Episode 198 - A big way to make our dialogue riveting.

Welcome novel and short story writers to our series on writing fiction. This is your writing pal Jim Thayer. You are kind enough to listen to me talk about writing and I hope you'll be kind enough to want to read what I write. My new novel is available at Amazon. As I get older I find that things are funnier so I wanted to write a funny novel. It's a coming-of-age story and the title is Diary of the Failed Poet Clayton Collins Age 15. I take this kid Clayton and I put him through a bunch of hoops and hope he can stand it and maybe he'll fall in love too. I laughed as I wrote it and I hope you'll check out the novel and I hope you'll laugh when you read it. I want to make a good suggestion regarding our stories. It's not profound but it can be important for us. Our stories should have a lot of dialogue. Territors speaking with each other. I'm going to mention a particular dialogue technique in a minute but let me first suggest that if the story you are writing or planning to write doesn't have a significant amount of dialogue consider adding it and why is that? Dialogue is good and so why should we have a considerable amount of it? Readers like dialogue. It's often fast and snappy and it reveals much about the characters who are speaking. It's as if the reader is part of a scene listening to characters. He's dropping on them and that's entertaining. And for most of us writers dialogue is fun to write. It needs not be quite so constructed as our narrative because it sounds like people talking rather than the writer writing. And dialogue is useful for contrast and to control pacing and to reveal things about our character. It's a terrific tool for us writers. Some techniques for writing dialogue have been mentioned in earlier episodes but I want to focus on one today and that's how we can write dialogue that sounds realistic but isn't too realistic which is our goal. Realistic but not too realistic. It's a balance. A dialogue in fiction sounds like a real conversation but not too much like a real conversation. That's helpful isn't it? But there are some things we can do and some things we can avoid that will make our dialogue sharp and economical and interesting for readers. A mistake for us writers is to confuse our everyday conversations. Our talk with family and friends and co-workers with our writing of dialogue and our stories. New writers sometimes mimic real life conversations to make their dialogue sound authentic. It can be a mistake. John Lahuru, a novelist and a poet who for ten years was the director of the Stanford Writing Program said, "Young writers often confuse dialogue with conversation. Under the assumption that the closer you get to reality, the more convincing you sound." But dialogue is not conversation, dialogue is a construct, it is artificial, it is much more efficient and believable than real conversation. And novelist David Morrell says, "Unfortunately, a transcription of even the best oral storytelling proves that what sounds effective in casual across the table setting is wordy and ill-focused on the page." What do unskilled writers do to their dialogue to try to make it sound authentic but which works against the force of the dialogue? Here's one thing they do and it's this segment's focus. They add what are called discourse markers, which are the sounds um and uh and uh and some others. And in real life we usually unconsciously use these to hold our place in the conversation while thinking of what to say next. I hope I don't use them too often, but I think we all do. It's just how we talk. And these discourse markers are designed to keep others from interrupting. I went to a kennel today but uh I didn't adopt a dog. And in our daily conversation we often add a word or a phrase also designed to hold the floor while we think of what comes next. What's in phrases such as basically to tell you the truth in my opinion well I mean as a matter of fact I guess look you know actually the thing is and the worst the worst is the young person's word like. I mean like it appears indispensable for 14 year olds. Another discourse marker is repetition where something is said twice. I don't know about that. I really don't or we had a wonderful time just wonderful uh here's an aside it isn't a discourse marker but it's funny and it it's how some of us talk not you or me but some of us. Have you ever met a backward talker? Someone who starts to tell you something and then moves backwards in the account and in time not forward. I'll give an example. This anecdote by a backward talker starts out in a promising way. Let's say about adopting a dog. We like it when friends or relatives adopt a dog and want to hear about it don't we? What a nice story we were about to hear. But here is a backward talker and her story. I adopted a dog named Barney at the adoption center yesterday. Danny and I drove there from his preschool Danny he's five was waiting at the school door for me. He was so excited about the dog he'd had a peanut peanut butter sandwich for lunch and his shirt was smeared with peanut butter. He loves PBJs and won't eat anything else for lunch. I buy the peanut butter at Costco in four pack boxes. We go to Costco once a month. The speaker here prefaces each sentence with another preface. This has been backward talking. I've met a couple of backward talkers and it's wonderful to behold. But I digress. Here is a short dialogue segment and it's one of the most famous conversations in literature where two gentlemen visit Ebenezer Scrooge early in the story trying to get Scrooge to donate to charity for the London poor. It's from Charles Dickens is a Christmas Carol. I'm going to delete a couple of sentences of non-dialogue just for this example. Here's Charles Dickens and listen to this dialogue. At this test of season of the year Mr. Scrooge said the gentleman taking up a pen. It is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries. Hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir. Are there no prisons asked Scrooge? Plenty of prisons said the gentleman laying down the pen again. And the union work houses demanded Scrooge are they still in operation? They are. Still, return the gentleman, I wish I could say they were not. The treadmill and the poor law are in full vigor then said Scrooge. Both are very busy, sir. Oh, I was afraid from what you said at first that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course said Scrooge. I'm very glad to hear it. Want is keenly felt and abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for? Nothing, Scrooge replied. You wish to be anonymous? I wish to be left alone said Scrooge. Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make Mary myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people marry. Isn't that wonderful dialogue? It's just riveting. It's an argument. It's right to the point. Nothing is wasted. Let me show how a lesser writer might try to make this conversation sound more like real life conversation between people. I'm going to exaggerate here. I can't imagine a writer putting this many dialogue markers in a conversation, but I hope to make a point about good dialogue in fiction, not being a transcript. Here I go. Well, at this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge, is it Mr. Scrooge, said the gentleman taking up a pen? It is more than usually desirable, in my opinion, that we should make some slight provision, just a slight provision, for the poor and destitute who, you know, suffer greatly, I mean greatly, at this present time. Basically, many thousands are in want of common necessaries, actually, hundreds of thousands, truthfully, are in want of common comforts if you know what I mean. I wonder, are there no prisons asked Scrooge? Well, as you already know, plenty of prisons, I'm afraid to say, said the gentleman laying down the pet again. So, and let me think, the Union work houses, for example, demanded Scrooge, are they still in operation? To be sure, they are, in general terms, still, and this is really crucial, return the gentleman, I wish I could say they were not. You let me ask, the treadmill and the poor law are in full vigor, then, said Scrooge. Both are very busy, sir, if you know what I'm saying. Oh, I was afraid from what you said at first, okay? That something had occurred to stop them in their usual purpose, said Scrooge, I'm very glad to hear it. Let me put it another way, want is, like, keenly felt, and abundance rejoices, if you think about it. Now then, what shall I put you down for, may I ask? What I'm trying to say is, nothing Scrooge replied. Well, you wish to be anonymous if I understand you right. I wish to be left alone, said Scrooge, since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, and this is important, that is my answer. And by the way, you know I don't actually make Mary myself, if you know what I mean. And all that kind of thing at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people in point of fact, Mary, I guess that's my message. Well, ruining great literature as I have done here is fun. My point is that the writer here, me, is trying to mimic real conversation, trying to make the dialogue sound real. It makes it sound real, I suppose, but with all the dialogue markers, which are also called dialogue disfluencies. But it also is distracting, and it waters down the effect of the conversation. The heat of Dickens' magnificent arguments, so revealing about Scrooge, is dissipated with all my add-ons designed to make the conversation sound real. Strong dialogue is cleaner than real-life conversation. It's more pointed, it's usually shorter. And here's a key. The reader won't miss these dialogue markers, the earned, actually, and likened to tell the truth and all the others. They will miss them at all, and will rather focus on the point of the dialogue between our characters. Our dialogue will be much better without these dialogue markers. I hope you are finding these podcasts useful, maybe helping you to become a better writer. If you are, please consider subscribing to the podcasts via Patreon. Here's a Patreon link below in the description, and it'd be much appreciated, thank you. How did George Elliott work? George Elliott was the pen name for Mary Ann Evans, who published seven novels, including her most famous middle-march. Which is on most lists of the best novels in the English language. The novelist Martin Ames said middle-march was the greatest novel in the English language. Mary Ann Evans, aka George Elliott, was born in 1819. The Encyclopedia Britannicus says she was an English Victorian novelist who developed the method of psychological analysis, characteristic of modern fiction. That's the Encyclopedia. In daily life, she went by the name Mary Ann spelled M-A-R-I-A-N. She was, I say by way of understatement, smart. She spoke and read in six languages, English, German, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Italian. Another of her famous novels is The Mill and the Floss. Mason Curry in his book Daily Rituals Women at Work says that, and this is Mason Curry, writing never came easily to her. With each new novel, Elliott was convinced that her creative powers had deserted her, and she would never meet the standard set by her earlier work. While writing middle-march and referring to her earlier novel, Felix Holt, Mason Curry says, Elliott told her longtime companion, George Henry Luz, that she "could never write like that again, and that what is now in hand is rinsing of the cask." This was in 1872. Mason Curry in the book says that that summer to give her an opportunity to work without interruption, Luz and Elliott moved from London to the countryside and kept their address a secret from everyone but Elliott's dentist and one close friend. In the country, Elliott generally devoted the morning to writing and spent the afternoon walking with Luz and in this manner made steady if painful progress forward. It didn't help that Elliott was often in ill-health while writing, or perhaps writing, brought on these periods of illness. During the composition of middle-march, she suffered from severe tooth and gum aches. While working in on 1876's Daniel Doronda, her symptoms were closer to depression. And she said, "I had hardly a day of good health while it was in progress." Mason Curry adds that Elliott finished the novels despite her near-constant suffering is a testament, both to her own tenacity and the steady influence of Luz, who had first encouraged Elliott to write fiction and who went out of his way to provide her with favorable conditions for her work. She said, "We have so much happiness in our love and uninterrupted companionship that we must accept our miserable bodies as our share of mortal ill." George Elliott, Marianne Evans, passed away in 1880. This has been Mason Curry from his terrific book Daily Rituals Women at Work. He says that writing never came easy to George Elliott. For a lot of us writers, that's nice to know. Sometimes writing doesn't come easily for us, and we aren't alone in that. If you listen to my podcasts and still feel you need a boost, I've made something different. I've created a 20 episode Masterclass on fiction writing, a start to finish course covering plot, characters, scenes, and sentence-level craft. Each episode is focused in about 30 minutes. The full class, all 20 episodes, is available now for a one-time price of $49. If you want structured, concise guidance, click the "Buy the Masterclass" link in the show notes to get started. I received a message from our listener, Lewis. He said, "I noticed you are a fan of Jack Beckham, especially of his book Seen and Structure. I read this around 10 years ago and have it on my Kindle for reference." In the book, he talks of "Seen and Sequel." Is there a chance you may add something to one of your episodes about writing "Sequels?" That's from our listener, Lewis. I've mentioned before that if I could recommend only one text for new writers, it'd be Jack Beckham's "Seen and Structure." I'd like to talk here about his use of the term "Sequel." And to do so, I need to read his definition of a scene, which you've heard me say before, in which is the most important, several sentences I've ever come across regarding our scenes. This is Jack Beckham. A scene is a segment of story action written moment by moment without summary, presented onstage in this story now. It is not something that goes on inside a character's head. It is physical. It could be put on the theater stage and act it out. That's a definition of a scene from Jack Beckham. And then Jack Beckham talks about a sequel, about the difference between a scene and a sequel. And here he isn't meaning a second novel that follows the first novel's success with the same characters. He's talking about that part of a story that follows a scene. He says clearly in any long story there must be some structural component besides the scene. There are essentially two, transition and sequel. And Jack Beckham says about a transition. One is a very simple device which provides a direct statement to the reader to the effect that a change in time, place, or viewpoint has happened since the last scene. And he says something like three hours later, or it was the following Tuesday. These can serve as a bridge between scenes, Jack Beckham says. And then he goes on. But clearly if you want to deal in any depth with a character's emotional state, or show his thought processes as he analyzes his plight and makes future plans, or use his thinking process to give the reader information about things that happened before the story started, then you need something bigger and better than a simple transition. And he says that's something the sequel is the glue that holds scenes together and helps you get from one to the next. It is a flexible structural component. And it provides you with all the tools you need for in-depth characterization analysis of motivation, explanation of character planning, and so forth. Jack Beckham continues about the sequel. A sequel begins for our viewpoint character, the moment a scene ends, just struck by a new unanticipated but logical disaster he's plunged into a period of sheer emotion, followed sooner or later by a period of thought, which sooner or later results in the formation of a new goal-oriented decision, which in turn results in some action toward the new goal just selected. And Jack Beckham says, "Emotion, thought, decision, action, the four structural components of the sequel. Sequel's thus get a character from one disaster to the start of the next scene." And he adds, "Now, because it often delves deeply into the head and heart of a viewpoint character, sequel is not stageable, like the scene. Sequel is often wholly internal. In sequel, you can show a character alone and dig deep into his thoughts and feelings. In sequel, you seek feeling and understanding by the reader, sympathy." And he says, "Thus, while a scene is characterized by conflict, which is exciting and told moment by moment, a sequel is characterized by feeling and logic and can span the great chunks of time or space." This has been from Jack Beckham on the sequel, which he says follows a scene. In my plotting, I haven't thought in terms of scene than a sequel, than a scene, than a sequel in blocks of separate text, and I don't think Beckham is suggesting this. I usually do these things, emotion, thought, decision, somewhere in the next scene, in dialogue or some interior monologue, or in a sentence or two of summary put into the scene. I'm confident Beckham is not suggesting we write a sequel that has long interior monologue. Emotions can often be shown via actions, such as he bald his fist. And so can other thoughts, which we can set out quickly, such as he opened the door, then closed it, and turned back toward the room, which shows a change of mind. And we can show decisions, such as he vowed revenge or he would try again to impress her. Almost all of our stories should be presented on stage with action in the story now. A sequel following a scene is a useful concept to get the character and reader squared away for the next scene. But it needn't be a standalone part of a story, and it needn't be long. And we certainly want to avoid lengthy interior monologue. I sometimes call the things we talk about in these episodes "rules." And they are. But it's easy for us writers to say, "Rules are meant to be broken." Sure, sometimes by some of us, we should break the writing rules. But the poet T. S. Eliot has said something that I think is right. He said, "It's not wise to violate the rules until you know how to observe them." Christian Snyder, at National Review, wrote that a new independent band's music sounds like a bag of geese thrown down a laundry shoot. I laughed. A bag of geese thrown down a laundry shoot, I wish I'd written that. This is Jim Theron Seattle, wishing you a fun and productive writing week. I'll see you next time, please, keep tapping those keys. [Music]