n my Q&A a couple of months ago on Patreon, I wrote a little bit about how to improve dialogue. This is something that almost every story will include, and from my experiences in workshops throughout University, it seems to be something that people often struggle with. In fact, for some it really is a huge bugbear, and so it makes sense to devote a whole post to it, rather than a couple of summarised paragraphs.
I cannot say that dialogue has often been something I have given too much consideration to whilst I am creating it. It’s always been something that I’ve done very instinctually. I first began to think about dialogue and how to craft and deploy it with care and intention when I was studying scriptwriting in undergrad. Naturally, in scriptwriting, dialogue is hugely important. I’d had a few work in progress short film scripts workshopped, as well as some short fiction in another class, and in both people had commented on my dialogue, noting how natural it felt. These comments attuned my attention to the topic, and I began to notice how others had struggled, and listened to the advice from the tutors, comparing it with my own approach.
There were a few common issues that seemed to crop up for people. These both revolve around authenticity. One is trying too hard to sound a particular way. When people seek advice about this, it is often phrased as wanting a character’s dialogue to sound realistic to a particular feature of their design, and perhaps is better rephrased as seeking authentic dialogue. Another common issue is trying to write the way we speak in person. This is something that tutors will very quickly ward you off for reasons I shall elucidate upon below. Although these problems may seem slight, and there are only two that I have listed, they can get knotty, as the length of this blog will attest to. So let’s expand upon them.
Again and again, I have seen people ask questions trying to figure out how to sound more like x. Interestingly enough, this often seems to be more about a physical characteristic than anything to do with the background of a character. In University, a common one seemed to be how to write dialogue that is accurate for a child, and for the young men to feel unsure how to write “realistic” female dialogue. The latter was a concern that puzzled me. How is it that the dialogue of a woman is so different to that of a man’s that it could be identifiable when simply words on a page, without any surrounding context? Whilst this desire for verisimilitude is to be commended, in this instance it feels perhaps a step too far. Although some women may communicate differently to some men, the same can be said of any two random people picked off the street, regardless of their gender.
This is where I think this question is somewhat left of centre. Instead of asking how to write dialogue that is more realistic to a particular gender, the focus should be on the character in question. Stock Female Character A should speak differently to Stock Female Character B, not because they are different women, but because they are different people. There is no inherent gender to the methods of communication that we use, there are only the overtones and associations that we assign ourselves. Whilst it is useful to be aware of these, and how they work, being fettered by them when it serves no purpose other than their proliferation without attendant commentary could be considered an unnecessary restraint to impose on yourself. It therefore follows that a character which has been carefully constructed will sound different to any other within the textual cast, and any physical elements that might affect their dialogue (e.g. gender, age, origin, ability) will generally be a small part of that. Their dialogue should be reflective of who they are and the experiences and interests that have shaped them up to the point where the reader meets them. This is what will make it authentic.
The question of how to write dialogue that sounds realistic for a child is a more straightforward example of the difficulties experienced in the pursuit of accurate dialogue. Putting aside the fact that writing for children is notoriously difficult and requires as much skill as the novel for any adult (do not be fooled, children are highly perceptive), writing dialogue that feels natural for a young character is also a task that requires no small amount of ability. There is often an overwrought tendency to employ baby talk for the very young, frequently with w’s substituted e.g. “pwease” (something that makes me physically shudder).
The key to authentic children’s dialogue, I have found, is both the topics and how they are spoken about, as opposed to the phoneticisation of a speech impediment that many children do not speak with. Children have a different perspective to adults, or anyone else of a significantly different age. Different topics will interest them, they will often be extremely direct, and, depending on their age, they may or may not have particularly strong display rules (these are the social rules that govern what is polite or acceptable to say and do, e.g. commenting on “unattractive” or obvious physical features). It is important to draw on true examples of the speech for a particular age group, as opposed to common stereotypes when seeking authenticity.
Now to the second big problem. A desire to write “naturalistic” dialogue, as opposed to stylised dialogue is very frequently going to end in a sticky position. I have never yet met a tutor who has encouraged written dialogue that reflects how we speak in everyday life. In fact, almost every single one has straight up said that writing dialogue how we speak, or “naturalistically” is a recipe for boring dialogue that will confuse your reader.
The truth is that most of what we say is fluff. If you were to have a transcription of every conversation you had participated in for the day, you would very quickly start to speed read. Most of it is irrelevant. There are a lot of um’s and er’s and gesturing after an escaping idea which won’t necessarily do you any favours if you put them on the page if you sole goal is to write dialogue as we speak it. That is the key distinction. Dialogue is not everyday speech. It is stylised for maximum effect. The written word should be more concise than that which we speak ourselves. Doing that well is where the skill of dialogue writing lies.
So much for these problems. What, then, is the solution? The answer is multifaceted, and perhaps best broken down into a list.
- Earwig.
By this I do not mean the insect, I mean listen to the conversations going on around you. Listening to observe and learn is crucial research. Does it sound creepy? Mildly. However, it is the best way to understand natural speech patterns for different people, and to pick up a feel for the ebb and flow of conversations. Having this mental database of experiences and observations will improve the authenticity of your dialogue, and it will stand you in particularly good stead if you are trying to write dialogue for children. Observe how they communicate, with each other and with those older or younger than them. Similarly, if you are unsure how the dialogue of an executive might differ to that of a teacher, try to find opportunities to listen and learn those subtleties. Jargon will also play a role.
2. Communication is not all words.
You may be confused. After all, what is dialogue if it is not words? And that is what we’re talking about here. Neither dialogue nor speech exist in bubbles cut off from all other context. We communicate through a multitude of other methods – expressions, gestures, glances, tone and inflection, silence. Never forget body language.
In our day to day lives, verbal communication makes up about 20-25% of all our communication. That other 80-75%? Non-verbal communication. So when you’re listening to people, watch them too. Are they big on gestures? Do they move relatively little? Is it all about their hand gestures? Is it all about the flicker of an eyelid or the quirk of the corner of their mouth or the twitch of an eyebrow? Is their body language in general closed, or open? Are their arms or legs crossed? Are their sunglasses up or down? Do they fiddle with their keys or something in their hands? Are their hands in their pockets?
Remember, human communication can subtle and incredibly nuanced. And even though this is about dialogue, an absence of it is just as powerful as its presence. Sometimes no words have greater impact than the most eloquently worded speech. Is it better for your protagonist to refuse to speak to their love interest, but for their eyes to speak for them; or is it better for them to say one thing and mean another? Subtext is important to be aware of.
3. Your character is your touchstone.
If the dialogue isn’t flowing for a character, don’t force yourself. Take the time to stop and think why you’re encountering this problem. It could be that you don’t have as good a handle on the character as you thought, and need to go back and do some development and/or refamiliarization. It could be that the character has changed as you’ve written, and now needs to be reworked. This is perfectly natural, and I would recommend taking your time about it. If you force your dialogue it will sound more stilted and less authentic.
Instead, immerse yourself in the character. This can be much easier if you’ve written up a character profile of them (although this technique is not everyone’s cup of tea). Don’t think about how they would speak or what they would say. Think about who they are, what their personality is like, what they have experienced in the lead up to the scene you are working on, and how this would influence their feelings and outlook. Make sure you have a strong impression of this before you start writing.
4. Self-consciousness kills creativity.
This is true for my experience at any rate. For me, writing works best when I am not self-conscious. That is to say, when I am not simultaneously analysing and questioning what I’m doing and writing as I’m doing it. In my opinion, worrying about how we think a character should sound helps less than we might think. Instead of letting your brain focus on creation, you’re side-lining a lot of its ability on worry, and worry (in general) is a thoroughly unproductive pastime.
Self-consciousness can rear its head if you’ve just experienced some critique that’s turned itself into an earworm. My best advice is to trust yourself, and always remember that words on the page are not a commitment. You can always go back and change things, nothing has to be perfect on the first go. A frequent maxim of many writers is that you cannot edit a blank page. It is better to have an imperfect full draft than a perfect few pages.
Doubting yourself and your instincts can also become a problem if you are anticipating difficulties with dialogue, or else are focused on trying to figure out what your characters are going to say. My preferred technique is to know what I want the scene to achieve. This gives me a target to focus on and work my way towards, and writing the dialogue becomes an incidental by-product of me moving towards that goal. Having an end point in mind will also help give your dialogue purpose and forward momentum, which will help keep readers engaged.
Although dialogue can be tricky, it can also be extremely enjoyable. For those struggling, I would absolutely recommend trying some different writing exercises to flex a few different muscles. Quite apart from learning some different methods and pushing yourself as a creator, it can also teach you a few nifty tricks that you can employ outside of the exercises. And remember – you don’t have to like everything you try out in exercises. They are just practice runs, and you don’t have to commit to anything.
As someone who has traditionally been verbose, I have frequently found that exercises in concision are extremely rewarding. Learning to be precise with your dialogue can be a massive benefit. It will help teach you to use your words effectively, as well as drawing in the non-verbal elements. That said, if you feel like you are being too wordy as you write, just keep on going if it’s working for you. You can always edit for clarity afterwards.
Another exercise I have found interesting to try is writing dialogue without any surrounding description. The point of this is to see whether the speech stands alone, without any modifiers or context to indicate who is saying what. It would be unreasonable to expect that every line of dialogue you create will be instantly identifiable as the speech of a particular character. However, it can be useful to develop this skill as it will strengthen your dialogue abilities.
It’s also very important to remember that everyone has their own style. Some people will have large tracts of dialogue, others will employ it sparsely. This will also be informed by the type of writing you do – literary fiction has very different expectations to that of crime, for instance. If you are writing well (and I say that fully aware that everyone’s definition will vary somewhat) that is the key thing. If you are happy with your writing, and it’s achieving the purpose for which you created it, then that is the goal.
