Post #202 February 10, 2020

“He Said What?  Effective Dialogue for a Good Story”

 

Every writer of fiction, every story-teller, must deal with fictional dialogue.  Writing dialogue is a true art.  That’s because dialogue has to serve many masters in any story.

Here’s snatch of dialogue that opens my sf novel The Farpool, from the very first page…

 

Angie Gilliam squirmed a bit more but it was no use.  Something sharp was pinching her butt.  The weight of Chase Meyer on top of her made it hurt like crazy. 

“Ouch…that hurts like hell…what the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry…just trying to…it’s the Cove.  Water’s choppy today—“

Angie twisted and contorted herself to ease the pressure.  That was better.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, huh?”

They had packed a meal and grabbed a boat from Turtle Key Surf and Board—that was Mack Meyer’s shop, Chase’s Dad.  They had puttered along the coast off Shelley Beach until they came to Half Moon Cove—they always did it in Half Moon Cove—and found a secluded spot a few dozen meters off shore…right under some cypress trees.  Always smelled great there.

Then Chase and Angie wolfed down their sandwiches, dialed up the right music on Chase’s wristpad so they could slam some jam properly and settled down to business.

That’s when the wind fetched up and the Cove got way choppier than it usually did.  Most of the time, you could lay a place setting on top of the water and have dinner like home, it was so placid.  But not today.

“Ouch…look…let’s give it a rest, okay…something’s not quite right…”

Chase groaned and pulled out of her, cinching up his shorts as he did so.  He lay back against the side of the boat, and turned the volume down on his pad…whoever it was screeching on that go-tone needed a few more lessons.  He checked the growing waves beyond the Cove and that’s when he spied the waterspout.

“Jeez…look at that!” 

Angie pulled up her own shorts, ran fingers through her dark brown page-boy hair and sucked in a breath.

“Wow---that’s so wicked--“

There was a strange, wave-like agitation on the horizon just beyond the Cove, maybe a few kilometers out to sea, past Shell Key, easily.  For a few moments, a slender multi-hued waterspout danced just above the waves, like a gray-green rope writhing and hissing on the horizon.  It only lasted a few moments, then it collapsed.  There was a calm period, then the ocean began seething again and became more agitated than before.  Waves piled into the Cove, nearly upending the little boat.  Before long, another spout had formed, all in an odd sort of rhythm. 

 

In the dialogue above, notice that I’ve thrown in some colloquial sounding words, some slang, chopped it up a bit, yet you can tell what’s going on and how the characters feel about what’s going on.

Okay, so what’s going on here?  Dialogue serves many purposes…

1. Dialogue has to sound real, without being real.

Think about the speech you hear around you all the time.  It’s filled with ums, uhs, fits and starts and circuitous, poorly constructed, often grammatically incorrect sentences.  That’s the way real people talk…in any language.  Dialogue has to sound like that, without actually being like that.  That’s why it’s an art.  A few selected ums and ahs goes a long way in fictional dialogue.  It leads the reader’s inner ear to hear something that sounds real but it also performs other fictional duties as well.

     2. Dialogue has to advance the story.

Look again at the passage above.  What do you know about the story: two lovers are getting it on in a canoe in some kind of cove.  Their little tryst isn’t turning out so well, so they stop.  They see a water spout.  The ocean starts heaving.  Strange things are happening.  All this on one page.  All dialogue has to do something to move the story along and it has to do this through the words of the characters.  They see and experience things.  They report and comment on what they see or hear or experience.  They respond verbally to what’s happening: “…ouch, that hurts, stop doing that….”  The reader lives vicariously through the characters so dialogue is really important….it has to sound real.  You want the reader to empathize with your characters.  Dialogue helps make the connection.

      3. Dialogue has to reveal character and convey feelings and emotions.

There are ways other than dialogue to do this, narrative ways.  The writer could just say: “Jane felt sad and wished the pain would stop.”  But in general, it’s always better to show rather than tell.  Show Jane reacting in a way that conveys sadness.  “Tears flowed down Jane’s cheeks and she sighed, ‘I wish I was dead…I can’t take this anymore.’”  This reads a lot more powerfully and dramatic.  The dialogue, when done well, puts the reader in the character’s shoes and practically compels sympathy, empathy, all those things a writer or story-teller wants.  Now we want to know more about why Jane wishes she were dead, what’s driven her to this point.  Hopefully, the writer and the story will reveal that.  Done well, dialogue can really establish a strong emotional bond between fictional characters and the reader.

Fictional dialogue carries a lot of weight.  It’s not easy to do well.  You don’t normally talk in stilted, formal phrases (unless the story requires it) so your characters shouldn’t either.  Write dialogue like you talk and like you hear other people talking.  Then clean it up a little and bend it to the story’s needs.  As for me, whenever I hear a particularly colorful word or phrase, I write it down.  Usually it’ll turn up somewhere later in a story.

The next post to The Word Shed comes on February 17.  

See you then.

Phil B.