Writing verbal conversations or dialogue is often one of the trickiest parts of creative writing. New writers often go into a story thinking it should be easy; after all, we all hold conversations several times a day!
What new story writers quickly realize is that crafting a relevant dialogue within the context of a story requires much more work than carrying out natural conversation.
Dialogue isn't just about creating direct quotations from different characters. Sometimes dialogue is best when it's put into a summarized form, rather than the drawn-out form of an actual conversation.
If you think about it, our conversations are boring to read, for the most part. A normal exchange would go something like this:
"Hi Tony," said Katy.
"Hey," Tony answered.
"What's wrong?" Katy asked.
"Nothing," Tony said.
"Really? You don't act like nothing's wrong."
"Hey," Tony answered.
"What's wrong?" Katy asked.
"Nothing," Tony said.
"Really? You don't act like nothing's wrong."
Pretty tiresome dialogue, right? But by condensing a conversation within the narrative, the writer can convey relevant information that isn't important enough to merit its own dialogue segment. You might think of dialogue as feelings that are verbalized in an abbreviated way.
Instead of writing a dialogue like the one above, a writer could condense the scene:
"Hi Tony."
Tony looked down at his shoe, dug in his toe, and pushed around a pile of dust. "Hey," he replied.
Katy could tell something was wrong.
Tony looked down at his shoe, dug in his toe, and pushed around a pile of dust. "Hey," he replied.
Katy could tell something was wrong.
There are several important things to remember when writing conversations like the examples above, which are called direct dialogue:
- Do not use dialogue simply to convey information. Dialogue should set the scene, advance action, give insight into characterization, remind the reader, and foreshadow. Dialogue should always be doing many things at once.
- Keep the character's voice in mind but keep it readable. Dialogue doesn't have to be grammatically correct; it should read like actual speech. However, there must be a balance between realistic speech and readability.
- Don't use too much slang or misspelling in order to create a character's voice. Also remember to use speech as a characterization tool. Word choice tells a reader a lot about a person: appearance, ethnicity, sexuality, background, and morality.
- Tension! Sometimes saying nothing, or the opposite of what we know a character feels, is the best way to create tension. If a character wants to say 'I love you!" but their actions or words say 'I don't care,' the reader cringes at the missed opportunity.
Using Thoughts in Dialogue
Using thoughts or memories of occurrences and conversations can also show important details of a story without unnecessary character interaction. Thisindirect dialogue is another way of creating the feel of exchange without quotations. This often takes place internally in one of the characters.
"Hi Tony."
Tony looked down at his shoe, dug in his toe, and pushed around a pile of dust. "Hey," he replied.
Katy braced herself. Something was wrong.
Tony looked down at his shoe, dug in his toe, and pushed around a pile of dust. "Hey," he replied.
Katy braced herself. Something was wrong.
It is important to keep in mind when writing thoughts not to use quotations. If you must write a direct thought, always italicize what is being "said" within the character's mind.
Formatting Short Story Dialogue
Format and style are key to successful dialogue. Correct tags, punctuation, and paragraphs can be almost as important as the actual quotations themselves.
The first thing to remember is that punctuation goes inside quotations.
- "I can't believe you just did that!"
Dialogue tags are the he said/she said's of quotations. Very often they are mistakenly used as forms of description. For example:
- "But I don't want to go to sleep yet," he whined.
While these types of tags are acceptable and even necessary at times, they should only be used sparingly. The dialogue and narration should be used to show the emotion or action stated in the tag. One of the most important rules of writing fiction is: show, don't tell.
Instead of telling the reader that the boy whined in the example above, a good writer will describe the scene in a way that conjures the image of a whining little boy:
- He stood in the doorway with his hands balled into little fists at his sides. His red, tear-rimmed eyes glared up at his mother. "But I don't want to go to sleep yet."
Paragraphs are very important to the flow and comprehension of the dialogue. Remember to start a new paragraph each time the speaker changes within the dialogue. This helps the reader know when someone new is speaking (and who it is).
If there is action involved with a speaking character, keep the description of the action within the same paragraph as the dialogue of the character engaged in it.
Creative writing is one of the few activities where hearing voices is not only a good thing, it is a necessity. If you find yourself having difficulty coming up with new voices for your characters, there are a few things you can do to help develop the voices in your head.
- Start a dialogue diary. Practice speech patterns and vocabulary that may be foreign to your normal habits. This will give you the opportunity to really get to know your characters.
- Eavesdrop. You should always carry a small notebook with you and write down phrases, words, or whole conversations verbatim to help develop your inner ear.
- Read! Reading will hone your creative abilities. It will help familiarize you with the form and flow of narration and dialogue until it becomes more natural in your writing.
As with anything, practice makes perfect. Not even the best writers get it right the first time. Start off writing in your dialogue diary and once you get to drafting, it will be a matter of molding your words into the feel and message that you intend.
Sample Short Love Story
It was very hard for Sam to keep from screaming at the unfairness of it all.
She had been working at the newspaper for years. She wasn't always the best writer, and she certainly could have been a bit more social with the rest of the office staff, but she was good at her job, and she had become invaluable to the editor. Derek had always valued her opinion for what it was, and he trusted her more than anyone else at the paper.
But that was before Christine.
Christine slammed into the newsroom like a Category 5 hurricane. She tore down everything Sam had worked so hard to build and left a trail of destruction in her wake. Within her first month, she'd managed to get four good reporters fired, and at least a few others were on the chopping block.
And Derek seemed to love her immediately.
It didn't matter to him that Sam had given the paper everything or that he used to trust her implicitly. When Christine winked, complimented him, and broke things off with her fiancé to “get to know him better,” all of that went out the window. It was like Caesar and Cleopatra all over again.
She demanded Sam's resignation two weeks later.
It was sheer luck that Christine wasn't in a position to influence hiring. No matter how much she complained about Sam's work, she couldn't get her way.
And then came the last straw: Derek promoted Christine to the job Sam had been promised, and that was it. A carefully crafted letter of resignation made its way to her direct supervisor's desk.
Truth be told, Sam still wasn’t sure whether it was the right decision. But she’d given her two weeks’ notice, and her desk would have to be cleared out by then. She had to focus on that.
When she walked back into the office that Wednesday night, there he was. She had hoped that today would be the day he’d decide he didn’t have to work until all hours and let her clear out her desk in peace. But Derek, who always seemed to have a sixth sense about her, picked his head up the second she made it across the room.
There wasn't much left: a calendar, a mug, a few notebooks, and a well-worn chemistry textbook lined the box she brought for her things. He at least had the decency to let her finish packing before calling her over.
This wasn't going to end well, and she knew it.
“Are you okay?” he asked once she was settled into the uncomfortable chair across from him. She nodded mutely, and he cleared his throat.
“Good. I, uh...you'll have to forgive the lack of professionalism here, but...”
She tilted her head. “But what?” she asked graciously, wondering briefly if he knew how thin a line he was treading. His eyes fixed on her, and it was like she was seeing the Derek of three months ago. She couldn’t breathe.
“Please don't go,” he blurted. She blinked, working hard to keep face blank. He leaned over the desk theatrically, and it was hard for Sam to keep from smiling. Whenever he pulled that move, she couldn’t help but think Derek looked a bit like Cary Grant.
“I don't know why you're leaving, but we need you here. You're the best writer at the paper. And I need your advice. Please stay.”
And there he was, giving her that look again—the one that always got him an extra slice of cake at company gatherings, could probably get him out of prison, and was very effective at melting a reporter’s heart. Sam felt her reasons for leaving start drifting away. He needed her. And she had always been there for him. How could she leave?
She felt the corners of her mouth turning up and forced them back down again. No way could she cave now; she was right in the middle of packing up her stuff! “What about Christine?”
Derek shook his head, sighing audibly. “Christine is…well, she’s something, all right.” He locked his eyes on hers, and Sam felt herself unable to look away. “But you have something that she just doesn’t.”
Sam furrowed her brow. “And what might that be?”
He ran a hand through his hair (his beautiful, perfect, full head of hair, Sam thought in spite of herself), seemingly struggling for words. She waited, biting her lip in anticipation.
Finally he spoke. “You’re kind. You’re funny. You’re incredibly talented but so modest that hardly anyone knows how amazing you are, even though they should. You keep to yourself, but you’re easy to talk to, and I know you’ll be honest with me no matter what I ask. Basically, you’re one of very few people I look forward to seeing every day, and I would genuinely hate to see you go.” By the end of his soliloquy, his face had gone red, and Sam noticed that he was twisting his tie around in his hands—almost as if she were making him nervous.
She smiled at the thought. And then she had an idea that was so crazy and out of character for her she couldn’t believe it could have come out of her own rational, analytical brain. But this is my last chance, really, she realized. If I don’t do this now, I’ll never be able to.
So she blurted it out before she had too much time to convince herself it was a horrible idea.
“If you’d hate it so much, prove it to me. Take me to dinner tonight. You can give me more compliments,” she laughed, “and reasons you want me to stay.”
He opened his mouth, his lips forming the word “no,” then caught her eye again and shut his mouth. Sam’s breath was stuck in her throat. She stared at him, refusing to blink, until at last she heard the words she hadn’t known she was waiting for.
“You know what? It’s a date.”
