost importance, everything he says is going to revolve around maintaining his honor, giving it to those he deems worthy, and denying it to the unworthy. Maybe this involves particular forms of speech or special vocabulary.
In addition, there's a filter of the ideas available to the character -- ideas about government, religion, equality, etc. These will also contribute to what the character prioritizes and how he speaks about them. How a man speaks to a woman he considers his equal is quite different from how he addresses a woman he believes is his servant, after all. Eavesdrop on how restaurant patrons address their waitress, and you'll hear the difference. (For extra fun, compare to how they address a waiter, if you can.)
Concepts will influence their behavior as well as their speech, and that's all part of the inter-connectedness of a story.
Crits
I have stuff to crit, hooray! I will post at least one today. Don't be shy -- if you have some dialogue you'd like fresh eyeballs on, send it in: unicornbellsubmissions at gmail dot com.
All of that world-building and cultural development influences the dialogue that comes out of characters' mouths: people are products of their culture, either by conforming to it or rebelling against it.
Culture and technology
The vocabulary your characters learned as children was defined by their surrounding culture, their family, and their education. On the most obvious level, nobody in a pre-industrial world knows what an airplane is. Do clockworks exist, even?
If your character grew up in a coastal village of a pre-industrial world, what sorts of words are going to dominate his vocabulary? What will he have heard his family talking about? That depends on what they did for a living. If they were fishermen, the talk over dinner would be different from what a boy in a wealthy merchant's house would hear.
This impacts vocabulary, sentence structure, and one's place in society as well. A fisherman's son may have learned swearing as a form of punctuation, for example, and give it no more thought than that. Note, though, all of the other assumptions that jump to your mind with that thought -- it's not surprising, is it, that a boy raised poor, working menial jobs, uneducated, would use four-letter words with abandon. It rings true.
How many people are feeling a need to mess with that assumption, now -- show of hands?
The fisherman's boy is also going to describe things he sees in terms of things he knows. Have you noticed how computer terms have crept into how people describe non-computer-related things, lately? It's what we know, now. What does the fisherman's son know? Fish. Nets. Boats, sails, and wind. Rope and canvas. Muscle pain and iron hooks.
Concepts
The subject matter that a character focuses on derives in part from personality (as noted yesterday) and in part from what he's been told is important. If a knight believes his honor is of utmost importance, everything he says is going to revolve around maintaining his honor, giving it to those he deems worthy, and denying it to the unworthy. Maybe this involves particular forms of speech or special vocabulary.
In addition, there's a filter of the ideas available to the character -- ideas about government, religion, equality, etc. These will also contribute to what the character prioritizes and how he speaks about them. How a man speaks to a woman he considers his equal is quite different from how he addresses a woman he believes is his servant, after all. Eavesdrop on how restaurant patrons address their waitress, and you'll hear the difference. (For extra fun, compare to how they address a waiter, if you can.)
Concepts will influence their behavior as well as their speech, and that's all part of the inter-connectedness of a story.
Crits
I have stuff to crit, hooray! I will post at least one today. Don't be shy -- if you have some dialogue you'd like fresh eyeballs on, send it in: unicornbellsubmissions at gmail dot com.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Dialogue and character
Action is character. But so is dialogue. This is one of the biggest windows on your character's soul -- it's immediate, it isn't filtered through the narrator, and it can say so much both bluntly and subtly. We all glean information from every word people say. We all draw
conclusions from what we hear and how it's said, we infer meanings and
(hopefully) reflect on the motivations behind them. And the things left
unsaid.
Good dialogue invites the reader to do this with the characters. To listen to them as if they were real people, and by extension think of them as real people.
Word choice
This will tie deeply into world-building, in tomorrow's post, but the more character-based side of the words a character uses depends on his personality and emotional state.
People alter their word choice based on their emotional state, and it's not always a conscious thing. To use myself as an example, in very emotional situations I tend to step back, mentally -- retreat, if you like -- and become objective. And my words change accordingly, sliding toward bigger, more "intellectual" words with less emotional impact. The intent is to defuse the situation and diffuse the emotional content. Though, as I said, it's not really a conscious decision on my part. I'm sure it tells people a lot about my personality, though.
Other people, when they get emotional, plunge into strong, high-impact vocabulary that has an effect like splashing gasoline around a fire. This can include swearing. It could be words with violent connotations. Ultimately, it tells the reader a lot about the character and his temper, though.
Sentence structure
Short sentences feel quick. Long ones slow the pace down. This goes for dialogue as well as narrative, and speaks to the mental state of the character as much as word choice. In a high-stress situation, who has the time to deliver a Shakespearean monologue? Who has the mental distance that it indicates? Sentences naturally shrink when things get rough. Sometimes just down to a single word coded with lots of meaning. (See Coding, which will come later in the week.)
Outside of stressful situations, consistent use of short sentences versus long can indicate something about a character's education, intelligence, or integrity. Or, perhaps, the environment they grew up in -- children will mimic the speech patterns of those around them, unless they make a deliberate choice not to.
Subject matter
On a more abstract level, the things a character talks about tells you what he considers important.
Nobody can maintain perfect awareness of all things; we all prioritize and focus on what matters the most to us.
We've all seen this in action, on the internet: that person who always casts a discussion in terms of gender inequality, or skin color, or animal rights. It's what's important to them, so they focus on it.
Or that person who always pulls a topic back around to this story they wrote... :)
Field work
IMO, the best way to learn about these aspects of dialogue is by listening closely and objectively to real conversations. When you're part of the conversation, it can be very difficult to maintain the analytical mindframe you need -- or jot down notes, if you need, as well.
That's why I'm an unrepentant eavesdropper. If you're anywhere near me in a diner or a coffee shop, I'm listening. For innocent reasons, though. Honest.
Good dialogue invites the reader to do this with the characters. To listen to them as if they were real people, and by extension think of them as real people.
Word choice
This will tie deeply into world-building, in tomorrow's post, but the more character-based side of the words a character uses depends on his personality and emotional state.
People alter their word choice based on their emotional state, and it's not always a conscious thing. To use myself as an example, in very emotional situations I tend to step back, mentally -- retreat, if you like -- and become objective. And my words change accordingly, sliding toward bigger, more "intellectual" words with less emotional impact. The intent is to defuse the situation and diffuse the emotional content. Though, as I said, it's not really a conscious decision on my part. I'm sure it tells people a lot about my personality, though.
Other people, when they get emotional, plunge into strong, high-impact vocabulary that has an effect like splashing gasoline around a fire. This can include swearing. It could be words with violent connotations. Ultimately, it tells the reader a lot about the character and his temper, though.
Sentence structure
Short sentences feel quick. Long ones slow the pace down. This goes for dialogue as well as narrative, and speaks to the mental state of the character as much as word choice. In a high-stress situation, who has the time to deliver a Shakespearean monologue? Who has the mental distance that it indicates? Sentences naturally shrink when things get rough. Sometimes just down to a single word coded with lots of meaning. (See Coding, which will come later in the week.)
Outside of stressful situations, consistent use of short sentences versus long can indicate something about a character's education, intelligence, or integrity. Or, perhaps, the environment they grew up in -- children will mimic the speech patterns of those around them, unless they make a deliberate choice not to.
Subject matter
On a more abstract level, the things a character talks about tells you what he considers important.
Nobody can maintain perfect awareness of all things; we all prioritize and focus on what matters the most to us.
We've all seen this in action, on the internet: that person who always casts a discussion in terms of gender inequality, or skin color, or animal rights. It's what's important to them, so they focus on it.
Or that person who always pulls a topic back around to this story they wrote... :)
Field work
IMO, the best way to learn about these aspects of dialogue is by listening closely and objectively to real conversations. When you're part of the conversation, it can be very difficult to maintain the analytical mindframe you need -- or jot down notes, if you need, as well.
That's why I'm an unrepentant eavesdropper. If you're anywhere near me in a diner or a coffee shop, I'm listening. For innocent reasons, though. Honest.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Dialogue: the life of the story
I saw the The Avengers recently, and the dialogue was so wonderful as to bring tears to my eyes. I've been watching far too much television and suffering through its clunky, wooden dialogue. CSI, I'm looking at you.
It might be a little hyperbolic, but for me nothing pulls down a story faster than bad -- or even mediocre -- dialogue. I may be overly sensitive. And I've always been frustrated by my inability to put a finger on just what it is that works or doesn't work, so this week I'm going to try to and I'd love to have your two cents, too.
Nothing in your story exists in a vacuum. All the aspects are cross-woven and anchored on each other. Dialogue derives from a number of other aspects of the story, and also is constrained by both reality and what the story needs. I'm not going to hit all the aspects, but here's what I'm trying for:
Character
Dialogue derives from the character speaking it. You already know this: a hard-core surfer chick does not talk like an Oxford professor. An senior politician does not sound like an illegal immigrant struggling to learn English. Lawyers and short order cooks have completely different vocabularies.
World
Dialogue derives from culture. The ideas available to your characters, the priorities they've been told to have, their entire frame of reference -- all derive from the world-building.
How people actually speak vs. useful dialogue
There's a gap between what people mean and the words they say. You can drive a Mack truck through it, sometimes. As writers, we naturally suffer from the urge to be as clear as possible because reader confusion is deadly. Unfortunately, absolute clarity in dialogue can also be deadly because people just don't talk that way. It drains all the life from the dialogue.
And then there's the problem of getting out the information you need the reader to see.
Research vs. development
Dialogue styles can be researched, and should be in many cases. A general appreciation of etymology and the history of the English language can be very useful. However, letting your characters be involved in developing their voices is just as important.
Crits
Let's talk about talk. Let's crit some talk. Send up to 500 words of speechifying with "Dialogue" in the subject line to: unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com before Thursday, May 31. I will post something of my own on Saturday for everyone to attack, if nothing else.
It might be a little hyperbolic, but for me nothing pulls down a story faster than bad -- or even mediocre -- dialogue. I may be overly sensitive. And I've always been frustrated by my inability to put a finger on just what it is that works or doesn't work, so this week I'm going to try to and I'd love to have your two cents, too.
Nothing in your story exists in a vacuum. All the aspects are cross-woven and anchored on each other. Dialogue derives from a number of other aspects of the story, and also is constrained by both reality and what the story needs. I'm not going to hit all the aspects, but here's what I'm trying for:
Character
Dialogue derives from the character speaking it. You already know this: a hard-core surfer chick does not talk like an Oxford professor. An senior politician does not sound like an illegal immigrant struggling to learn English. Lawyers and short order cooks have completely different vocabularies.
World
Dialogue derives from culture. The ideas available to your characters, the priorities they've been told to have, their entire frame of reference -- all derive from the world-building.
How people actually speak vs. useful dialogue
There's a gap between what people mean and the words they say. You can drive a Mack truck through it, sometimes. As writers, we naturally suffer from the urge to be as clear as possible because reader confusion is deadly. Unfortunately, absolute clarity in dialogue can also be deadly because people just don't talk that way. It drains all the life from the dialogue.
And then there's the problem of getting out the information you need the reader to see.
Research vs. development
Dialogue styles can be researched, and should be in many cases. A general appreciation of etymology and the history of the English language can be very useful. However, letting your characters be involved in developing their voices is just as important.
Crits
Let's talk about talk. Let's crit some talk. Send up to 500 words of speechifying with "Dialogue" in the subject line to: unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com before Thursday, May 31. I will post something of my own on Saturday for everyone to attack, if nothing else.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
The Problem with Accents
Yesterday we started talking about how to give our characters a unique voice. I didn't talk about accents at that time, so let's cover it now.
There is a fine line between giving your character voice by writing accents and dialects and completely killing your story. For instance, I remember reading a certain "classic" as a teen where I spent more time in the back of the book looking up translations of the dialogue than reading the story. I hated that book.
This is not that story, but another example I found online:
Here's an example that I like and could read without tearing the pages out of the book:
Think Eliza Doolittle singing, "Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins! Just you wait!"
The accent is a bit more subtle. A little bit will go a long way. If you focus on the rhythm and speech patterns instead of the phonetical spellings, things will work better.
For example, we have a few phrases where I come from that may not be used elsewhere.
One quick note. Listen to your characters. Sometimes they all ready have a voice of their own and you don't need to figure out what it is. And sometimes it doesn't make sense. I'm working on this first draft and my male MC keeps saying ma cherie. I love it when he says it, but it bugs me too. You see, the whole novel has a Celtic vibe running through it, and he does use several Celtic phrases, but ma cherie is so French. *sigh* That's something I'll have to figure out and address before I call this new WIP finished.
Are you ready to share some of your Voice segments? Remember they don't have to have an accent. Just share something that sounds like your character.
Email them to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com with Voice in the subject line.
Helpful Links:
Grammar Girl: Writing Accents and Dialects
Writing Dialogue in Accents and Dialects
Using Slang and Accents When Writing Fictional Dialogue
There is a fine line between giving your character voice by writing accents and dialects and completely killing your story. For instance, I remember reading a certain "classic" as a teen where I spent more time in the back of the book looking up translations of the dialogue than reading the story. I hated that book.
This is not that story, but another example I found online:
“W’en old man Rabbit say ‘scoot,’ dey scooted, en w’en ole Miss Rabbit say ‘scat,’ dey scatted. Dey did dat. En dey kep’ der cloze clean, and day ain’t had no smut on der nose nudder.” Uncle Remus – A Story About Little RabbitsFeel free to shoot arrows at me for not liking the way Uncle Remus wrote that. I'm unapologetic. And most readers today don't have time to figure out what language you're writing in. They want to sit down and disappear into a readily accessible world.
Here's an example that I like and could read without tearing the pages out of the book:
Think Eliza Doolittle singing, "Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins! Just you wait!"
The accent is a bit more subtle. A little bit will go a long way. If you focus on the rhythm and speech patterns instead of the phonetical spellings, things will work better.
For example, we have a few phrases where I come from that may not be used elsewhere.
"I'm a fixin' to go to the store. Do you need anything?"And so on. Most of the time you can suggest the accent in other ways and the reader will hear it even though you don't 'write' it. For example, “her honeyed accent melted off of her tongue, slowly, sweetly, and with the same elongated syllables that her mama used.” (from Writing Dialogue, see below.)
"I'm gonna..."
"Well, bless her heart..."
One quick note. Listen to your characters. Sometimes they all ready have a voice of their own and you don't need to figure out what it is. And sometimes it doesn't make sense. I'm working on this first draft and my male MC keeps saying ma cherie. I love it when he says it, but it bugs me too. You see, the whole novel has a Celtic vibe running through it, and he does use several Celtic phrases, but ma cherie is so French. *sigh* That's something I'll have to figure out and address before I call this new WIP finished.
Are you ready to share some of your Voice segments? Remember they don't have to have an accent. Just share something that sounds like your character.
Email them to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com with Voice in the subject line.
Helpful Links:
Grammar Girl: Writing Accents and Dialects
Writing Dialogue in Accents and Dialects
Using Slang and Accents When Writing Fictional Dialogue
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