Writers in the Storm

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Create unique character voices by varying how they communicate with other characters.

I’m one of those writers who needs to put my characters through a first draft before I figure out who they really are. Tossing them into trouble and watching how they wrangle their way out of it helps me get to know them. Their dialogue and voices are usually interchangeable at first. It’s more about what they say than how they say it, or even why they say it.

The voices usually come to me as I write, and by the end of the first draft, I’ve written snippets of voice that let me see and hear the characters. On draft two, I develop those snippets into fleshed-out characters. 

Since I don’t hear my characters first (like many writers do), I make conscious choices about their voices, and craft them same as I do a setting or the plot. Which keeps my authorial nose out of my character’s business, and lets them be who they are—not extensions of who I am. Characters who all sound like the protagonist or the author is a common first-draft issue for a lot of writers.

The author’s voice sometimes gets in the way of the character’s voice.

The characters themselves might be fully fleshed out and different as can be, but their voices aren’t. That’s only natural since the author is writing the novel. All their vocal quirks and mannerisms sneak in, which can lead to every character in the story sounding more or less the same. They all ask questions the same way, they react to trouble the same way, they greet each other the same way. If you took out all the dialogue tags, it would be hard to tell which character was which.

Character voices that reflect their personalities not only help readers remember them, it helps them connect to those characters as well. When a reader connects to a character, they care, and when they care, they worry what will happen to that character, and bam—you’ve hooked them in the story. Now they’re invested.

Here’s a five-step plan for creating unique character voices for your novel:

Step One: Pick a greeting that reflects their personality.

How a character greets people says a lot about where they grew up, where they live now, and how open they are toward others. A shy character might offer a soft “Hi,” while an always-the-center-of-attention character might shout, “The party train has arrived!”

For example, imagine one character is waiting outside a restaurant for another. When they approach, the waiting character greets them with:

• “Good afternoon.”
• “Yo, whassup!”
• “Hey.”
• “Oh my gosh, it’s so nice to see you.”
• “You’re late.”

Did you picture a different character for each of those greetings? Each greeting hints at the type of personality that character might have, from formal, to rude, to enthusiastic.

Step Two: Decide how they answer questions.

How someone responds to a question can tell you a lot about them. If you establish a character as a shy, introvert who has a hard time opening up, it might not ring true if they start giving speeches when asked a question. A non-stop talker is the right character to go to if you need to convey information to readers—just make sure they’d know that info so it doesn’t come across as an infodump.

But a character acting out of character can pique reader curiosity. A chatty gossip will raise eyebrows if they suddenly start giving one-word answers to everything. Why are they so quiet?

For example, what kind of characters do you picture based on these responses to… “Did you go to the movies last night?”

• “Yep. Any pizza left?”
• “I did. Jo and I went to that old art theater they just remodeled on Main. They’re showing these cheesy old westerns. It was a total blast.”
• “Stay out of my business.”
• Shrug. “Nothin’ better to do.”
• “Oh dear, I should have called you. I’m so terribly sorry.” 
• “Yeah, with Juan.”

These answers do more than just answer a yes or no question. Many of these answers lead to more questions. Is character one trying to change the subject? Why does character five feel so guilty about not calling?

Step Three: Decide how they respond to problems and situations.

The true face of a character appears when things go wrong and there’s no time to lie or consider what they’re saying. How do they react? Do they ask questions or make statements about what to do? Do they try to help or shift blame? Are they naturally defensive or do they jump to resolve the issue?

If a character is thoughtful and analytical, their voice will reflect that, and their response to a problem will be thoughtful and analytical. A hot-head who never thinks before they speak will probably gush out all kinds of suggestions—often aggressive options—without thinking them through. Someone who doesn’t care might offer bland platitudes or the most obvious and generic solution.

For example, say a character comes to your protagonist for help. Their response might be:

• “Okay, walk me through the problem. Exactly what happened?”
• “Screw that—here’s what you do.”
• “Just tell them you can’t do it.”
• “I don’t have time for your crap.”
• “Sucks to be you.”

The character’s personality will show in how they react to and interact with others. It’ll also show in how they handle their own problems.

Step Four: Let their vocabulary reflect their education.

Education plays a role in how we communicate. Is this character someone with a large vocabulary who likes to use it, or someone with a limited vocabulary who uses a lot of slang or clichés? Take it a step further and think about why they speak as they do. Are they self-conscious about their Ph.D. and purposefully try to sound dumber to fit in (or hide something), or are they a smart person who never got past high school and tries hard to sound more educated?

Maybe that boisterous greeter who makes statements instead of asking questions is really insecure about their lack of education and overcompensates by always acting like they know what to do or what's going on. Or the meek greeter asks questions because they’re not sure they really understand what's happening and doesn't want to appear dumb. Or the friendly greeter asks a lot of questions to determine the best course of action because they truly want to help and has the smarts to offer good advice. (See how these all build upon each other?)

For example, if one character makes a mistake, how does the character respond?

• “Jeeze, ya made things worse.”
• “Well, that exacerbated the situation.”
• “Out of the frying pan and into the fiery pits of despair.”
• Scoff. “Dumb f@#$.”

No matter what level of education or intelligence the character has, readers (and other characters) will make assumptions based on these different responses.

Step Five: Use words and mannerisms to reflect where the character came from.

Different regions have different dialects, slang, and terms. Saying pop versus soda, crayfish versus crawdad, everyone versus y'all. Where someone grew up affects not only what words they use, but how they interact with others.

A Southern genteel upbringing could mean the character is polite and sweet, yet aloof (cause good folks don't pry) or a terrible gossip (cause prying means caring, don't ya know), an inner-city survivor might take control of every room they walk into because that's what it took to survive. The suburban kid might do the opposite of what everyone expects because they’re tired of conforming.

For example:

• “Sweetie, I don’t mean to pry, but you look sadder than a soaked kitten.” She patted the couch beside her. “Come now, tell me all about it.”
• He squared his shoulders as he tread into the room, then met the hard gazes of each man at the table. No backing down. No looking away. He nodded once. “Hey.”
• She tossed her head and her multitude of tiny braids swayed, free as branches on a tree. “You just don’t get it, man,” she told her mother, dressed in a suit that cost enough to feed a starving village for a week. “You can’t think in that designer strait jacket. I gotta be me. I gotta be free.”

Personality plays a large role in how a character sounds. Their voice will reflect that personality and color both their dialogue and internal thoughts.

Don’t stress over making it perfect early on.

Just getting the information down is fine for a first draft. It can take time to find the right voice for a character.

Play with word choice and how that specific character with that specific background and personality would speak and think. Odds are you have hints scattered in the manuscript to help guide you, so look for anything that feels like it captured the character—especially any positive feedback you received from crit partners.

For fun, follow these steps and share a snippet of conversation between two of your characters in the comments (or make up two new ones). If you’re stuck on what to write about, have them answer the “Did you go to the movies last night” question.

About Janice

Janice Hardy is the award-winning author and founder of the popular writing site Fiction University, where she helps writers improve their craft and navigate the crazy world of publishing. Not only does she write about writing, she teaches workshops across the country, and her blog has been recognized as a Top Writing Blog by Writer’s Digest. She also spins tales of adventure for both teens and adults, and firmly believes that doing terrible things to her characters makes them more interesting (in a good way). She loves talking with writers and readers, and encourages questions of all types—even the weird ones.

Find out more about writing at www.Fiction-University.com, or visit her author’s site at www.JaniceHardy.com. Subscribe to her newsletter to stay updated on future books, workshops, and events and receive her book, 25 Ways to Strengthen Your Writing Right Now, free.

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by Karen DeBonis

For those who were born with the instinct to write, you probably figured out your writing rhythm—the ebb and flow of your writing practice, and the beat and tempo of your unique voice—early on. I wasn’t one of those kids who filled notebooks with short stories, or wrote under the covers at night by flashlight. As a teen or young adult, I never aspired to write the next great American novel or publish my prose in a magazine.

In other words, I’m not a born writer. Latecomers like me often write to the beat of someone else’s drummer until they discover their own rhythm.

Writing with a purpose

When I stepped on the writer’s path twenty years ago, it was because I had a purpose: to write a memoir about my young son’s struggle with a brain tumor. And it wasn’t even my idea—as often happens when someone experiences a life-altering experience, friends told me I “had to write my story.”

So, I began.

I wrote, took classes, read memoir, joined critique groups. It wasn’t a bad start, but I definitely took the long road to The End. This was 1999, when computers and the internet were as new and intimidating as a colicky baby.

I didn’t read writing magazines or books on craft, and I abandoned the first writing conference I attended in 2001. After only two days, I was overwhelmed with the sadness of my story.

I stopped writing. The book became a “Someday Project,” last in line behind a day job, a needy old house, and raising two sons. One of those boys was recovering from a brain tumor.

Fifteen years later, after a medical retirement, it was time to finish what I had started.

Better late than never, right?

Advice from the pros

The depth and breadth of information available to new writers is overwhelming. It’s often difficult to know where to start. Blogs like WITS, Janet Hardy’s Fiction University, Jami Gold’s and Kristen Lamb’s blogs, Elizabeth Craig’s Writer’s Knowledge Base, and Writers Helping Writers have an amazing amount of helpful information and all of them are searchable if you are looking for some specific how-to.

Take notes, bookmark pages, or print out what’s useful and put it in a notebook, but search out the tips that work best for you.

Here are the pieces of advice that many writers follow:

• Write every day
• Set daily and monthly word count goals
• Participate in timed writing sessions
• Play music before your writing session to inspire you
• Write in a crowded coffeeshop, or outdoors, or pull the shades indoors, per Stephen King, to eliminate all distraction
• Don’t edit as you write
• Avoid adverbs, passive voice, unnecessary “thats,” and starting a piece with dialogue.

I tried all these tips (and failed at many). But recently, I’ve come to understand my own writing rhythms—what works and doesn’t work, what I can accept and what I can improve as I create a more harmonious life of writing.

Below are my seven – you will likely have your own.

My 7 Writing Rhythms

1. I don’t write every day.

My husband is retired, so I tell him, “I’m going to work,” when I head to the dining room, as a reminder not to read me the news headlines or his Home Depot list.

“Work” may mean writing and revising, but more often, it refers to myriad other tasks necessary in becoming a published author: reading, engaging on social media, working with critique partners, developing programs offered through my website. I usually “work” a few hours every day, but it’s not always writing.

2. My best writing happens in my head.

Creative nonfiction writers will often say they write to know what they think. I’ve experienced this, but my ah-ha moments don’t happen until my final revisions.

In the meantime, if I don’t have a good idea where I’m heading, I end up with pages and pages  of crappy writing. It doesn’t even achieve that first draft status. If I spend the time allowing story ideas to percolate in my head, there is much more clarity to those initial drafts and the work is more productive.

I’ve concluded I’m not a “pantser” or a “plotter.” Instead, I’m more of a “planner.”

3. I overthink everything.

As a memoirist, overthinking is a gift. I can unwrap deeply complex and often universal truths, as long as I have 80,000 words in which to display them. In a blog or personal essay, however, it feels like reaching into my tornado of thoughts to pull out a toothpick. I’m still learning how to be selective and brief in how deeply I dig.

4. I’m a slow writer.

In part because I overthink things,  and because I’m relatively new at my craft, it takes me f-o-r-e-v-e-r to finish a piece. I can easily take 24 hours to write a 1000-word blog, and I don’t mean it’s done in a day. I mean 24 in-my-chair hours logged over days or weeks.

Fortunately, I don’t rely on writing for income.I write mostly on spec, not on deadline, which helps my stress level enormously.

And I know speed (without sacrificing quality) is a skill I can develop.

5. Silence is my muse.

Music, coffee-house chatter, people in my vicinity, even buzzing bees outdoors are distractions. I function best indoors in as much silence as possible. But, unlike Stephen King, I need visual distractions: my lavender orchid, the tray of candles I seldom light, a view of the outdoors. Like setting a scene, I arrange the room with details that move the story forward.

6. Moving my body gets me unstuck.

When I’m searching for the perfect word, or metaphor, or physical disruption to convey confusion, I can’t sit still. I have to leave my writing table to make a cup of tea or walk around the house or sharpen pencils—anything to get my body active. While I’m moving, my mind is busy (see #2 above.)

7. I break rules

When I completely eliminate the passive voice, gerunds, and adverbs, my prose seems stilted. Editors: feel free to disagree. But I recently read this article about friendships by a literary agent I follow.

I loved it so much, I read it twice. Then I realized the author broke some rules with her very first sentence: “‘You know what really drives me crazy?’ Silvia was saying…”

Not only did she open with dialogue, but, “was saying?” Should’t that be, “said,” according to the pros? And yet, the conversational style captivated me.

It’s okay to break some rules if the writing is fresh and it feels right. Editors: feel free to cut.

The benefits of tuning in to your unique rhythm.

Tuning in to my writing rhythm has been a process of self-discovery. Owning your process, whatever it may be, is empowering.

It helped me to embrace that I am a writer who doesn’t write daily, who jumps out of her seat, who overthinks. This open-minded acceptance of my  own writing path helped clarify that all-important question: What is my book about?

It’s not about my son’s brain tumor after all, at least not entirely. It’s about me. It’s the story of my deeply ingrained need to please and the life-threatening consequences for my family. And it was the months and years of overthinking that opened the door to the real story.

What are your unique rhythms of writing? How did you discover your process? Please tell us about it in the comments!

About Karen

Karen began writing twenty years ago after her eleven-year-old son was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Those early pages are now a real-life medical mystery about a mother who must overcome her toxic agreeability if she's to save herself and her son. The manuscript is currently available for representation.

A happy empty-nester with her husband of thirty-nine years, Karen lives and writes in upstate New York. You can find out more about her journey at www.KarenDeBonis.com.

By Julie Glover

The last time I was here, I gave five quick tips from my workshop on “Writing Dialogue That’s Real But Even Better.” But there are ten tips in that presentation, so here are the second five!

Remember, all of these are subtle changes that, over the course of a novel, add up to a smoother and better read.

6. Limit verbal graffiti.

Real dialogue is littered with verbal graffiti, which includes the ums, uhs, likes, yeah, you know, and other fairly meaningless words. My own favorite is just, with all of my characters just doing this and just doing that. Those words typically aren’t pulling their weight, so you should discard as many of them as you can. (By the way, curse words used too frequently and/or flippantly can become verbal graffiti, actually distracting from the dialogue between those words.)

Before

“What are you doing?”

My body seized up, and my eyes pinched closed. I knew that voice.

When I opened my eyes, Jet was looming over me. Looking as gorgeous as ever, ebony-black curls rippling around his face and eyes so blue I could swim laps in them. But he also held a searing stare of suspicion.

“Um, nothing.” I glanced around to make sure he was the only one watching.

“You don’t look like you’re doing nothing.” He pointed with his good hand at my bag. “Like what’s that?”

“Um, nothing.”

“What is it, Faye?”

“Seriously, why should I tell you?” I dropped my caught-off-guard tone and moved to my he’s-still-a-liar tone. He’d hid plenty from me, so whatever I was up to was none of his business.

After

“What are you doing?”

My body seized up, and my eyes pinched closed. I knew that voice.

When I opened my eyes, Jet was looming over me. Looking as gorgeous as ever, ebony-black curls rippling around his face and eyes so blue I could swim laps in them. But he also held a searing stare of suspicion.

“Um, nothing.” I glanced around to make sure he was the only one watching.

“You don’t look like you’re doing nothing.” He pointed with his good hand at my bag. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“What is it, Faye?”

“Why should I tell you?” I dropped my caught-off-guard tone and moved to my he’s-still-a-liar tone. He’d hid plenty from me, so whatever I was up to was none of his business.

Above example from My Team's Fairy Godmother.

I kept one um, because Faye really is caught off guard doing something she isn't supposed to do (with fairy dust!). But the second one wasn't needed, and the like and seriously were unnecessary too.

7. Check beginnings of dialogue.

Writers have a tendency to begin dialogue in similar ways, no matter which character is speaking. Common sentence beginnings include so, well, and you know. Check the first words or phrases used in your dialogue, and make sure that (1) you’re not overusing certain ones, and (2) different characters don’t always use the same words and phrases.

Before

“So for a moment, I thought you might be dead.” He drove slowly, more slowly than necessary, and I leaned my head against the door’s window and peered over at him. “You know, I saw your head hit that rock and then you lying still. So...I figured you cracked your cranium.”

“My cranium?” Disbelief shattered my restraint. “You’re talking about my cranium, and you’re a freakin’ bird?”

“Well, hawk,” he said calmly. Like we were discussing Friday night plans, instead of supernatural transformation.

After

“For a moment, I thought you might be dead.” He drove slowly, more slowly than necessary, and I leaned my head against the door’s window and peered over at him. “I saw your head hit that rock and then you lying still. I figured you cracked your cranium.”

“My cranium?” Disbelief shattered my restraint. “You’re talking about my cranium, and you’re a freakin’ bird?”

“Hawk,” he said calmly. Like we were discussing Friday night plans, instead of supernatural transformation.

Above example from My Neighbor's Shapeshifter.

There's nothing wrong starter words like So, but they can become too frequent, thus distracting from the rest of the dialogue, where the real spotlight should be.

8. Get real with sentence fragments, interruptions, and trailing off.

Your junior high English teacher isn’t here to stop you from using sentence fragments. In fact, they work well in dialogue, because that’s how we talk. We also get interrupted and trail off at times, so use those tools as well when it works for your scene.

Before

“I don’t like Rebecca, but more importantly, I don’t want her to scoop me. I want to interview you myself.”

His half-smile drew into a full-mouthed laugh. “I thought you were protecting me from some heinous evil.”

I chuckled too, laughing less at his statement than the irony. Who’d expect a vampire to want protection?

“See,” I continued, “Rebecca and I are both up for newspaper editor in the spring, and if she got an exclusive with a vampire, she'd stand a better chance of becoming editor.”

“Ah, but if you got an exclusive with a vampire, you'd become editor. Too bad it’s merely an interview request. I had hoped you were making romantic gestures.”

After

“I don’t like Rebecca, but more importantly, I don’t want her to scoop me. I want to interview you myself.”

His half-smile drew into a full-mouthed laugh. “And here I thought you were protecting me from some heinous evil.”

I chuckled too, laughing less at his statement than the irony. Who’d expect a vampire to want protection?

“See,” I continued, “Rebecca and I are both up for newspaper editor in the spring, and if she got an exclusive with a vampire—”

“Ah, but if you got an exclusive with a vampire… Too bad it’s merely an interview request. I had hoped you were making romantic gestures.”

Above example from My School's Vampire.

Fragment, interruption, and trailing off—check! But it flows fine and reads more realistically. (Despite there being a vampire. ~grin~)

9. Read dialogue aloud.

Want to know how real and impactful your dialogue is? Read it aloud. Not all the stuff around, but merely the dialogue—as if that part is a stage play. Both reading and hearing your character’s dialogue will alert you to issues you wouldn’t otherwise pick up. You can also try a text-to-speech function to have your dialogue read to you.

No example, but try it out!

Natural Readers Online

10. Have fun with it. This is your chance!

Think of your favorite book or movie, and I bet one of its strengths is the dialogue. Maybe there’s a memorable scene or line, or the distinct voice of a particular character appeals to you, or the banter heightens tension or humor.

You, too, can draw in your reader through well-written dialogue! Rather than think of it as serious business, have fun with it. Get creative. Try out various options. Give your characters their own speaking style. Say that thing you wish you’d said in the moment that you only thought of later.

Example A

She unfolds her arms and chuckles. “You should watch yourself, Courtney. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be happy if they found you misbehaving.”

“Don’t worry,” I say, finding my inner pluck. “I’d have to rob a bank or build a meth lab to tip the scales away from you.”

Example B

I pull the sable brown wood carving from my bag and clutch it briefly to my chest, praying its T-shape will do more to put this demon in its place. Holding it out in front of my body, I ask, “What’s your name, demon?”

Nickie laughs, all throaty and wicked.

“O-kay,” I mumble, “Cruella, it is.”

Above examples from My Sister's Demon.

I'd never think of those retorts on the spot! That took mulling over, but it was fun to include them—as if I'd be that witty in the moment.

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As you can see from this post and the last one, most of the time the tweaks are subtle. But over the course of a full novel, or even short story, following these ten quick tips can improve the dialogue's flow and impact.

About Julie

Julie Glover is an award-winning author of mysteries and young adult fiction. She also writes supernatural suspense under the pen name Jules Lynn.

Her most recent release is My Sister's Demon, the first of five YA paranormal short stories coming out this year.

When not writing, she collects boots, practices rampant sarcasm, and advocates for good grammar and the addition of the interrobang as a much-needed punctuation mark.

Top image credit: Christin Hume on Unsplash