One of the best places to think about dialogue is at the theatre. If a visit to see a play is out of the question, get hold of a copy of a play to read, (or screenplay/TV script). This will give you a sense of pure dialogue.

Next, take a few minutes and watch this video of interviews with playwrights:  http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/video/how-to-write-dialogue

There are several key points. My favourites are:

1-Every line of dialogue has to have a function.

2- Even so called naturalistic dialogue is, in fact, intensely stylized. Just as a painting is not a photograph… there is an artist and the artist’s hand is over everything… Nobody’s dialogue is real. There is no such thing as a play where people speak as they do in real life. David Hare.

What really comes through to me after watching these interviews is the sense that dialogue is ARTIFICE. That is, it should sound like real speech, but not be full of the tedium of actual speech.

Here’s some overheard dialogue, word for word:

“IT’S, UH, UM, MAYBE I’LL HAVE THE CHICKEN PASTA.”

“Sounds good. I might have, um, yeah, I might have that. I had it last time. Maybe the soup. What did she say it was?”

“Carrot something. You going to have a juice?”

“Yeah. Um, maybe. Hmm, d’you think the orange mango’s good?”

“You had that, I think, last time. How’s Emily?”

“Good, yeah. She’s good. Well, no, the baby has some trouble.”

“Really? Why? Hang on. Tell me in a minute.” (Answers phone – side dialogue about work). “Boring. Work stuff. You know, I think they, uh, really, God, it’s so much to go into, but G’s really making life difficult. They, uh, well, it’s all about the office space. Stupid.”

“That’s still going on?”

“They just, you know, won’t stop insisting. So, what’s wrong with the baby.”

“She said they didn’t know, but then, uh, she took him to another doctor.”

I never heard the rest.

You can see that this transcription (and I didn’t include the phone call) is long and fairly dull. Cutting to the essential would involve perhaps some indirect dialogue.

Indirect dialogue (moving to direct dialogue) looks like this:

They chatted about what to eat. Chicken pasta, soup. There was some talk about work. Then Shelby said, “I have to tell you about Emily’s baby. It’s not good news.” It was as if the whole restaurant went quiet, straining to hear what she said next.

Indirect dialogue sums up the boring bits so we can move to the important parts of a scene. (They chatted about what to eat. Chicken pasta, soup. There was some talk about work.) You may not want to use indirect dialogue all the time, but it’s a useful tool. Even if you decide you don’t like it, remember in direct dialogue to avoid the hellos, goodbyes, and boring chitchat about the weather (unless, of course, the weather is going to play a crucial role).  Get to the heart of what your characters are saying. Remember – every line should have a function.

Notice how the lines I gave the character – “I have to tell you about Emily’s baby. It’s not good news.” – are not lines I ever actually overheard. I made them up so they sounded like speech, although they weren’t from actual speech. Focusing on the artifice of dialogue, remembering that although it should sound like speech it shouldn’t be like actual speech, is how to keep your dialogue working well on the page.

This week’s writing prompt:

Write a dialogue between two people arguing at a restaurant. Set the scene, try and use some indirect dialogue to practice, and think about how to make the dialogue sound real, even though it’s an artifice. Use up to 400 words.

Beginnings, middles, endings. We’ve all heard writers, readers and editors talk about these, but mostly in the context of the whole book. This first of five workshops on FIXES FOR YOUR FICTION we’re going to be looking at how EACH scene in your novel or story needs to have a beginning, middle and ending.

Here’s how a scene should look:

BEGIN with action. Ask: what does the main character want?

ACCELERATE by introducing conflict. Ask: what is stopping the main character?

SUSTAIN as plot points and important information for the rest of the novel are included. Ask: What is this scene trying to achieve?

LEVEL OFF as the character achieves or does not achieve their goal.

END with the question that makes the reader move to the next scene.

If you’re reading through your novel or story and finding that you have a beautifully written scene full of lovely language and gorgeous moments, a scene you remember painstakingly writing, you have to ask yourself:

WHAT IS THIS SCENE ABOUT?

If you don’t have an answer: bad news. You have to be brave and CUT.

This first fix for your fiction applies not only on the scenic level.

Ask yourself:

WHAT IS THIS CHAPTER ABOUT?

And above all:

WHAT IS MY STORY ABOUT?

Keep asking yourself. If you don’t think you have solid answers, you need to dig deep to find them. Believe me, once you know what your book is about, your narrative arc will come alive. You’ll be able to cut extraneous material – scene by scene, chapter by chapter – and take your work to a new level.

This week’s writing prompt:

Although this cycle of workshops is about editing, the writing prompts will be about generating new work. I want you to write a POSTCARD story – a complete story of up to 500 words, with a beginning, middle and end – using the word GHOST to inspire you.

This workshop, we’re going to think about the perspective your scenes are written in. You may have a brilliant plot and a great story, but perhaps readers are saying that they don’t feel like they know your characters well. Perhaps readers are giving you the feedback that your writing feels a bit choppy. By thinking about perspective, I think you can smooth out your writing and help your readers get to know your characters even better.

Here’s an example of a scene written from multiple perspectives (by the way, my feeling is that this piece of writing here DOESN’T WORK ON THE PAGE)

Katherine sighed. She felt lonely when Harry left like that. She looked at the door. He turned back. He was tired of the same old argument.

He said, “I’m going now.” His mouth was dry.

She wanted to cry but she stopped herself.

Angel arrived. She yawned. These guys were always at the point of breaking up. “Hey there, you two. Fighting again?” She’d had a long, hard day at work and she was bored of coming home to her roommates doing this.

Can you see that we shift from Katherine’s perspective, to Harry’s, back to Katherine’s, then on to Angel’s. When I read something like this, it feels to me like I can’t just sit down and enjoy the story. Each time the writing changes perspective, it feels like I have to, as a reader, change perspective too.

Sometimes it works beautifully. You can have an omniscient narrator who sees everything. But often changing perspective too often in the same scene distances your reader from your characters because they can’t settle into the story. They can’t get to know any character well. By trying to see the scene from too many angles, the reader doesn’t get to see the scene at all.

Look at the same scene as above from Katherine’s perspective only.

Katherine looked at Harry standing by the open door. He filled the frame – she loved that he was so gigantic. If only he wasn’t so angry. She could see the way a small muscle twitched in his cheek, a sure sign he was furious, but she wasn’t going to apologize.

            “I mean it, Kate,” he said. “I’m going now.”

            It took everything she had to shrug and pretend she didn’t care.

            Angel appeared in the corridor behind Harry, and squeezed past him into the living room. “You guys fighting again?” she asked. She flung herself onto the couch and switched on the TV, flicking from channel to channel.

            Harry glared at Katherine. “I’m not coming back.”

            Katherine said, very softly, “Don’t make out this is my fault.”         

How does it read to you when you stay in the same perspective all the way through? Does it make it easier for you to imagine the scene and get to know Katherine? Try the writing prompt this week and see if staying in the same perspective works for you in your work.

This week’s writing prompt:

Write 250 words of a breakup scene from the point of view of one character. Write another 250 words of the same scene from the perspective of the second character.