FROM SPEECH TO DIALOGUE: ACTION TO INTERACTION

How a person speaks is a reflection of who that person is. But speech is not just a means of display, like a peacock's plumage. We don't just speak at each other to prove how articulate or forceful or clever we are. We speak to each other.

Dialogue is what we get when we engage in that singularly human exercise of speaking to each other. It's dialogue that allows us to have the most complex interactions and relationships— and the most agonizing misunderstandings. Language is, of course, meant to communicate, and no matter how often we misinterpret each other, we keep on trying to connect through words.

But language provides more than connections. It also powers action. Anyone who has tried to find an address in a foreign city knows how essential conversation is to getting something done. So let's go beyond individual voice and speak of voices: arguing, agreeing, jawing, joking— making conversation that matters.

You might rent some videos with snappy dialogue, like the screwball comedies of the 30s, or David Mamet's films. Listen for the reaction pauses in those lightning-quick exchanges, and see if you can use for rhythm and balance in your own witty repartee. You'll probably also notice the repetition that links one line to the next like a drumbeat:

"So I say, baby, let the good times roll!"

"Right. Let 'em roll. I know how that works. You let those good times roll right over you, and tomorrow I'll find you plastered on the sidewalk."

Consider some purposes of conversations in your book (the purposes to the conversants, not just to your story), e.g., persuasion, intimidation, comfort, seduction, alliance-building, information exchange, time-passing, boasting....

Just keep focused on the results of this dialogue; what this conversation can do to these characters. Here are some effects that can come right from conversation, without any further action.

• A conspiracy to do something.

• A breakup.

• An alliance.

• A change in vote or position.

• A discovery of the key to a puzzle.

• A deepening mystery.

• A misinterpretation.

• A revelation of a secret.

• A change in attitude.

• A change in behavior.

• A flirtation.

• A deception.

• A surrender.

EXERCISE

1)       Consider some purposes of conversations in your book (the purposes to the conversants, not just to your story), e.g., persuasion, intimidation, comfort, seduction, alliance-building, information exchange, time-passing, boasting....

Choose one purpose and craft a conversation in which the purpose is not fulfilled-- but which still advances the plot in some way.

2)      List ways your characters might interact in conversation, e.g., fight, deceive-doubt, interrogate-resist, sweettalk-resist, sweettalk­-succumb, comfort-accept, mutual flattery. Choose one and craft a conversation that shows the relationship changing in some way because of the interaction.

For example, John is trying to confide in his mother. He confesses his big secret-- that he got a tattoo on his buttocks a few months ago, and he thinks something went wrong.

"Mom, do you know anything about, well, hepatitis?"

"Hepatitis? I know it's a disease drug ad-- I mean, I know it's a disease. Why? Are you, umm, maybe doing a report for school?"

"No."

"What is it, sweetie? Come on, tell me. You know you can tell me anything. I might get mad, but you know it never lasts. I'm your mother. I love you no matter what, remember? And if you need help, well, I'll get it for you."

"I know. I know. Okay, I'll tell you. Just promise not to get mad, okay? I mean, you can get mad if you have to, but don't get too mad. I-- I don't know what to do!"

Mom can sense, probably from her son's tone of voice, that this is serious. So she stops herself from saying something inflammatory about drug addicts, and reminds him instead of her unwavering love. This keeps him from pulling away defensively, and makes him realize that he can trust her to help him out of the trouble his secrecy has gotten him into. Their relationship will be strengthened by this, because they are both being reminded of what that essential parent-child bond means.

3) Revise to make the change in relationship more clear. Dialogue, just like narrative, can cause things to happen in the story-- and SHOULD. :) A conversation, an overheard whisper, a ringing declaration, can make the plot go into a new direction. Striving for this can just about instantly vitalize your dialogue by making it more than just clever conversation. It will be... ACTION.

You can probably come up with other ways dialogue can cause change. But the important thing is--make the dialogue you have serve that purpose.

Look at the passages, especially the long ones, and see how they can affect the plot either now or later. (That lie she tells in chapter 2 sure better come back to haunt her in chapter 10 or so!)

 One other thought-- make the characters work at it. The key to effective dialogue, I think, is that the speakers have to spark a bit off each other to get to the change-point. Otherwise you could just summarize it in narrative: -- She told him about the paper hidden in the Bible.--  But if you're going to have dialogue, make the tension in it lead to the change, propel them towards change. "Give me that back! You can't just rifle through my Bible that way!"

TYPES OF DIALOGUE ACTION AND INTERACTION

Remember John Barnes's definition? He's a theater historian, so he's used to plays, where dialogue is all-important. ACTION is any irreversible event that changes the course of events course of events of the story.

Key words: IRREVERSIBLE — CHANGES

So Jack speaks his confession into a recorder, then instead of hitting playback, he rewinds and records over it: No go. That's not action because it's reversible.

But if Sally is hiding under the bed. and hears him dictating, he can rewind all he likes, but she still knows the truth, and will now be able to act on it. That's irreversible dialogue. Anything spoken aloud and heard by someone else is irreversible. But that does mean anything he says just to himself doesn't count. Introspection is well and good, but he can always take it back. His thoughts have to be heard to be irreversible. He can speak them aloud, or act on them… only then does a thought become irreversible.

 Harder still is making sure that dialogue has an effect, that it changes something not just in the plot, but in the relationship. How can you accomplish that? First, start by deciding that you're not going to have long stretches of dialogue that just displays how funny this guy is, or shows how well they get along, or passes on to the reader some necessary information. All that is fine, but think how the conversation will crackle when the reader realizes that this moment of conversation is going to change something.

  What sort of change can a conversation bring?

Especially in a comedy, making information exchange a conversation of
conflict can provide a bit of humor. Here's an example from a historical novel: 

"Jane, do let me put my bonnet up. I have been out all day looking for
your bir–" Lucy stopped and clapped her hand over her wayward mouth.

 "My bir– my birthday gift? Oh, Aunt Lucy! What? What did you get me?"

 "Your birthday isn't for three days."

 "Oh, tell me now! Tell me!" Jane put her little hands to her heart. "I
promise to be good!"

How long does Lucy hold out before she tells what the gift is? Now there's bound to be an information exchange, but it isn't just a quick spill– there's conflict, and character revelation, and lots of whining before she imparts the important fact.

 What's important is that the story changes somehow because one character has passed on some information to the other. So make something happen as a result of this exchange. The niece insists on going to the stable to see the birthday horse, and there she meets the young Mr. Ferguson, nephew of the best friend of Lucy's late husband. Eventually this "seed" conversation can lead to a change in their relationship, where the younger lady becomes more adventurous than her aunt.

Using that same story progression, here are some common events that happen because of the action and interaction in dialogue.

DISCOVERY

Discovery is another form of information exchange, but instead of just passing on what one already knows, it results in a revelation of something neither speaker knew. Talking together helps them put together pieces of a puzzle.  

"The stablemaster writes to say Jane didn't attend her riding lesson today," Lucy said, staring at the note as trepidation filled her.

 Captain Ferguson frowned. "You know, that must have been your Jane I saw in my nephew's curricle! I thought it looked like her, but I assumed you had her well-chaperoned."

"They are courting!"

Discovery requires that both contribute some essential fact, and the sum is a new piece of information. The conversation is active because, without this particular sharing of facts, the truth would never come out. This use of dialogue is especially good when you want both to participate in the discovery of some event or clue. It gives them a way to cooperate, to produce something together, and in a romance can subtly show how well
they're suited.

ALLIANCE

A conversation can also result in an alliance of interests. It's most fun if the conversation leads them to realize they need to work together, especially if that's a frightening prospect.

 "I don't care what you say, Captain Ferguson." Lucy looked implacably at him. "My sister sent Jane to me so that her daughter can marry well. And I regret to say that a penniless young lieutenant isn't going to suit."

 "You think I want my nephew shackling himself to some twittery little snob?"

 "My niece is not–" Lucy stopped and listened to the echo of his words.  Then, slowly, she said, "You don't want this marriage either?"

It's best that they start out somewhat at odds, so the conversation brings them to alliance. Thus, in the course of the dialogue scene, they move from adversaries to reluctant allies.

CONSPIRACY

Sometimes when two people realize they have a common interest, they end up conspiring together. This involves agreeing tacitly or openly to work together more or less in secret. So the concerned aunt and uncle above might agree to work to stop the wedding. They're creating a shared goal and a plan to achieve it. Take the conversation further if you can. A plan requires action, so as they're arguing and negotiating the steps involved in stopping the wedding, you'll be showing them learning to work together– and where they're in conflict.  

"I remember when I was nineteen," Captain Ferguson observed, as if it was a century ago and not just a decade. "I would never have let a relative tell me whom I could court."

 Lucy sighed. "Jane is just that way. She thrives on opposition. A very dear girl, but..." She glanced over and could see that Captain Ferguson was struggling manfully not to say that this must be a family trait. She said, "They are counting on us to object, aren't they? So why don't we ... surprise them?"

 "You mean, pretend that we are in favor of the match?" Captain Ferguson frowned in thought. "Well, I can't think of anything more likely to make Joseph think twice, than me telling him that Jane is a perfect wife."

 Lucy said decisively, "Let's then. Let's take every opportunity to throw them together."

 "Do you attend the Haversham musicale tomorrow night? We can insist they sit together. With both of us nearby, of course, so as not to excite
their suspicions."

  

Conspiracies lead to joint action. Use this conversation to set up regular meetings between them, for example, where they have to act together to further their shared goal. Secrecy only adds to the fun of their meetings.

COMBAT

Maybe your characters are getting along way too well, especially if they're conspiring. Well, bring on a conversation that leads to greater conflict. But don't make it trivial. Oh, the surface-level topic might be trivial, but see if you can make their
responses reflect some internal conflicts. 

Lucy declared, "Everyone in my family gets married at St. George's."

 "Since we plan that they won't actually get wedded, what difference does it make? It will be easier to set the wedding outside London– easier to cancel it, that is, with the least fanfare."

 "Jane will think I disapprove if I set the ceremony anywhere but St. George's."

 He regarded her with narrowed eyes. "Your wedding was in St. George's, I seem to recall." He added, "It rained. All day."

 "This is England, Captain Ferguson," she said coldly. "It frequently rains here, and not just outside of St. George's. If you hadn't left in the middle of the ceremony, you would have seen that we made a game of it, leaving the church under our umbrellas."

 "A game. Yes. I've observed that you considered marriage itself a game, Mrs. Endicott."

 She gasped, but he was going on as if he cared not that he had just impugned her virtue. "No St. George's. I will not hear of it. I will not have my nephew even consider marrying in the place where you married my poor dead fool of a best friend!"

Again, aim for some change in their relationship. They start out thinking they can clear this little problem up, but find that actually, the more they talk, the more at odds they are– and it will be especially interesting if it reveals why they are really in conflict.

TREATY

Conflict is the fuel that powers the plot, but you can't have them always fighting, or the reader will start to suspect these two have no reason to ally. If they have been at odds, then a conversation can lead to some kind of truce, reluctant or not. Again, there must be change from the state in the beginning of the conversation to another state at
the end.

 "Gretna Green?" Lucy whispered. "They've eloped?"

 "Damnation. They've got a two-hour head start on me."

 Lucy grabbed up her bonnet. "I'm going too."

 "Nonsense," he said. He couldn't imagine even a few hours alone with Lucy. They would do nothing but argue, and every angry word would put new scars in his heart.

 "Let me go along," she said. "It might spare Jane's reputation if I'm there to bring her home."

 He stood irresolute, his hand on the door. Finally he muttered, "We will do them no good if we show up fighting like Napoleon's artillery against Wellington's cavalry."

 She smiled suddenly, sadly. "I promise to be civil to you. If you promise to be civil back."

 "Oh, all right."

 "Let's take your phaeton. It will be faster."

 A treaty should lead to some shared decision– taking his phaeton, for example– to show that their cooperation is not just talk.

DECEPTION

Remember that the act of lying is, in itself, irreversible. That is, once it's done, it's very hard to take back, and the resulting mess of admitting to the lie or being caught in it can be extreme. So if one character is deceiving the other, see if you can make him lie directly in conversation.

 Speaking it aloud makes him commit more to the deception because he cannot take it back now. But make sure the deception has an effect on the plot. For example, she relies on what he has told her to make a decision or take an action, or, alternatively, she recognizes it as a lie, and his deception destroys her trust in him. Or she challenges him and forces him to tell her the truth. 

"You never told me about when John died." She looked grimly at the road ahead. "I should know. I am his widow."

 Captain Ferguson's fists closed more tightly on the reins. "You saw the commendation. He died a hero."

 "Yes. That's what the commendation said. That he died saving someone. But you were there. Whom did he save?"

 He recalled John protecting his Portuguese mistress with his body as the grenade exploded nearby. "He saved me."

 "That is very gallant, Captain. Untrue, but gallant." Lucy turned her merciless gaze on him. "Tell me why you are lying."

 Just keep in mind that a lie will almost always be revealed as a lie, sooner or later. As President Nixon said (and boy, did he know!), it's not the crime but the cover-up that gets you in trouble. The very fact that one character lied to the other, even with the best of motives, should create conflict – within the liar while it's still secret, and within the relationship when it's revealed. The revelation of the lie will manifest issues with trust and honor that might have been buried for years. So if there's a lie, have it revealed early enough that there is time for them to work through its consequences.

THE TRUTH

You can't take back telling the truth either. So a conversation where a long-hidden truth is revealed will lead to real change. Just remember to set this up earlier, whether it involves alluding to a secret or posing a question, such as why Captain Ferguson stalked out of his best friend's wedding. 

They gazed at the sign welcoming them to Gretna Green, Scotland's most famous site. "So Jane and Charlie now hate each other and refuse to speak, much less marry."

 Lucy sighed. "I almost started believing in love at first sight again, imagining them wed. But–"

 "But now, you are made a cynic all over again." He smiled down at her. "And we still have that damnable church reserved." Suddenly he took her in his arms. "What do you say, Mrs. Endicott? Shall we make use of the reservation ourselves?"

 Lucy opened her mouth, then closed it again. Finally she pressed her cheek against his chest and whispered, "A wedding? You? And I?"

 "I haven't been, I suppose, entirely honest with you."

 "I know about John's mistress," she said.

 "I don't mean that. I mean– oh, hang it all, Lucy. I love you. I've loved you all along. I walked out of St. George's that day because I couldn't bear to see you marrying anyone else, especially my best friend."

 "Oh." She took a deep breath as she felt his heartbeat beneath her cheek. "You know, I don't truly like St. George's Church."

 "You don't?"

 "It always rains there."

 "Yes, I've noticed that."

 "Look." Lucy pulled away long enough to gesture at the sky. "The sun is shining now. And I hear they know how to give weddings here in Gretna –"

The truth can't be taken back. It's possible for the listener to misinterpret, but even then, the conversation should always have some effect, should change the characters and their actions. The moment one or both speaks openly about a secret (love, or the trauma in the past, or the conflict between them)– well, that's the truth the reader's been waiting for. Take your time with this conversation. Think of the revelation as the irrevocable and dangerous telling of a secret truth, with potentially dire consequences. And leave a little time to show the actually wonderful consequences awaiting the character brave enough to tell the truth.

 Dialogue takes up a lot of space in a book, and is particularly appealing to readers, as it reveals character in so many ways. So don't waste the space. Look at dialogue passages, especially the long ones, and see how they can affect the plot either now or later. (That lie she tells in chapter 2 sure better come back to haunt her in chapter 10 or so!)

 One final thought-- make the characters work at it. The key to effective dialogue is that the speakers have to spark a bit off each other to get to the change-point. Without conflict in the conversation, you might just as well summarize it in narrative: She told him about the paper hidden in the Bible.

 If you're going to have dialogue between two characters, make the tension in it lead to the change, or propel them towards change.

RELATIONSHIPS IN PROCESS

The people we talk to the most are the ones we have the most trouble understanding, right? That's because we tend to hear all sorts of echoes from the past. We also have more than one purpose in talking to a loved one— we might want information and reassurance. We might even want to fight a little.

These are some ways people interact in conversation:

fight-flight                  fight-fight

deceive-doubt              deceive-believe

interrogate-resist         interrogate-answer

sweettalk-resist           sweettalk-succumb

comfort-accept            comfort-reject

mutual flattery                                    mutual insult

A married couple, for example, has had this conversation a dozen times before. They even finish each other's sentences.

"Colbert's on."

"Want to stay up and watch it?"

"Yeah, sure. Just flip off the light--"

"So you can rest your eyes. I know, I know. I just want to hear the Top Ten list."

Try to establish the familiarity then throw some wrench into it--change it so it's no Ionger a rote conversation but actually becomes an interaction fraught with potential action:

"So who's Colbert interviewing tonight?"

"Let's see what it says in the TV Guide. Hmm. That new action star, Tim Gordon--"

"Tim Gordon? You know, I went on a blind date with him once. My brush with fame, I guess. He wanted to go out again, but I turned him down because you and I had gotten back together."

"You never told me that."

"It didn't matter, did it, when he was a nobody. I never knew he'd end up being a star."

"So what you're saying is-- you wish you'd gone with him that night instead of me?"

Now it's not so familiar, is it? You can have one overreact because of something out of their shared past-- that will hint at an unresolved conflict.

Take pains to avoid the clichéd exchange of insults. That gets old fast, and seldom results in either the true deepening or the true resolving of conflicts. Instead, make this conversation cause some change in the relationship.

For example, one speaker can finally break an old pattern by responding to an old provocation in a new way-- asking a question, or walking out, or sympathizing. Think CHANGE.

EXERCISE!

Choose a scene from your story that involves two people in some conflict with each other.

1)      Think of this relationship at this point in the story. How will their conversation reflect their current feelings about each other, and their reasons for being together?

2)      Is this encounter cooperative or confrontational? Are they working together or against each other? How can you show their reluctant alliance, or their hostility, or their friendly competition in their dialogue?

3)      Are both equally open and forthcoming, or is one keeping secrets? If there's a secret being kept, can you indicate that in the dialogue? No, don't let the other character in on it, but can you have the secretive one start to say something, then abruptly change the subject, indicating to the reader that there's something hidden there?

4)      What emotion or attitude is each character trying to convey? Trying to hide? Is that coming out in their speech?

5)      How well do they know each other? How does this affect their verbal interaction? If they know each other well, what can you do to make this an unique conversation? If they don't know each other, do you show in their dialogue openness or distrust or wariness or excitement or something that means this encounter has great meaning?

6)      Do you show the relationship changing at least a little because of this encounter? At the end, for example, does she feel trusting enough now to confide in him? Or maybe he's figured out she must be the thief because she's spoken so familiarly of the layout of the museum? Does the way they talk shift because of this change in the relationship?

Another Paragraphing Point, Sort Of

A friend emailed me with a question related to the following three sentences, and she has graciously agreed to let me post it here. Here are the three sentences:

“So do you see why I need your help?” he asked.
“You need my help?” she asked.
Although her features remained subdued in the way of most mourners, a small note of eagerness had entered her tone.

The question was whether the third sentence should be a stand-along paragraph. (Dialogue tags were added to clarify the he/she speakers, but we can assume they would not survive editing. We're in "his" pov.)

Right away, I noticed two things about that final sentence.


First, the Progression of Ideas

The second and third sentences progress like this:
"dialogue"
Facial expression
tone of voice

The tone is separated from the dialogue by a lot of words. These two pieces, tone and dialogue, do fit together. So it might be work to put both sentences into the same paragraph, but the intervening words were a little disruptive of the link between those pieces. Speech, facial expression, tone of voice.

This, in fact, is probably what led my friend to think of this as a paragraphing issue. Does she attach "his" impressions to "her" dialogue because of the tone of voice reference? Or should those impressions be set off on their own? She was approaching the matter as a pov question, which at first blush makes sense. We wouldn't normally attach a dialogue beat of internal monologue from the pov character to the dialogue of the non-pov character.

So my first thought was to reverse the order of that second sentence, something like:

A small note of eagerness had entered her tone although her features remained subdued in the way of most mourners.

But before I even went so far as to think through whether that sentence was any better, a bigger second problem showed me a different solution.


Second, the Abstraction

her features remained subdued in the way of most mourners

What is this? You might be tempted to call it description, but what does it describe? I bet if we ask ten people what subdued mourning features physically DO, we would get a range of answers. Is the mouth downturned or held tight? Are the eyelids held open or dropping down? What is happening on the forehead and in the jaw? Is the angle of the head affected?

We don't know, and the reason we don't know is that this isn't clear description. It's his conclusion, his interpretation of the meaning of her expression. He sees something on her face, and interprets it as subdued mourning. We don't know what he sees, though. We only get the conclusion.

So is it interior monologue? No, these are not his direct thoughts, his brain's chat reel. It's a summary statement of his conclusion but it's not presented in interior monologue.

This is "telling," in other words, a very small-scale intrusion of narrative summary -- very small, so small that I nearly missed it. And I am a dragon about this sort of break in the narrative, so that's saying something.


My Advice

So here is what I wrote to my friend:

I suspect what's throwing you off is the leading adverbial clause.

IOW, the pov in that clause is diluted because it's summarizing his conclusion rather than reporting what he witnesses. What do subdued features look like? Is she droopy and mournful or stoic and grim? How can we tell the difference when we look at someone's face? What actions or physical conditions key the emotion?

So for example --
Although her lips tightened with the mourner's effort at self-control, ...

Or,
Although her eyelids drooped with the customary mourner's sorrow, ...

Or whatever.

But the point is that you would be shifting the verb toward a physical action (tightened, drooped) and away from the abstract summation (remained).

Once you do that, I think you'll realize that the paragraphing choice here has more to do with emphasis than with logic flow. (Because you'll be tightening the logic at the small scale.) So then you can decide whether you want to link the dialogue to the actions as a supplement to the dialogue, or offset the actions for more emphasis on the actions.


My recommended fix accomplishes two things. There's no longer the impression that a character's thoughts are being attached as a beat to another character's speech. And the clause is now firmly in the realm of action, something that makes a much better beat.

Because it's set up like a beat now, she can attach it to the dialogue or not, as she chooses, to create the emphasis she wants.

Yes, I left the main clause alone. And yes, there were things I wanted to tinker with there, too. Two things. Anyone care to guess what those two things might have been?

Theresa

More paragraphing thoughts-- Suz

Suz commented
What about when there is one beat of action, then the dialogue. Does the dialogue come on the same line, or is it a new paragraph?


Suz, I think-- what will the reader think? If the reader is going to think that the action and the speech are from different people because of the paragraph break, I think it's important then to put in a quote tag so the reader doesn't even have two seconds of wondering who the heck is saying this.

But personally, I would rewrite it so that someone else has the first line of dialogue at the end of the beat. Many reasons beyond just "so that you don't have Action by Bill and Speech by Bill in adjacent but separate paragraphs which Alicia doesn't like." :)

Another reason is replicating the rhythm of real conversation. If there's a lag, if there's a silence, usually the other person says something, even just "Uh..." to fill the space. Now maybe you're thinking, "But the action is taking just a split second," but it's a paragraph for the reader. It's not going to feel like a split second. So having the other character leap in with some kind of interruption will "feel" right.

And letting the other speak is a way to make this passage more interactive, more of a real conversation, not just "speaker and audience" but two characters interacting, each with his/her own agenda. What the other says, how he/she says it, will reveal something. If she's impatient, drawing his attention back to the subject-- "You were saying?"-- then we know that she wants to know more, that she might even think that he's avoiding the subject. If she says something helpful, like "I can understand how you feel," then we know more about their relationship.

Dialogue is a conversation, and I like it to look, feel, and sound like there are two people here, each with a reason to be conversing, maybe each with a goal, and certainly each with an attitude-- impatient, helpful, deceptive, something.

So if you want a character to insert some action, think about why. Action is a bit of a punctuator to speech. Why would he want to hesitate? What is he about to say or not say that makes him pause if only for an instant? And how is she going to interpret that?

I know some writers will say, "I just want to break up the dialogue with some action, or to anchor the scene in some setting detail." Well, sure, but that's not (if you do it well) what the reader gets. What the reader gets-- if you've made her believe in these characters-- is that the guy was conversing and stopped for a bit, and the reader is going to interpret this as having meaning in some way. Go with that. That's great. Let it happen. Make it happen. That doesn't mean you need a good reason for him to pause! But if you do it right, if you make the pause for action a part of the conversation, if you make the other character react, the reader will come up with a good reason. :) And that's what you want, the reader to get in there and care enough to speculate.

Alicia

When Unnamed Characters Speak

Jenny asks,

Sorry to interrupt a very interesting thread--I swear I read a post here once about handling dialogue when we don't know the names of the speakers. As in someone listening in on a conversation, say, between two women and a man. Like the first time one speaks you could say, "the man with the ill-fitting suit" but when that person speaks again, how would you identify him in a non-cumbersome way? That kind of a thing.

But I can't find the post. If it rings a bell would you mind directing me?

Jenny, I couldn't find such a post. Maybe we did write it and our Super Deluxe Sidebar Labeling System (tm) has failed again. Someday, I swear, I am going to sort out our labels. (Stop laughing.)

So, let's start by setting some parameters. You're writing a secondary character important enough to speak but not important enough to identify by name. (Or perhaps there is some other reason for hiding the name.) That secondary character doesn't fall into a neat character type, so you can't just write, the waiter said, after his lines.

Here's a handy two-step process for making this easy.

Step One.
Pick an active identifier that gives you room to play.

You offer an ill-fitting suit. This is a good choice, much better than a static cue or a common trait. Here's why--

Step Two.
Use beats to draw the reader's attention back to that active identifier.

Let's use your example of the man in the ill-fitting suit. The first time he speaks, you can identify him as just that, the man in the ill-fitting suit.

Now let's brainstorm some actions taken by a man who wears that ill-fitting suit. Does he tug the cuffs? Play with the tight buttons? Hike his pants up repeatedly? Shrug his shoulders when things feel tight?

Use these things as beats in that character's dialogue. It will cue "ill-fitting suit" without being repetitive.

---

"I never saw that woman before she turned up in the diner." The man tugged his frayed cuffs down. "She sat by herself and didn't talk to anyone."

Detective Jones made a note on his pad. "So why did you remember her? You identified her body in the alley."

He popped open a too-tight button. "Kinda hard not to notice a soaking wet, barefoot woman who comes into a diner and orders pie. And pays all in dimes. You remember a thing like that."

----

You see? If you had tagged the nameless character with something more ordinary or static -- "the tall blond," for example -- you wouldn't have all these options for beats. Well, maybe you could have him run his hands through his blond curls. That's a common move, so common the reader might yawn through it. Plus, there might be many blond men in your book. So this might not be unique enough to help the reader keep things straight.

Maybe you could have him bend to get through the doorway, but how many doorways will he walk through in the course of the conversation? You need an identifier that gives you options, that's vivid, and that is unique enough to relate back to only one character.

Theresa

More sentences

Now all I'm doing here is presenting sentence sequences and constructions that I think might send the reader off in the wrong direction or make her squint and backtrack, or break your POV logic. This is just to keep conscious in revision of what the reader is going to get, and make sure it's what you want.

Here's one of those dialogue passages that doesn't use "he said," and the lack of that tends to draw readers in more to the dialogue. However, the reader still does need to be sure of who is saying what.

Example, and I am making the characters "he" and "she" so there's no pronoun confusion:

They stopped outside of a massive block of storage containers, and both of them got out of the truck. Oliver glanced over at the office, where a young guard sat bored behind the alarmed windows. It would do.

"I owe you one." Mary handed him the envelope. He stuffed it in his pocket. "I'll use the combination from high school-- you remember that."

"Kurt Cobain's deathday. Yeah. I remember."

"I owe you one" is spoken by Oliver, but as it's immediately followed by "Mary handed him" it sort of sounds like Mary said it. So how about "Oliver took the envelope"? That way his name is the one closest to the dialogue sentence and, also, it's clearly in his POV (you can say "he" if you don't like using the POV character's name)-- he's the one whose actions (taking rather than giving) matter, as we're in his perspective.

Not a big deal. But stay conscious of the reader's experience of your sentences, and know that you can cause the right experience by how you craft the sentences. The last thing you want is to halt your careful pacing by making the reader go back and re-read.

Alicia

Finish your action

Going to try to keep this short for once--

Came across this in a couple submissions. You know how you sometimes use action instead of "he said"? You know:

Tammy rose. "You're a fool, Tommy. Bear Stearns is NOT a great investment!"

That's a good way to help the reader keep track of who's saying what, without repeating "she said" ad nauseum (or that immortal pre-war quote tag-- "Wow!" he ejaculated), and it injects some movement into what might be a static scene.

However, the action isn't JUST a quote tag. The astute reader is subconsciously keeping track, and if you have Tammy rising, and then standing up, and then pulling herself to her feet, well, the reader's going to wonder if the chair is following her around and repeatedly implanting itself on her bottom.

So block your action. Yeah, just like they do in the theatre. Make sure if there's an opening action, there's a closing one too. If she rises, she either sits down again or starts moving. If he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, he should either answer it, make a call, or pocket it again.

In fact, it wouldn't hurt-- well, yeah, it'll probably hurt :)-- to actually write these "internal actions" down separately and make sure they make sense.

Says Alicia, who once had a cowboy hero remove his hat three times without putting it back on. Well, maybe he was a hydra-headed cowboy!!

Dialogue Tags

In one of the recent comment threads, we talked a little about dialogue tags, an entirely post-worthy topic. Dialogue tags are one of those areas where a writer either gets it (in which case tag errors will be very rare) or doesn't get it (in which case tag errors will abound). It's not a particularly complex subject, but it is important. Incorrect dialogue tags can kill the flow of your narrative.

So, let's start with a definition. A dialogue tag is a clause of two words or more which attributes speech to a particular speaker.

"Hello," John said.

Hello is the dialogue. John said is the dialogue tag. The tag makes clear that John is doing the speaking, rather than Mary or Chris or the dining room table. (Forgive me that last one -- I'm currently reading Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, a book in which it would be perfectly normal to have a table deliver dialogue. n.b. Alicia -- you were so freaking right about this book. I should have read it the second you recommended it.)

According to our definition, then, there are two aspects to a dialogue tag.

1. A speaker
2. Speaks

A speaker

We usually think of a tag as a way to identify who is speaking. But there are many tagless ways to accomplish that same goal. For example, you could use a bit of stage direction:

"My goodness, I'm hungry." Mary laid her napkin in her lap.

In that case, there is no dialogue tag, but the stage direction (Mary laid her napkin in her lap) indicates who the speaker is. This is an effective method for keeping the narrative focused and seamless.

Some of you may already be familiar with the concept of the rule of three -- this notion that the number three comes into play over and over again for good writing. There are two applications of the rule of three to dialogue tags.

First, If you have three or more people speaking in the same conversation, you must find a way to identify the speaker for each and every dialogue exchange. Use a tag or a bit of stage direction, sometimes referred to as a beat.

"What kind of soup is that?" John asked.
"Cream of broccoli." Mary picked up the ladle.
"If it's hot, you'd better get a trivet," the table said.

Second, If you have two people speaking, you can go for three exchanges without any attributions before the reader will start to lose track of who is saying what.

John paused before the closed front door as if reluctant to leave Mary. "Thank you for dinner."
"You're welcome. Sorry about the talking table."
"No, the table was no trouble at all. But maybe next time you'll let me take you out?"
"That would certainly be an aid to good digestion."

Most readers will be able to follow the back-and-forth between John and Mary in the above passage even though three of the quotations are unattributed.

So, your first question when evaluating tags is: can the reader correctly identify the speaker through some means other than a tag? If so, you may not need a tag. But in order to know for sure, you'll have to evaluate the other half of the tag equation.


Speaks

Because there are generally quotation marks around speech (fuggedabout Cold Mountain for the moment), the reader already has a clear visual cue that the words are spoken aloud. So when we're evaluating the speaks half of the speaker speaks formula, we're not so much concerned with the fact of the speech as with the nature of the speech.

If you want to call attention to the manner in which the speech is delivered, you use a verb tag other than said. If the manner of the speech is unimportant, use said or use another attribution method discussed above. In most cases, the manner of speech will be unimportant.

How do you know when to call attention to the manner of speech? There are two rules of thumb that I can think of right offhand. First, if the delivery method is an important bit of action in the narrative, then the tag verb should relate to that action. For example, if Mary has ignored her family's entreaties to get out of bed, perhaps they send her nine-year-old brother Boris to wake her. In that case,

"Good morning, Mary," Boris shouted.

would give us something relevant to the scene action. Boris is shouting in an attempt to rouse his lazy older sister. If Boris says the words instead of shouting them, the action of the scene is impacted. Right?

Second, if the manner of speech is contradicted by the content of the speech, you'll want a non-transparent tag verb to highlight that contradiction.

"Boris, you'll have to speak up. I can't hear you over all the shouting," Mary whispered.

Mary is being sarcastic, of course, but the sarcasm is made more evident by the dialogue tag.


And now, a pet peeve

This is the part where I rant about all the simultaneous constructions in dialogue tags.

"I refuse to hold that turkey. I'm a vegetarian now," the table said as it eyed the 24-pound bird on the enormous heirloom platter.

If we've already established the fact of the talking table, and if the rule of three allows it, you can and should edit that tag. (Remember -- verbs are gemstones. Set them well.)

"I refuse to hold that turkey. I'm a vegetarian now." The table eyed the 24-pound bird on the enormous heirloom platter.


There are probably other rules of thumb I'm overlooking at the moment, but this ought to be enough to get everyone started on better, cleaner dialogue attribution.

Theresa