Recently I was musing about my writing career. I’ve been fortunate to have published almost 60 books. While I’m not likely to make the New York Time Best Seller List with my Love Inspired romances, I’m pleased with my ‘body of work.’ (My actual ‘body’ needs considerably more work. <g>)
How have I succeeded? Determination.
When I was as yet unpublished, my first agent called to tell me my latest submission had been rejected. That rejection was not my first nor my last. She went on to say, “Older women can’t write love scenes.”
Huh? I wasn’t that old; at least my long-term memory was excellent, and I have always been blessed with a really good imagination.
I remained polite until we hung up. Then I said aloud, “Watch me!”
Subsequently, I managed to author more than 40 books for various Harlequin secular lines – most included a love scene or two.
I come by my determination naturally. Or perhaps it comes from my mother, who when told in business school that she didn’t type fast enough to get a job, she simply went out and got a job.
When I was about four-years-old, my older brother and his friend were playing with their toy soldiers. Digging trenches. Leading tank attacks. Shouting ‘bang’ you’re dead.
Naturally, I wanted to play too. I had my own collection of lead soldiers. My brother was used to having me tag along; not so his friend Skipper. To get rid of me, Skipper offered to buy me a lead soldier (the plastic ones were boring) if I would dig a hole to China.
That sounded like a good idea to me. But I hadn’t been born yesterday. I asked Skipper to be more specific about the depth of the hole I was to dig. He found a stick that was maybe two or three feet long to use as a measure. So off I went to dig the prescribed hole.
In a matter of an hour or two I was back to play with my brother and Skipper. Poor Skipper procrastinated about getting me the promised soldier until finally my mother intervened.
In theatre, dialogue is king. It is the lifeline of the story. Character's lines bouncing back and forth between each other. Confiding, conspiring, commiserating, coercing, or caring. Dialogue works to create emotion, conflict, show character, and it always moves the dramatic action forward.
It seems that in fiction writing, dialogue isn’t seen as being as important as it is in theatre. Although I think I should be. You should too.
When I write, dialogue comes first.
When I read, dialogue had better woo me.
When I edit, dialogue is one of the main factors between flop and fabulous.
The purpose of dialogue sometimes gets lost with writers. They save it till last, rush through it because they are unsure of themselves, don’t put enough in because they are unsure of themselves, or worse, the writer thinks it’s easy because it’s “the same as copying down a conversation.”
Do not fall victim to these dialogue blunders.
Dialogue is just as important as every other aspect of fiction writing.
Refresher, reminder, recount of the purpose of dialogue:
Show character.
Show conflict.
Show voice.
Show action.
Show backstory
Show story.
Who doesn’t think character, conflict, voice, action, backstory, and story are important to fiction writing? A show of hands?
Didn’t think so.
Here is an example of dialogue that really wooed and wowed me. I was wooed because I can tell the author took her time and thought about each word of this dialogue, it was not slopped together. I was wowed because of the amount of tension, character, relationship, and voice oozing from this little scene. You will see what I mean.
In the example I’ve taken out everything but the dialogue, so you can see how strong it is on its own. In the style of a theatre script. After, I will dramatically dissect the scene for you to get a closer look.
To note: When I edit, I will pull out all dialogue to analyze, separate from the other pieces of writing craft. To see how well the conversation is built. Because of my background in theatre, I look at the scene as if it were in a play.
Short background on the example scene fromDarkness, My Old Friend, a book written by the lovely and absolutely full of talent, Lisa Unger. Eloise is a widowed psychic. Ray, retired detective, is her long time friend and ex-lover. They both have somewhat sad pasts, and are still drawn to each other. Here, they talk about an active case from one of her visions.
Before we start, the key to not letting the character names distract you: don’t read them. Keep them in your periphery and concentrate on the lines. It might take a second to get used to it.
Ray: Where were you? Out partying with your new best friend, Jones Cooper?
Eloise: Not exactly. Do you want to come in?
Ray: I thought you were retiring?
Eloise: Vacationing is not the same thing as retiring, anyway, what choice did I have? I couldn’t just let him drown.
Ray: I thought you had a policy about speaking your vision but not getting physically involved. You know, after what happened in Kansas.
Eloise: I changed my policy, just this once.
Ray: Because of Maggie Cooper?
Eloise: Maybe. (pause) What about your visit with Claudia Miller?
Ray: She wouldn’t talk to me. And the Holt house? I poked around in there some. The place is a nightmare. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Eloise: Some boxes stay locked.
Ray: I guess you heard.
Eloise: About Michael? Yes, I heard.
Ray: You knew all along, didn’t you?
Eloise: I suspected.
Ray: She told you.
Eloise: She hinted.
Ray: This is ugly work, Eloise.
Dramatic Dissection:
Ray: Where were you? Out partying with your new best friend, Jones Cooper?
Eloise: Not exactly. Do you want to come in?
Ray: I thought you were retiring?
Eloise: Vacationing is not the same thing as retiring, anyway, what choice did I have? I couldn’t just let him drown.
I see: Friendship. Joking banter. Candidness. Honesty.
Ray: I thought you had a policy about speaking your vision but not getting physically involved. You know, after what happened in Kansas?
Now Unger shows us a little more meat to their relationship.
Ray asks a hard question. He presses her a little bit. Not to be mean, but because he cares. Something terrible happened in the Kansas situation and he doesn’t want her to get hurt again.
Eloise: I changed my policy, just this once.
She is acknowledging his concern and not fighting back.
Ray: Because of Maggie Cooper?
He presses further by using a name that will hopefully make her pay attention to what she is doing. Just an extra nudge to make his point.
Eloise: Maybe. (pause)What about your visit with Claudia Miller?
One word answers always tell us more than the one word. “Maybe” tells us she isn’t ready to tell him he is right…but he is probably right.
I added a simple pause to show the length of time passing between her lines. In the book, there is a physical moment between Eloise and Ray, two sentences worth, and then she speaks again. The silence is like an unsaid exclamation point. It means she is acknowledging Ray’s point and it is emotional, even now. There is an emotional shift between her two lines.
Her second line after the emotional shift is not on the current subject, she might as well be saying: “End of topic. I get your point. Moving on to the issue at hand.”
Ray: She wouldn’t talk to me. And the Holt house? I poked around in there some. The place is a nightmare. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
He is sharing information in this line, but he is also accepting her push to move on to the next subject. It is also a gesture of understanding and respecting her feelings.
Notice how much he crams in here. His tone completely changed. Almost nervously. As if he is afraid he overstepped his friendship bounds with the moment before.
Ray is sharing specific information, even though it sounds haphazard. As you see in the next lines, he is looking for an answer.
Eloise: Some boxes stay locked.
This is a HUGE showing line. It’s up to reader discretion if she is speaking about the fact that the woman he went to interview wasn’t forthcoming with any information, or if she is still talking about the Kansas situation. One or the other or both, they all show an increase in tension and a big hint to the reader that not everything is on the surface.
Ray: I guess you heard.
Eloise: About Michael? (no reply) Yes, I heard.
These two lines could have been said like this:
Ray: I guess you heard about Michael?
Eloise: Yes, I heard.
But Lisa Unger wanted to show more than just a traditional question/answer. Ray is saying something else when he doesn’t insert Michaels name into his question. He’s leading her on a bit, letting her fill in the blank. An interesting tactic to force her into admitting something without going through the motions of a handful of question/answers.
This produces tension. Thank you, Lisa Unger!
Eloise: About Michael? (no reply) Yes, I heard.
She answers the question with a question, which really isn’t an answer. Her half-hearted attempt to dislodge guilt from his questioning tactic.
When he doesn’t answer, she knows he is waiting for a real answer. She chooses to use the same word he used in the question, “heard.” She doesn’t disclose any more or less information, therefore trying to softening her guilt again.
Ray: You knew all along, didn’t you?
Only after she gives up the answer, does he make an official accusation.
Eloise: I suspected.
Ray: She told you.
Eloise: She hinted.
Look at the cadence and weight of these lines. So much is being said in these seven words!
Eloise: I suspected.
Eloise tries deflecting his accusation again.
Ray: She told you.
Ray is not conceding. And not using any backwards interviewing techniques anymore. He is telling her not to distort the facts because he knows the truth.
Eloise: She hinted.
Finally she gives in and tells the truth, but even in doing so, she tries to stay out of the dirt, with another sidestep. It could have been written like this:
Ray: She told you.
Eloise: Yes, she told me.
This doesn’t show character and relationship as well as the original version, does it? Nope.
Hinted instead of told.
Ray: This is ugly work, Eloise.
Truth be told, I’m not sure if he is talking about the case, or if he is saying he doesn’t like the fact that they are forced to play this word game as a consequence of their involvement in other people’s indiscretions. Especially when they are such close friends. Either way, the line holds emotion. He uses her name here, instead of at the end of one of his accusations above (which would have been a sign of increased anger.) Here, the use of her name softens the line. It’s almost a plea for continued friendship and honesty in any upcoming conflicts they might be up against.
Gosh, I’m glad I didn’t post one of her high tension scenes. This blog would’ve ended up being 20 pages long with all of the fabulous insights I could pull from that dialogue.
I know it seems daunting to want to stand next to Lisa Unger in the bestselling dialogue arena, but it can be done.
Here are a few building blocks to get you started. Remember they can and should be used for high and low tension scenes. Every chunk of dialogue is important. These building blocks should be reviewed before, during, and in the editing phase of writing the scene.
This list is just the beginning. The waters of learning how to write dialogue run deeeep.
What are your POV character’s goals walking into the scene? List them.
Do they change throughout the scene?
Have you written enough emphasis around the change, or left it understated for more intrigue?
What are your non-POV character’s goals walking into the scene? List them.
Do they get in the way of the POVs goals? Decide if the interference should be exaggerated or underplayed.
What story moving information are you going to share in the scene? List it.
Make sure character and voice are different for each of the characters in the scene. Drag out your character sketches!
Think about the rate-of-speech, attitude, word usage for each character.
Do they match the character, the moment?
Differ from each other?
Show Highs and Lows?
Show the correct emotion for the scene?
What kind of changes or sacrifices will be made inside each character through this dialogue?
Remember to show these inner changes through voice, action, body language, and dialogue. Don’t leave it all up to internalizations.
How is your POV character affected by the conversation?
Did it raise the stakes?
Change them emotionally?
Motivate a new direction of action?
Make sure this dialogue scene moves the story forward. It cannot be chitchat just to be chitchat. These conversations must show the reader something new and move story forward!
Look at the placement of your scene within the structure of your plot. Is it in the best location to heighten tension?
Keep in-mind, characters are not always forthcoming with every detail of information. Or with their true emotion, depending on the situation, of course.
Think about the tension of the scene and the theme of your book. How your characters share and use information is a big player in storyline conflict.
Where will you add subtext?
Leave a few reader questions open at the end of the scene to draw intrigue and tension.
Ask yourself what is left for the next time these characters speak.
Through every line of your dialogue, ask yourselves, “How can you show character, conflict, voice, action, backstory, and story without using that much exposition?”
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Thank you very much for joining me for the last Friday of the month here on WITS! I hope you took notes! Comment below and share which authors have wooed and wowed you with their dialogue. As per usual, if you comment, your name will be in the hat to win a free spot in one of Tiffany’s future online courses offered through Lawson Writer’s Academy.
If you are hankering for an in-depth workshop on dialogue (learning HOW TO implement everything on the above list and more more more) I’ll be teaching a month long workshop online for LWA in fall/winter. Follow me on twitter @NakedEditor to see what’s happening and when. New workshops taught month at Lawson Writer’s Academy check it out!
You can find Tiffany at her website , info-packed-blogs starting up in late summer.
Tiffany Lawson Inman (NakedEditor) claimed a higher education at Columbia College Chicago. Here, she learned to use body and mind together for action scenes, character emotion, and dramatic story development. She teaches for Lawson Writer’s Academy and presents hands-on-action workshops. As a freelance editor, she provides story analysis and editing services.
Please Welcome Mario Acevedo to WITS - he's a best selling novelist and instructor over at the Lawson Academy, so you know he knows what he's talking about! Here he is:
Mario here: I’ve been invited to share a little of what I know about writing tension and conflict.
Let’s first ask ourselves why we read fiction? For a vicarious kick, to get what we usually avoid in our lives: DRAMA.
When we say a story was good drama, that means we got a lot of entertaining tension and conflict.
Tension and conflict, what’s the difference?
Tension arises from apprehension and expectation. We’re given details to set our nerves on edge. For tension to work, there must be a set-up. If you want to scare your reader, there must be a build-up of emotion. Otherwise, when you unleash the fright, there is no context. It would be like randomly mentioning the punch line of a joke and expecting a laugh.
Conflictis the discordance between competing agendas. Notice I didn’t mention ideas. It’s not enough that your characters have different ideas, they must act on them, through an agenda, a plan of action.
TENSION
A great way to show tension is through descriptions using scene-based imagery. This means that you describe the scene in a way that presents the emotion you want to project.
For example: A woman wears red lipstick. In a comic narrative, you might say her lips were clown red. In another scene, the same woman wearing the same lipstick, the color could be described as blood red. Those simple adjectives can dramatically change our expectations of the scene. One is funny, the other, filled with malice.
Check out this great example of creating tension in The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler. Here his detective Phillip Marlowe enters the greenhouse of his millionaire client.
The air was thick, wet, steamy and larded with the cloying smell of tropical orchids in bloom. The glass walls and roof were heavily misted and big drops of moisture splashed on the plants. The light had an unreal greenish color, like light filtered through an aquarium tank. The plants filled the place, a forest of them, with nasty meaty leaves and stalks like the fingers of newly washed dead men. They smelled as overpowering as boiling alcohol under a blanket.
Pick out the descriptors: Thick. Wet. Steamy. Larded. Unreal greenish color. Nasty, meaty. Fingers of newly washed dead men.
I don’t know what boiling alcohol under a blanket smells like but I’m sure it’s not pleasant.
What sensation do we get? One of dread. A foreshadowing of danger. It’s a brilliant allegory to the moral cesspool that Marlowe is immersing himself into. We know this is not going to be a nice story with nice characters.
CONFLICT
As I had mentioned, conflict implies action. The characters need to have competing agendas. Notice I didn’t say opposing agendas. You could have two characters on the same side (police buddies, for example) and while they may be striving for the same goal, they both have different ideas and methods getting there.
Although I said characters, conflict can be between the internal desires of a character, or between the character and nature (or God or society).
Conflict manifests itself when the opposing characters reveal their agendas, often through dialog. Let’s look at this excerpt from Fatedby S.G. Browne.
In cases like this, it helps to get some good advice, and I know Honesty will always be candid and confidential. She’s kind of like a therapist for immortal entities.
Honesty lives on the Upper West Side in a three-thousand square-foot, two-bedroom flat on the top floor of a six story building with a view of Central Park. From the couch in her living room, I can see the North Meadow through the picture window.
“But if I talk to her,” I say, “won’t that encourage a relationship?”
“Is that a problem?” she says.
“Well, isn’t fraternizing with human women against the rules?” I ask.
“Whose rules?” says Honesty. “Your rules? Jerry’s rules? The rules of emotionally unavailable men?”
“Is that a multiple-choice question?” I ask.
Honesty lights up another cigarette, then takes a long drag, leans back in her chair, crosses her legs, and says, “Are you afraid of intimacy?”
The thing about Honesty is that she’s passive-aggressive.
What are the competing agendas? Fate wants permission to have a relationship with a mortal human. Honesty wants Fate to admit to his desires and act on them. We can tell that neither character cares very much for the other.
Here’s a simple exercise that uses internal conflict to establish tension. Write two complementary sentences, one as the set up and the other as the twist that establishes tension.
For example:
I am an honest man. But I need this money.
What is the conflict? The collision of two different agendas. One is to maintain your integrity, the other, for whatever the money may bring: food, medical treatment for a child, payoff extortion, etc., What is the source of tension? Our expectation that you are doing something against your principles and that will lead to trouble.
Remember, your readers want drama. Give it to them using tension and conflict.
Thanks for the opportunity. Remember: nothing gets written until you BICHOK--Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard.
Mario in his 'Writer of the Year' hat. Hope I never win that.
Mario Acevedo is the author of the bestselling Felix Gomez detective-vampire series and his most recent novel is Werewolf Smackdown. You may find Mario at his website, his blog (with Jeanne Stein,) and at Facebook.
