Let’s talk about talking. The three different types of dialogue are 1) direct, 2) indirect, and 3) mixed.
Direct dialogue is
the most dramatic form. By convention, direct dialogue requires quotation marks
and each speaker gets his or her own paragraph. At the end of each speaker’s
part, simple attributions (he said, she said) are best, and even they can be
omitted when it’s clear who is speaking.
“You?” she
said. “No way.”
“Trust me,” he
said, “in a big way.”
“That’s just it;
I don’t trust you.”
While “he said,
she said” are virtually silent and invisible to the reader, the menagerie of
other attributions (asked, answered,
replied, retorted, added, commented, snarled, whined, etc.) draw attention
to themselves and, like blush, should be used sparingly. Also, resist the urge
to glom adverbs onto the attributions (she
said grudgingly, he said wolfishly,
etc.). Adverbs are not needed and are often used to explain what is already
obvious to the reader (“I despise you!” she said angrily).
Using indirect dialogue can summarize a conversation in a brief
report that,
without quoting, still conveys richness:
Sheryl said that
going to bed with David was selfish, crazy and impossible to resist.
Mixed dialogue,
the third type, is a hybrid of direct and indirect:
Rob told Trisha
she was narcissistic. That she paid no attention to what was right for him.
Their pink bedroom with the four-poster bed and lace curtains was a good
example. He told her, “I don’t want frills and flowers!” He said it two or
three times.
People speak variously and dialogue is an effective
way to establish unique characters. A common critique in writing circles is
that a story’s characters all talk alike. Hear the difference in the diction of
these two speakers:
“I’m not a forensic scientist,
but it appears to me the bullet entered her body from behind.”
“Hell, you don’t
need to be no expert on this stuff. Sure as hell she got offed from the back.”
When we converse, we communicate not just with words but with our bodies.
Realistic dialogue is more than a sequence of quotations; it includes nervous
grins, fiddling with fingernails, lowered eyes, raised eyebrows: our whole
human language. Such details and actions that punctuate dialogue are called
“beats.” Writing good beats makes for vivid conversations that your readers can
readily follow, and allows you to show which character is speaking without
using attributes.
“Sorry, but that’s not what we agreed to.” Johnny tapped the contract on
his desk, then flipped to the last page and held it up. “This is your signature,
right?
I was doomed. I nodded and stood to leave.
“Just a sec.” He
opened a drawer and took out a Glock handgun. “Take this. It goes along with
the envelope.”
Beats are also
used for conveying a realistic rhythm of speech. Instead of writing “he
paused,” toss in a beat:
“Divorce?” He dragged
on his Camel. “Really?” He screwed his mouth to the side and blew out smoke. “How
long you been married, four, five months?”
“One hundred
forty one days.” She glanced at her watch. “And eight hours, fifteen minutes.”
She gave an unhappy laugh. “But who’s counting?”
Also consider using sound effects as a rhythmic element in your beats:
“A hundred dollars.” He stacked a log vertically on the stump. “What you
mean is…” He swung the axe and the wood split halfway with a loud crack! “…a hundred more.” He swung
again. Crack! The split halves fell
onto piles on either side of the stump. “That makes a couple hundred.” He
stacked another log without looking at his son. “I got to ask myself if you’re
worth it.”
Lastly, keep in mind that the words in a dialogue reveal only the surface.
Like icebergs, most of a conversation’s weight is hidden below. You can create
tension between what is visible and what is submerged by keeping the dialogue
evasive, filled with unspoken feelings.
If he used one more French phrase tonight, she was
going to spit out the Bordeaux he ordered for her and get a pitcher of Bud. Why
was he showing off? He grew up right here in Burnt Mill, same as her. He worked
at the lumberyard, like her dad and brothers, and he drove a Ford pick-up, not
a Lamborghini.
“J'aime vos beaux yeux verts.”
She smiled. “Oui, monsieur!”
She had no idea what he said. By now any other guy would have said something
sweet, maybe complimented her on her green eyes. How do you say in French,
“Billy Ray, just be yourself!”
