DIALOGUE PART 4
Or: Answering Without Answering
The
comments: "Dialogue bits were eye-gougingly boring." Or "TMI,
dude. TMI." Or "I couldn't put my finger on why the story felt too
formal."
What they
might mean: You could prune and amend your dialogue scenes more.
This
week, we're going to apply everything in the dialogue module to a sample to see
how the components work together.
Here's a
refresher of the past three weeks:
Also, a
refresher of what a Character 5x5 is and how to use it might be handy.
Let's put on
our serious pants and deconstruct a horribly generic sample:
While I put1
the rest of my clothes into the bag2, my dad appeared at my bedroom
door.
"I
was going to take your car to get detailed, Bernie3," he said
ominously4, "when I noticed you didn't have your proof of
insurance in the secret flap over the windshield."
"Oh
that can't be right, Dad,5" I said. "You gave it to me a
month ago and I put it in there."
"Well,
Bernie6, it wasn't there," he answered7. "You
and I both know8 that document protects you monetarily in case you
get into an accident."
"Ok,
Dad, I might have forgotten where exactly I put in inside the car," I
admitted9.
"Your
Uncle Marty forgot his proof of insurance during his family vacation last
December, Bernie," dad replied10. "He got pulled over and
the cop said he had to return to Nevada within 24 hours to show proof of
insurance or he'd get a fine, Bernie."
"Oh
yes, Dad, I remember that story,11" I said.
"And
as you know12, Bernie, your mom got pulled over on Latham and the
cop asked for her proof of insurance and she couldn't remember where it was
either. I had to stand in line for over an hour at the DMV."
"That
must have been incredibly irritating, Dad," I said sarcastically13.
"And
if you're ever in an accident and the cops come, Bernie, the person without
proof of insurance is automatically at fault," my dad said peevishly. "So
having it in the car is important at all times14, Bernie."
"I
agree,15" I agreed.
***
1. We can do better than this
weak verb.
3. Using a character's name in
dialogue. This one's iffy. If it's the first time we get the POV character's
name, I'd actually keep to dribble in the information.
4. I'd cut this
"ominously" unless I've already established that any time the
protag's dad interferes with the car, something bad happens.
5. The audience can infer that
the POV character, Bernie, is talking to his dad. Also, who the fuck talks like
this?
6. Ok, now the names in dialogue
are just going to be annoying. Start culling.
7. What the dad says is already
an answer. No need to be redundant and actually say in narrative that he
"answered."
8. Classic indication that an
infodump is about to happen. If all the characters speaking already know what's
about to be said, no need to bludgeon the reader over the head with it.
9. What Bernie says is already
admitting something, thus "admitted" is redundant. Also, he should
stop saying "Dad" because it's obvious who he's talking to.
10. The dad saying something back
is already a reply. "replied" is redundant.
11. Lordy, just shoot me now. This
POV character sounds like a puppet saying whatever needs to be said to get the
dialogue moving towards the point.
12. Another classic phrase
indicating an impending infodump.
13. Ok, I could make a case for
keeping "sarcastically" to show that the character means more than
what he's saying. But, I could instead tweak what he says so it sounds more true
to life without having to filterwhat he says with the word "sarcastically."
14. The whole scene basically says
this. Why spell it out?
15. Three things wrong with this
last line: A. who says "I agree?" this easily, especially to parents?
B. POV character says something agreeable, which means "I agreed" is
completely redundant. C. Any tension in that scene just escaped through these
words.
Let's
tweak the scene to make it palatable. This time, let's try to answer without explicitly
answering by staying true to what the characters would say, how they would say
it, what they would talk about, and just as importantly, what they can't personally talk about.
We'll
also cull the infodumps, repetitive adverbs, and names which are taking up
precious story real estate and bring in some lines more worthy of word count.
I was
shoving my favorite jeans into the trash bag I was using as a suitcase when my
dad knocked on the doorframe.
"Bernie,"
he said. "I wanted to get your car detailed but I couldn't find your proof
of insurance. I thought I told you to always keep it in that flap over the
windshield."
"It's
there," I said.
"No
it's not," he said.
"It's
in there somewhere."
"Your
Uncle Marty forgot his proof of insurance last December. He got pulled over and
the cop said he had to return to Nevada within 24 hours to show proof of insurance
or he'd get a fine."
"And
he had to drive five hundred miles in the snow, overnight," I said.
"Uphill both ways."
"Your
mom got pulled over on Latham and the cop asked for her proof of insurance and
she couldn't remember where it was. I had to stand in line for over an hour at
the DMV to show them the form."
"And
the Bruins lost that afternoon because you weren't yelling at the TV to make
sure they ran in the right direction," I said.
"Listen
to me!" he said. "If, God forbid, you're ever in an accident, you'll
need to show proof of insurance or you'll have to pay no matter who hit who.
Last I checked, you had five dollars in your account. Who do you think gets to
pay for it, on top of paying for your tuition at that goddamn hippie college?"
I clenched
my jaw, shamed into silence.
Dad
cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'll call Renato and have him fax over
another copy. Make sure you put it in, okay? I'm going to take your car to get
a tune-up and check the tires. After that I'll get'er detailed. So if you need to
go out for any last minute things, take your mom's car."
He looked
at me like he was waiting for me to thank him or something, then got all
red-faced and left.
"Love
you too, Dad," I muttered.
***
That
"shamed into silence" part might be overkill for some readers. I'd
let a few betas look at it and see what they say.
Hopefully
the tweaked version gives a better idea of the internal conflicts motivating the
dad to talk about proof of insurance in this particular scene, and how the POV
character takes what's being said versus how a reader might see the
interactions between them as a whole.
Next
week, we'll wrap up the Dialogue Module with a guest post by Indie Author,
Robert Bevan.
Happy Writing and Revising!
J (follow me on twitter! @joanwip)
Coming Up:
More Dialogue
Passive
Verbing
Robert Bevan
Nat Russo
If you'd like my take on a writerly subject, tweet me!