Dialogue is essential to most stories. Writing dialogue is one of my favorite aspects of storytelling. Good dialogue can help accomplish three things.
1. Develop characters – Giving your characters a voice can tell your readers a lot about them. It can reveal their personalities, motivation, and intention far more and efficiently than a narrative.
2. Drive the story forward – As you establish your characters, their interactions with each other should lead to further developments to build your story, driving the plot from one stage to the next.
3. Form conflict and tension – Not always the case, but essential in fight stories. Dialogue is a great way to show the motivation of your characters, establish conflict, and build up tension leading up to your fight scene.
Please note that there is much that can be discussed on this topic. I will only cover a brief review and go over examples from my stories. Again, I am not the best author on FCF. My examples are not the best either, but they are what I have available. Because this review is short, I invite everyone to contribute ideas to it and add to the thread. I would be honored.
Rules of Grammar in Writing Dialogue
I see a lot of common errors on FCF with dialogue in stories (including my own). Before getting into techniques of writing dialogue, I think it might be worthwhile to review basic grammar of dialogue.
1. Start a new paragraph when changing speakers – few things kill a story quicker than a large block of text with multiple speakers. It places a burden on readers to sort out who is saying what. No thanks. I know some readers are concerned that additional paragraphs require a longer scroll down for cell phone readers. Don’t worry about it. Start a new paragraph every time a speaker changes. Indent or space it as you would with any paragraph.
2. Use quotation marks before and after the speaker’s words. Americans use double quotation marks, British use single quotation marks.
3. Use commas appropriately for dialog tags. Dialogue tags are phrases that convey which character is speaking (e.g. He said, I said, etc). They can occur in the beginning, middle, or end of a quote. They are preceded of followed by commas, depending on the situation.
Example. My husband said, “It’s a beautiful day to play golf.” “It’s a beautiful day to play golf,” my husband said. “It’s a beautiful day,” my husband said, ‘to play golf.”
4. Capitalize the first letter of the beginning of the quote. Marie said, “Your cat is adorable.”
5. Periods and commas fall inside closing quotations – it is very easy to mess this one up.
The nurse’s aide said, “Kiva, the patient in bed 12 wishes to see you.” Or “Kiva, the patient in bed 12 wishes to see you,” the nurse’s aide said. Question marks and exclamation points could fall inside or outside the quotation marks depending on the situation. I won’t go into it here but it is worth looking up if you are unfamiliar with their usage in quotes.
6. Use single quotes within dialogue. Example: Sarah told me, “I heard Laura cry out, ‘Help!’”
Considerations in Writing Dialogue
1. Place a dialogue early in your story. A dialogue can even be your opening paragraph. I believe readers pay more attention to dialogue than narrative. The earlier you can give your characters their voices, it is usually better for your story. Think about what you want to show about your characters and where you want your plot to go and use your characters to build your stories.
2. Use of dialogue tags: Finding the best way to use dialogue tags can be challenging. Not every quote needs a dialogue tag. In fact, they are not required. They are useful for readers to keep track of who is speaking. Underuse of tags might confuse readers; overuse could be awkward and drag your dialogue. I try to use them sparingly, just enough to keep readers on the path. Fewer tags helps with the flow of the dialogue, especially if it’s fast paced, but be careful that it remains clear who is speaking.
3. Alternative to dialogue tags: The tags using the word “said” as in “he said” is the most common and simplest of dialogue tags. It can seem repetitive and you might consider finding other verbs as an alternative. One approach to identify the speaker is to address the listener by name. Example: “Kiva, would you like to play golf today?” Addressing characters by name should also be limited as it is not how we speak normally and can be awkward and distracting if overused.
Common alternative verbs to “said” could be replied, asked, inquired, answered, responded, shouted, sighed, groaned, etc. Some writers, like Stephen King, strongly advise against using adverbs in your dialogue tags (e.g. “spoke softly”, “said angrily”), and finding better verbs instead. Other writers advise against using other descriptors in your tags, like “gasped with horror” in favor of showing actions of the speaker being horrified (eyes bulging, hand to her mouth etc.).
4. Combine dialogue with action: It’s perfectly alright to have your characters doing things as they dialogue. Action while speaking can advance your characters and your story. Also, it is another method of limiting dialogue tags. Example: Susan pounded her fist onto the table. “Get out of here, now!”
5. Length of dialogue: In general, keep it short. Avoid unnecessary verbiage and long speeches.
6. Realistic dialogue: It is perfectly fine for your characters to break the rules of grammar when they speak. They may use fragmented sentences, single words, grammatically incorrect phrases. That is typical of real life. Keep your characters distinct. It’s easy to fall into the trap of having your characters sound exactly the same. It helps to know the demographic of your characters. I’ve had chats and seen posts by “real life catfighters” who claim to be in their 20s or 30s but use expressions of speech you only hear in baby boomers. Every generation forms its own colloquialisms. My Generation Z college students often use words and phrases of which I am not familiar.
7. Subtext: This is a more advanced skill in writing. Subtext in dialogue is when words or actions imply a meaning that is not in the literal text. Nurses see it all the time in our patients. Patients who are fearful, anxious, in pain, etc. might not come out and say it, but we can pick it up by what they say. Think of dating. Guys who hope to spend the night with their date don’t say, “I find you really attractive. Let’s have sex.” They may say something flattering, ask if they can buy a drink, and so on. Good subtext can add a deeper layer to dialog, but unless you’re planning to write a complex drama, I wouldn’t bother yet.
Example 1
This from a story called Travel Nurse, which has yet to be posted. Consider it a preview. This introduces a character named Robin.
Over the next hour, I’m at Mr. Bailey’s bedside with what seems like a hundred other people. We inserted a central venous line, an arterial catheter, sent labs, pushed blood transfusions, infused albumin, and dripped vasoconstrictors in his vein to maintain his blood pressure. Finally, he is temporarily stabilized and sent to the operating room for emergency surgery. All the doctors exit, leaving me with a messy room to clean, anticipating the patient’s return. Time for a breather.
“Excuse me, excuse me? Are you Kiva?” I hear a female voice address me from the hall, just outside the patient room.
“Yes, I am. How can I help you?” I answer instinctively as I turn around. I don’t recognize the woman. She appears to be about 30 years old, about medium height and thin. She has a pretty face with thin features. Her hair is long and black with stylish small curls and pulled back. She is dressed in jeans and a blouse with a light tan jacket.
“I was watching you work on that patient,” she started. “You know, that is not the proper way to lift a patient. You should never bend over like you did. Always bend your knees and squat. That’s why so many nurses have bad backs. They use poor technique. Didn’t you learn that in nursing school?”
“Well yeah, I know how to lift-“
“And I saw you insert that arterial catheter in the radial artery. You didn’t check first to see if the ulnar artery had a good blood flow. Some people don’t have an ulnar artery and you could have caused him to lose his hand.”
“What? That is super rare and beside this is was an emergency. And exactly who am I speaking to?”
“Is that your coffee cup on top of the crash cart?” This woman is on a roll. “Food and drink should NEVER be permitted in a patient care area. Especially on a crash cart. That is totally unacceptable.”
What the fuck? Is this woman a state safety inspector? A reviewer from Joint Commission? In casual clothes? Probably not. Maybe she’s one of those conspiracy nuts wanting to warn the world that healthcare workers kill people. She’s still not done.
“Why is a linen cart in the hallway? You would get a Joint Commission citation for that. And look at that ceiling tile. That looks like mold to me. Do you want to infect patients with-“
“STOP!” I interrupt her loudly enough to attract attention of half the ICU. “Just stop it? Who ARE you?”
“My name is Robin,” she replies. “Robin Price. I’m a travel nurse. I’ll be working here for the next month. This is my first day here. They told me to see you for a quick orientation. Where can I find scrubs?”
It would have been nice if someone told me I had to orient a travel nurse with the crazy day I’m having. “OK Robin, thank you for your suggestions. We will take them under advisement. Now come with me. “I’m Kiva Sheppard…or Kiva Raines for now.”
The goal here is to establish Robin as an annoying know-it-all on a temporary assignment and has the audacity to criticize established workers. I suspect many of you have experienced something like this. The story is now ready to go into boil mode as Robin becomes a source of tension and conflict.
Example 2
This is from Dance Mom Dust-Up from Kiva’s Fight Journal. The dialog introduces a new character named Luanne.
“Hi, I’m Luanne,” said the other mom in the waiting room. I look up, reluctantly. I’d rather keep reading uninterrupted but the woman is just being friendly. No reason not to be polite.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Kiva.”
“That’s an interesting name,” she answers. I smile in return. If the situation were different, I might have explained why I received that name but today, I don’t have time. Luanne looks a bit taller than me at around 5’9” with long legs. Her hair is long and blonde. Similar to me, her hair is in a ponytail and she’s dressed in jeans but with a sweater and boots.
“I presume you have a daughter in this class?” she asks, apparently ignorant of my need for quiet reading.
“Yes,” I answer, “Her name is Clarissa.”
“My little girl is Madison,” she replies. “Madison has been dancing since she was two years old. This is her third year of formal dance school. I’m not supposed to say anything but Bethany the instructor is planning to have Madison in the lead position at the recital.”
Oh please don’t let this be one of THOSE parents, I’m thinking.
“Very nice,” I say. “You must be very proud of her,” I add as I ponder the significance of leading a performance of little girls in tutus and ducky costumes.
“Oh yes,” she continues. “My Maddie is a natural leader. She’s the captain of her soccer team and she made the traveling cheerleading competitive team.
No such luck. She IS one of those parents.
“Oh, I see,” I answer, turning my nose back to the book on my lap as Luanne turns her attention to her tablet. After a few minutes, my concentration is shattered again.
“Did you ever have one of those frustrating moments when technology isn’t working at the worst possible time?” she asks. “I spent an hour filling out all the online forms to register Madison for the gifted program. Wouldn’t you know when I click submit, an error window pops up. Guess I’ll have to go to the school myself and talk to the admins.”
Oh lady, please shut up.
“I think she’s going to be like my oldest son,” the braggart goes on, “he’s a senior in high school, he’s ranked second in his class and he’s captain of the tennis team. He’ll be going to Baylor on a full scholarship.”
“Oh,” I mutter, my responses becoming shorter and lower in volume.
“And my middle school son won the President’s Award for Educational Excellence. He won first place at the science fair for his work in superconductors. He’s ranked second in the state in chess for his age group. When he grows up, he wants to do research on the use of nanotechnology to treat cancer.”
I notice Luann’s eyes light up as she boorishly drones on.
“But Maddie will be the literary one in the family. She just wrote an essay criticizing the historical inaccuracy of Disney films. I mean, it’s appalling that kids watch movies like Pocahontas and believe it’s nonfiction.
Of course, I’m thinking. We can’t sully little Maddie’s brain by having her watch fantasy.
“Sounds like you have...um...interesting kids,” I offer. Luann catches none of my cynicism. The truth is I know much more about Madison than Luanne will ever realize. Maddie is a chronic bed wetter. I know this because I occasionally volunteer as a substitute school nurse when my schedule allows. Maddie has had a few accidents in class and is seeing a child psychologist. Let me be clear. I’m not ready to blame the parents without knowing all the details, but I do know that psychological stress is a common major factor in such cases. Given the high expectations her parents demand of her, I’m seeing red flags.
“Yes,” she says. “My husband and I have set standards. After all, he graduated at the top of his law school class. In college, he was Vice President of his college’s chapter of Phi Beta Kappa. Do you know what that is? That’s the most prestigious honor society in the world. It was started in 1776 at Harvard University...”
“I know all about Phi Beta Kappa,” I interrupted....”I’m a member.”
“Really,” Luann exclaims, looking at me for the first time with even the vaguest hint of interest.
“Yes,” I reply, “I was elected my senior year.”
“Oh,” she responds. “Well, that’s impressive. Very few students ever get chosen.”
“To be honest,” I explain, “I was shocked. PhiBK was never anything I thought about. It wasn’t one of my goals. My advisor put in my name and I got chosen. I really didn’t expect it.”
“Well,” the blonde mom asks, “I see you have some kind of medical book. Are you a doctor?”
“No.”
“Are you a research scientist?”
“No.”
She looks at me with an expression of anticipation, waiting for me to reveal my occupation, clearly enthused with the discovery that she is in the company of an elite individual.
“I’m a nurse.”
For a few seconds there’s an awkward silence. Her face is a mixture of confusion and quickly deflating enthusiasm for her waiting room mate. Finally, she spoke.
“Oh...well,...that’s interesting. I didn’t know Phi Beta Kappa took nursing majors.”
Here we go again with the “just a nurse” mentality. Translation: “If you’re so smart, why did you choose a career in something as menial as nursing?”
“I guess you’re right,” I answer. “PhiBK prefers liberal arts and science over professional degrees. But like I said, PhiBK was never my goal.”
“But, didn’t you want to do...more?”
How ignorant. I don’t owe this woman any explanation but I’ll try anyway.
“No, nursing is enough for me. In addition to my patient care, I’m a manager, I’m on faculty at the university where I teach nursing classes. I’ve written text book chapters and I’ve been involved in clinical research. It’s been a fulfilling career for me. Nursing gives me a sense of meaning and purpose....And that’s what I want for my kids...a life of purpose and meaning.”
She breathes out a half-hearted “I see” before returning to the topic of her family’s greatness. “We push our kids to reach their full potential. They need to learn that it’s a competitive world. Second place isn’t good enough. We taught them to recite the quote from Vince Lombardi, ‘Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing.’ Most people are born to be followers. My kids were born to be leaders.”
This is getting infuriating. At what point does pushing your kids become child abuse? My first inclination is to ignore her but the compulsion to speak is now overwhelming.
“How do they learn life skills?” I ask. “How do they learn from their mistakes? In any competition, disappointment and failure are inevitable for everyone at some point. Don’t they need coping mechanisms. Don’t they need to learn healthy and gracious ways of accepting victory and defeat?”
“Not at all,” Luanne coldly answers. “Discussion of defeat is not permitted. In our trophy room, we keep a plaque with a quote by Knute Rockne, ‘Show me a good and gracious loser, and I’ll show you a failure.’”
I really don’t like this woman. But in a strange way, I’m curious. What drives her to dehumanize her kids? Usually, I found that parents who push their kids to be super competitive are dealing with their own unresolved issues. Their kids are stand-ins for their own unfulfilled dreams and desires. I decide to probe a bit.
Many of us can relate to parents who want nothing else from us but to hear how wonderful they’re kids are. This dialogue is to introduce Luanne as an obnoxious braggart and a person who is probably full of herself, pushing perfectionism on her kids. This conversation builds up tension and sets the story in motion. It also provides fertile ground for character development. In a later chapter, Luanne comes out of nowhere and shockingly performs a heroic selfless act, setting up her disturbing backstory.
Example 3
This is from “Waiting At The Door”. Two neighborhood mothers have a very heated exchange when one of them criticizes the other’s son. If you want to enrage a woman, there is no more effective way than to knock her kids and her parenting skills.
“Hi Patsy, come on in,” Margaret offered. Patsy dropped her cigarette, stamping it out on Margaret’s porch before kicking it into the dirt and entering the foyer.
With a serious scowl on her face, Patsy growled, “Don’t you ever, ever, EVER, badmouth my son again. If you EVER spread lies about my family again, I WILL OWN YOUR ASS.”
Margaret was incredulous. Is this a challenge? she wondered. The woman in front of her appeared tense. At 5’4”, about an inch shorter and at least ten pounds lighter than Margaret, she hardly seemed like someone who’d make such an audacious threat. Her tight curly dark brown hair topped off an angry face featuring intense green eyes and pursed lips. Her face looked older than her actual age of 32 years. Must be from all that smoking, Margaret thought. Her body seemed tone, but Patsy was never regarded as athletic. The nerve of this woman.
“Whoa, Patsy,” slow down. I didn’t badmouth anyone,” Margaret replied, “but let’s look at the facts.” She then voiced a litany of Joey’s misdeeds, some of them factual, others based on hearsay.
“He’s just being a boy,” Patsy explained. “He’s no better or worse than any other kid. I know my children aren’t perfect. But I don’t pretend, like you, to be the best mom with the best kids.”
“Seriously, Pat? Do you think Joey’s normal? You need a reality check. He’s a little conman. And boy, does he have you fooled. You need to wake up and do something before that boy ends up in jail….He’s a bad kid, Pat.”
Patsy clenched her teeth and hands, looking down at the floor. Her voice was low, and with a stuttering cadence, she raised her fist. “You…and…I…are…going…to…settle…this…woman…to…woman.”
Margaret smirked. “Oh really, Patsy? Are you challenging me to a fight?”
Keeping her teeth clenched, Patsy answered. “That’s…exactly…what…I’m doing…I’m…calling…you…out.”
Margaret’s smirk now erupted into a hearty laugh. “You think you can beat me in a fight? You’re dreaming, girl. If it weren’t for the kids due home any minute, I’d whip your ass right now.”
“Then name the time and place,” Patsy shot back.
Margaret felt a mix of emotions. She knew this solution was irrational. She was apprehensive about the idea of a physical fight, but on the other hand, her competitive nature did not allow her to back down. Growing up as a tomboy, she had plenty of friendly tussles with her brothers and their friends. When she was bullied in school, her father taught her to fight. “Never take any crap from anybody,” he’d say. She had an actual fight in high school against a female bully that was quickly broken up. Despite her lack of real fight experience, Margaret had no doubt she could hold her own against anyone. And chain-smoking Patsy Clark would be no match.
That’s enough for now. Please comment.
