Write Better: 12 Tips for Producing Realistic Dialogue
How people really talk. In fragments. And implications. Non-Sequiturs. For power.
Sad to say, most professional authors whom I read these days lack a certain knack for producing dialogue which sounds real. Substantial. Believable. Differentiated. Instead, we get a lot of data-dumps, or everyone talking the same, or explicit expressions of character emotion and intent. More wooden dialogue than a forest of trees nattering at each other when the winter snow begins to melt.
Most of the dialogue I read on Substack, unfortunately, lacks nuance or the sure touch of authenticity. It wants too badly to tell rather than show. See, that’s not how people really talk in real life. It may be serviceable, but it’s rarely gripping.
REALISTIC CADENCE
First: Fragments. People talk in fragments. Short stuff. Bad grammar. Right? Umm… true. I guess. Guess so. No doubt. That’s it. The real. People really do it that way. They repeat, they repeat stuff and --uh-- stammer. They are thinking and speaking at the same time. It’s got a rhythm. Their voice, their point of view, it kinda comes out. It comes in bursts of thought. Maybe, maybe they pull an idiom out of their memory. They try it. They hear it. They like how it sounds. Or not. So it was like that, then. Now it’s…now. They switch up tense. You know? You know how, sometimes, you change to second person? You do it. Right? Because well, we all do. They’re talking and…thoughts gather. By saying it outloud they figure out what they really want to say and then-- try again.
SUBTEXT AND DESIRE
Second, consider subtext. Always remember that when people talk to each other, it’s ever and forever about what they WANT even though —especially though— they almost never say it so plainly or directly. Never. Sometimes they know what they want on the surface but they don’t know why they want it. Other times the subtext is apparent to everyone else but them. More often, it’s just not polite… so they pretend, they prevaricate, they feign. People have desires they can’t admit, or articulate, or only vaguely understand. Because: humans.
When you write, never have your characters or your narrator say much directly. Avoid it like the plague of the page. Yet too often I find myself shaking my head and wondering outloud to the gods of fiction, “Why is this person telling me directly what they’re feeling? Or imposing their interpretation on me?” It’s annoying to any sensible reader.
Even the simplest thing someone might say has a subtext, a desire to shape how someone sees them, an emotion they think is important to express. That’s true even if they can’t say it directly, because to say it directly would be vulnerable or uncouth. Or dangerous. Or disrespectful. Social mores say: don’t make demands. But people’s hearts say: I must, or I will die of frustration. I will die. That’s the conflict everytime, and it’s a conflict between the literal-minded but pleasant minnows swimming upon mild social currents versus the darker subtext shark swimming below, all teeth and forward motion to stay alive.
If you can’t analyze your own writing, and your character’s speech, in that context… then maybe you are not such a great observer of human nature. Maybe you want to write just to tell the world you exist. But you won’t be a great writer unless you can subjugate your desire to sound smart (through the mouths of your characters) to the greater demand of capturing life as it is lived by real human beings. And if you have no real insight about how humans really are… why would a reader want to read your work?
That’s a writer’s true value proposition: you see and hear and understand the nuances of homo sapien behavior and the world at large, and you can communicate it a powerful way which elicits an epiphany or catharsis in the reader.
Often, the number one way to do that which delights readers is via dialogue. The push and pull of humans in social settings and the subtext they express while doing so. Most often, it’s not what a person says on the surface at all. At all.
To that degree, there is a valuable social skill for you to have as an observant writer who wants to produce dialogue which grabs readers and sounds true: always ask, “how does these words allow a character or a narrator to express their wants… without saying any of it quite directly?”
As an author, you should be a student of human nature, naturally. So learn to “read” people (real humans) and figure out their true desires from what they say. Your dialogue will sound more realistic if you can do that.
Without a doubt, one way to practice that skill is to read a lot of good literature and see if you can infer and guess implied truths from what the characters says. The subtext of their statements.
Notice that the best authors are always communicating on two levels at once: the literal and the deeper level of desire. If a writer doesn’t offer that, put that book down and find someone who can do it for you. Also, become an active listener in real life for the same things. Develop your ear for it. (I will offer some examples below, of course.)
In theater, this emotional subtext is sometimes called a character’s “through-line”. It’s what they really want. Often some words as smple as, “Mom, can I have some money to go to the mall? Timmy and Squibbs are getting ice-cream there…” is really saying: I’m afraid my friends will strengthen their social circle without me.
So when mom says, “No, we have ice-cream in the freezer, Dottie,” it shouldn’t come as a surprise when, next, little eleven year old Dot gives a squeal entirely non-apropos to the context and whinnies, “Moooomm, you never let me do anything!!”
Most of the time what someone is actually saying when they are talking to another human is: give me social status. Or: this is the hierarchy of power in our relationship. Or they’re grasping for some sense of control. (Not being in control is humiliating, but we’re forced into social situations which challenge our fear of shame all the time). The degree to which a character speaks their truth about the subtext of their desire, all while trying to cloak it in politesse, is the degree to which they sound real.
Our ultimate human desire to have agency over the roller-coaster of our lives is surely expressed by a writer in numerous ways. It can be elicited by the narrator, if they are the voice of the story. It may be unconsciously expressed by the author themselves. (Writer, know theyself). And of course each of your characters must also have their own voice and quest for agency.
DIFFERENT FOLKS, DIFFERENT STROKES
Third, differentiate your voices. Think about it: have you really ever heard two people on earth talk the same? Each one of us grew up in a different household, in a different part of town, with different DNA, with different tastes and influences. All of that must be embedded in the words we choose for our characters, the way we decide to have them say things, the actions they take, and the hopes embedded in how and when they decide to speak.
When you arrive at a hotel and there is a problem with your room key, a Brit is going to say they will “get you sorted,” an American will “get you set-up” and an American from California might say they will “get it fixed for you.” An Australian might say, “no worries,” whereas someone born in China and now living in the West might say, “It’s a pity. One moment, please.”
So when your characters are speaking, always remember where they’re from. Even keep a list of different idioms that you come across so that you can capture the timbre and cadence of each specific person in your story just right.
(I have a file of British ways to talk, for example, and it includes phrases like: “you’re a bit of a boffin after you get your kip in, so if you’re knackered ‘cause you’re comin in off the piss, well, don’t be daft, go on then.”) On the other hand, use, such colloquialisms sparingly. You don’t want to be a total nonce.
DIALOGUE WORKS BETTER THAN DESCRIPTION
As you probably know, being a writer who isn’t totally “offer their rocker” but is “minted” and not a bit “wonky”, dialogue is a great way to advance the plot and characterize people at the same time. It’s also less less boring than a big block of text. It lets readers make up their own mind about who is right or who is wrong in a situation. Therefore, if you can write good dialogue, you can write a good story.
(In fact, while you might not want to become a playwright, try writing a play once in your life as writer just to get some practice at the all gas no brakes style of a story that’s based soley on dialogue).
CONFLICT
What this achieves is (tip number four): it creates the possibility of conflict. After all, conflict is the lifeblood of a story. It gets the reader’s pulse racing.
Dialogue is inherently exciting to read or hear because there is always some kind of small but real conflict going on when people talk. Conflict is what makes stories interesting. When reading a story, we always want to know who is going to get hurt when there is a clash of minds and desires. We want to align with the winner, after all, because to lose is to fail to survive.
So, when reading or writing, and indeed in the greater social world of our lives, we should always be looking to understand this basic question: Who wants what? What do their words tell you about what they really desire or hope for? How is their desire going to affect someone else who also wants things? How is the conflict going to come up and how is it going to resolved?
Who will insist they deserve to get what they want even if it hurts someone? Are they right or wrong about it? Is power abuse merely the way of the world, or is there a better more human way? Who enforces the social norms and outcomes? Who will nearly die inside and then survive and learn? Who will fail and then plunge into depression or maybe death? Who will go along with others because they want to get by? Who will ask for pity, who will ask for a friend, who will volunteer to give up their own desires to help another? All of that is conflict, really, and we always want to know how it turns out.
In fact, conflict is why we humans love to read and tell stories at all. We want to find out how to avoid such pain ourselves or learn something from tales of misfortune or triumph.
Dialogue in stories without a doubt dramatizes conflicts better than almost any technique in storytelling. Therefore, if you are a reader… you need to learn to appreciate dialogue. And if you are a writer or a person who socializes with others, you need to learn to understand dialogue as a weapon of want and weal or woe.
Why? It is because dialogue always involves power (one person may be flexing their power on another, or someone wants more power), morality, characterization, class issues, layers of truth (maybe a surface of polite fictions that hides a shark below the waters), and wit… all the delicious food for thought that face to face human interaction entails (and literature provides).
For example:
Student: This book is borrrning.
Professor: What? It’s my favorite--
Student: Totally borrr…(The teacher glares at the student). Um, ok. Poor at the rhetorical arts. Totally.
Professor: In fact, it’s yourrrrr own fault. (Mocks the tone of the student).
Student: (blinks, doesn’t want to answer. Internally, they are debating how much shame they have been forced to confront, and weighing the odds of success or consequence).
Professor: Maybe you just don’t get it. Can’t understand, gave up. Didn’t try to read it. Like always.
Student: I had a stomach ache.
Professor: Yeah?
Student: But I did read… some.
Professor: Prove it. Who said: “To thine own self be true?”
Student: Umm…
Professor: Yeah… Umm. Hurr durr.
Student: MacBeth?
Professor: Bzzzzz. It’s Hamlet! Maybe, maybe you should be true to yourself, too… and read the book first before you dog on it! Don’t cheat yourself. You could even learn something…if you’d just get off your phone and do some work.
Now, in the above example, the obvious conflict is that the student didn’t read their assigned reading but was complaining about it anyway because their deflection helps them maintain their sense of self as a victim who’s confronting the unfair system of schooling which has made their existence one of suffering. So there’s the first conflict: Man versus system. But also an internal one: Lie vs truth. (People will always choose the soothing lie rather than the humiliating truth. In this case, the truth is— school is a benevolent boon to every student on earth, an expression of generous largesse bestowed upon kids by loving adults. I know that for a fact because I’m a teacher myself, ha ha).
So, the second conflict is an internal conflict in the mind and heart of the student. They had to decide if they would continue to lie or lose face by admitting the truth. Third, obviously there is an external direct conflict of student vs the teacher. The teacher has their own desires as well, one of which is to affirm their own leadership, intelligence, and acumen to the rest of the willing class. And they may have a desire to show that the student was wrong because they need to maintain their own personal narrative that the world needs them, that the earth is teeming with uneducated dolts who, if they’d only listen to the earnest and kind teacher, they could usher in the utopia of education that could solve all of Earth’s problems. (People always seem themselves as the hero in their personal narrative). After all, do you really expect the teacher to agree that they are a loser, an ineffective instructor, and that the world is careening out of control faster than they can fix it due to the electronic poison of modern telecommunications devices?
With all that conflict, someone was going to get hurt. Either the student was going to be embarrassed in front of their peers or the teacher was going to lose the respect of the other students for mocking a kid (even if the teacher was right). Or maybe the teacher would question their career choice and wonder why they were trying to teach Shakespeare to a bunch of kids who didn’t care to learn a damn thing.
But, if the teacher didn’t force their “agenda”, then they wouldn’t have been doing their job as a teacher (and might lose their job) since teachers are supposed to push kids a little to motivate them. And they damn sure won’t get fired over the fact the student is a ne’r-do-well.
WHAT’S AT STAKE IN YOUR DIALOGUE?
So, in the above scene, there were numerous conflicts and a complex number of outcomes, some better some worse, for a reader to predict and judge. A lot was at stake for both characters. There were all kinds of conflicts or issues each character had to “negotiate” in that little bit of dialogue.
Was there a moral aspect to the interaction? Did the conversation allow the reader to decide who was right or wrong? Was the teacher right to embarrass the student? Was their tone too mean even if they were right? (Could it be both?)
In addition, was the reader free to take a side and make up their own mind about things rather than being “told” what to think by some text? Moreover, did either speaker ever actually say directly what they wanted or thought? Or was it a dance of competing desires that were sublimated below a surface of feints and evasions?
(After all, the student in you probably took the student’s side automatically because kids sympathize with other kids who have to do awful things like read Shakespeare. But maybe the writer in you said, “well, hey, everyone knows that quote. It’s the Bard of Avon after all, and he’s got his Avon products to sell).
Or, did you disdain the lazy student who doesn’t have the taste and sense to dig some of the best literature of all time? It might depend on: are you a parent yet yourself?
We can ask: Was the teacher witty by making a “gameshow buzz” sound, or repeating the long “rrrrrr” sound of the student in order to mock them? Did they seem cool to the other kids by using the slang words “to dog on it”? Or were they just trying too hard to be hip? Was there an imbalance of power between the two characters? If there was, was it acceptable? Did we learn more about each one of them in terms of characterization? And should you now subscribe to Extablisment’s Substack?
Obviously, the answer is yes to all of those questions.
Such is the power of dialogue to tell a story that intrigues a reader. It’s efficient storytelling in terms of characterization as well as offering some fireworks. After all, a good writer might be poetic in describing things, but we animals want meat.
Also, did you notice that the idiom “to thine own self be true” was in there too? And did you see that the teacher used that quote with wit both as an example to prove the student didn’t read the text as well as to give a moral that they could impress on the kid about being a good student? Wasn’t that truly worthwhile? That’s wit-- one set of words serves two purposes.
Lastly, did you notice that neither of them spoke in complete sentences very often?
We’ll reiterate our TIP NUMBER ONE again now.
Unfortunately, the worst stories have people talking like an essay would be written. For example, in a “space ship drama”, someone might say: “Sir, as your chief defense officer I regret to inform you that the enemy is approaching from the left side of the ship and we are vulnerable due to the fact that our shields are down.”
Bleh. That’s not how people really talk. Instead, they’d say: “Enemy, left flank. Shields down. It’s-- um, we’re going to die. Now.”
But the captain says nothing. He only arches an eyebrow.
“Uh, we’re going to die…Sir.”
(In fact, the captain need not say anything to communicate that he wants to be addressed with respect. Sometimes body language is the way people communicate, a few silences or gestures instead of a reply can also tell a story).
Sure, there may be times when people have to speak more formally, and we all shape our words for the audience and context. But in terms of day to day speech, most people talk in short bursts. If you are writing dialogue, it’s good to first write out the words you want the person to say and then go back and trim them. Cut them in half or less if you can. It will sound more real.
Instead of “I think you should watch this video of a boy eating a ghost pepper and throwing up,” a real person would say, “Check this. Guy eats a pepper. Freakin ghost pepper! Throws up…”
Or, how about this: “Check it out-- This guy, ghost pepper!” She nodded at the video screen and made put her hands to her throat like she was gagging, bugging her eyes out.
That’s all you need, and then you can let a description of body language tell the rest of the tale.
CREATIVITY: DON’T BORE YOUR READER
Tip Numero Cinco: Use Dialogue Description Creatively, and avoid over-description.
Often, it’s good to let the words themselves do the talking. If you over-explain things too much when describing how people talk, it gets tiresome for the reader.
Examples: “I’m innocent!” he exclaimed.
“Are you really human?” he inquired.
“I’m unhappy,” she opined.
“You’re a dead man,” he roared.
Notice that “Exclaimed” is already implied by the exclamation mark; the same goes for “inquired” by the question mark; opined is a little over-articulate and distracting; roared is near impossible to believe.
So, if you are adding extra description about the way someone is talking, do it sparingly and have some good reason to do it.
“Stop it,” she hissed under her breath so the teacher wouldn’t catch them glancing at their phones in class again.
The hiss helps characterize someone as “snake-like” and can help the reader infer what the person is really like-- it’s urgent and they have the right to dictate others’ actions. So, there is a dramatic purpose for the extra information.
Often it’s a good idea to describe what the person is doing while they are talking.
“Um, I’m not so sure.” She bit her pencil eraser.
Now, there are no “connective words” that logically link the person’s action to their words. But the reader infers that it is her nervousness about being unsure that is leading her to perform the action of biting her eraser compulsively.
Also, go ahead and every once and a while offer a colorful description using a metaphor or a simile if it helps characterize.
“Bwah ha ha,” she brayed like a donkey.
Here, the narrator has a point of view and is passing a moral judgment on the cartoon-like character they are describing. This may help the story’s conflict or contrast the more polite and good main character with the flawed person who sounds like a coarse animal.
BE CLEVER, THE SAME WAY PEOPLE IN LIFE WANT TO BE
Six: Use Idioms to Sound Realistic and Clever: People also talk in idioms and echo quotes from their influences (allusions), shared culture, and meme-like jokes, etc.
Example: She almost fell down the stairs on her way to the lunchroom.
“Hello darkness my old friend,” Tom grinned.
Indeed, often dialogue is “meta” and contains the content or basic idea that someone is communicating as well as making some commentary on that content such as sarcasm or exaggeration. And they often use common cultural references as social currency.
“Helloooo daaaaarkness!” means they don’t even think it is really that dark since they over-exaggerated the use of the idiom. And if they’re a Gen-X teacher, they may say it like the song “hello Dolly”, even if people younger than them won’t get the joke and people older than them won’t paraphrase Simon and Garfunkel in such an ironic memey way.
The context of singing part of a song by Simon and Garfunkel to a group of other Gen X or Millenials also says: “See, we all appreciate this, we’ve all heard this before, we are an in-group, we have the shared frame of reference. We find the same things amusing, even stupid things.” Voila— social cachet. (It won’t work on Gen Z, though, because they won’t even know Paul Simon from their elbow in a SNL skit. You’re better off quoting Mr. Beast or saying “six seven” to them).
Still, when we over-exaggerate a small thing like, “Oh, it’s our friend darkness, because life is such a struggle,” it’s an idiom both true and silly. Plus, it really communicates something more: a need that says “I want us to share a common thing. I want you to pity my hard life, but in a humorous way because I can’t really admit how deeply sad I am.”
So… good dialogue and idiom-use allows characters to have complex “context” and “connotation” when they speak. This characterizes them and also creates conflicts between what is hoped and what is true. It also allows for wit, multiple meanings and forces the reader to make moral judgements. Viola: writing that lives and breathes.
TIP NUMBER THREE, REDUX More on Desire.
Again, good dialogue signals to readers that you’re an expert on human nature and someone worth reading. You are communicating that you know that people Are Always Really Communicating What They Want No Matter What They Say.
If a student says, “Good Morning, Mr Kevin,” when I walk by, maybe that is just being polite, right? But… the student wants to be perceived as polite. Their sweetness reveals that they hope to be loved or appreciated, that they want acknowledgement as a good polite person and good student in a world of cold homo-sapiens.
Also, maybe it is human habit to greet someone to make sure they are not a threat. That’s why we greet others, actually. We show our hands to indicate no weapon is in them. Greetings really say: “I’m friendly, don’t be afraid”. Well, again, the person wants to be known as friendly.
Survival is always on people’s minds. In the example of the Spaceship captain example above, what is really on the mind of the defense officer? Survival, not dying!
No matter what their words say, everyone wants something. It is the “subtext” of good dialogue that lets a reader figure that out and then be delighted that they can infer what is really going on.
This conflation of desire for the social pacification of others via politesse with the need to really get what we want in life (without seeming craven) leads to a lot of:
USE NONSEQUITURS
Here’s an example:
Bill: (walks in the door and sighs, tossing his briefcase to the ground, saying nothing. He lets
the sigh communicate the fact that he is weary. He nods his head at Susan).
Susan: You’re late.
Bill: (Just looks at Susan. Then after a beat says) What’s for dinner?
Susan: Train this time? Or… drinks with the secretary?
Bill: So, that means lasagna?
Notice that neither of them spoke directly to the other. Instead, they both insisted on what they wanted instead of responding to the want of the other person.
People talk in ways that reflect their wants or agenda. Bill refuses to answer and asks about dinner instead of responding to the question. It’s both because he’s hungry but also because he wants to skip any direct conflict with Susan. Susan, on the other hand, wants to start a fight and accuse Bill of sleeping with his secretary. Neither actually really responds directly to what the other said, right? Instead, their responses to each other communicate what they want.
So, that’s tip number Seven: in Good Dialogue, People Often Shouldn’t Directly Respond To What Was Said to Them
Notice that each person in the above example (because of their wants or desires) does not actually ever reply directly to what the other person says. That’s often how people really talk in real life. They pretend they didn’t hear the other person and just go on pushing their “agenda” in a way that is an indirect reply. That is, people’s replies are sometimes a kind of communication which is both a response to what the person said but is also really more about them trying to steer a conversation to their wants.
What people generally want is to have some power or respect in any situation they are in. No one wants to feel powerless or disrespected because it denies them the feeling they are worthwhile. Everyone wants to maintain their own “integrity” and self-respect. Maybe they want sympathy, maybe they want kindness, maybe they want respect. Without those things they’d feel useless or they’d feel like dying because why live in a world that won’t allow you any value?
Tweedle-Dee: You want pizza tonight?
Tweedle-Dum: You always want pizza.
Dee: Who doesn’t like pizza?
Dum: Why don’t you ever listen?
Dee:
Dum: Alright, pizza’s fine.
Here, Dum obviously feels powerless. He isn’t getting what he wants (the power to choose what to eat). But there’s also something deeper than that. Maybe he is resentful because he thinks it is a pattern that Dee has more power than him. Dum is not getting respect. He feels he has lost some of his own self-respect as well for not standing up for himself, too. Ouch!
Now, we could ask: why doesn’t Dum just say “No. I want sushi instead.” That would be a direct response to the first question by Dee. It would be a mature response. But there is clearly something more emotionally important to him: proving that his brother’s past actions have hurt him. He won’t say it, but it’s clear to an astute reader who can infer it or “read between the lines”.
In fact, Dum decides to let his brother have his way in the end. Why? Maybe it’s so he can keep the power of his indignity. If he did get what he wanted, the sushi, then he would win the battle but lose the war that is the brotherly competition which he clearly feels is at the heart of their relationship.
Meanwhile, Dee, if he knows how his brother feels, could have said at the start, “What do you want to eat tonight?” But he really wants pizza; perhaps he also likes the fact that he indeed does get what he wants over his brother more often than not. When accused of not listening he doesn’t deny it. So he uses a fallacy (or flaw in logic or rhetoric). He appeals to “the crowd” and basically says (in the form of a question) that, since everyone likes pizza, Dum should clearly want pizza at that moment. Bottom line, Dee wants pizza and he’ll shame his brother (put him outside the majority of people) to get it.
So… If you want realistic dialogue, try having your characters “talk past” each other, like ships passing each other in the night. If they do respond to each other, make sure that there is something they say on the surface but also some extra connotation that they are implying below the surface. It’s not easy to do, and may take some practice, but that’s ok-- you’re a student. Keep reading and practicing and you’ll get there.
Tip #3 - Part two: Use Slang and Other Voices to Create Unique and Memorable Characters
When the teacher in the first example says that the student was “dogging on” the Shakespeare, they sound real. Each character in a story will choose language appropriate to their wants and desires and purpose and the environment they’ve grown up in. They’ll also choose their words based on who they think their audience is.
When the teacher wants to model a good educated way to talk in order to teach students that style of discourse, they may force themselves to speak in complete sentences. Other times, they may use some slang to remind the kids that they are human, that they are maybe cooler than the kids think, and that they have a sense of humor and are trying to make the class an interesting place to learn. They want respect. One little bit of dialogue can reveal a lot if you think about it.
CAPTURE EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTERS
8. Throw in a ‘Gusher’
People often start out polite or hesitant, then their words gush out when they finally figure out what they want to say. It often takes humans a moment for their brains to realize what they feel and think, then they finally catch up and find the words for it. Here’s an example of a girl talking to a boy about going to a dance:
“Hi, Tom. I want… I wanted to ask you-- do you want to… the dance is tomorrow. Are you going? Should we… Maybe we can go together?”
“Uh, sure… I just… well, it’s…I guess I can.”
“I’m happy to hear, happy to hear you say that.” She adjusted her bookbag strap.
Tom met her eyes instead. “Um. Ok. Actually, wait. The truth is, Sally… I don’t want to go to the dance. I mean, I’ll go. But…not with you. Because honestly-- that time you dumped lasagna on me. Then you, you called me…names. Crybaby, you said. I’ll never forget it. That’s the meanest. No one ever said that before. It was mean.”
At first Tom wants to be known as kind and approachable. He agrees. Then, his mind catches up with how he feels and he realizes something… it all pours out and he stops stammering and tells her directly how he really feels. Good dialogue is able to capture this fact about how humans think and talk.
9. Have a Truth-Teller Who Starts Polite and Then Gives Up and Tells It Like It Is
In the above example, see how the person tries to not hurt Sally’s feelings but then they finally just decide to “go for broke” and tell the truth? This is a great way to write dialogue. People start polite and then, often at one moment, just decide to stop holding back how they really feel.
Here’s an example: one of my favorite movies is the masterpiece called Syriana. It’s about American abuse of power and politics and oil in the Middle East. At one point, a financial advisor (played by Matt Damon) is talking with a powerful Sheik (an Arab prince) about what the Sheik should do. He tries to be polite even though his child has recently died by accident at one of the shiek’s fancy parties. Finally, the Sheik insults him enough to “goad” him. In a torrent of words, the Advisor suddenly bursts out with what he really thinks. (The dialogue below is paraphrased from memory, but the essence is about the gusher).
Sheik: I can give you twenty thousand dollars for your advice.
Advisor: And how much for my other child?
Sheik: So, do you accept the position I’m offering you? You man enough to take my money?
Advisor: Ok, sure.
Sheik: That’s what I thought.
Advisor: Right. You’re in charge.
Sheik: Well, ok.
Advisor: Yeah, but…what do you need a financial advisor for? The truth is, twenty years ago your nation had the highest Gross National Product in the world, now you’re tied with Albania. Good job. Your second largest export beyond oil --which is running out-- is secondhand goods, closely followed by dates, which you’re losing five cents a pound on. You know what the business community thinks of you? They think that a hundred years ago you were living in tents out here in the desert chopping each other’s heads off and that’s where you’ll be in another hundred years. So, yes, on behalf of my firm I accept your money.
Now, that scene is the epitome of the ‘gusher’, a moment when people stop being polite and lay their cards out on the table. After all, no one can stand obsequence and humiliation forever. At some point, demanding their dignity becomes a nearly life-and-death situation, where we’d rather die than face more shameful pantomimes.
ALMOST NEVER HAVE A CHARACTER STATE THEIR FEELINGS DIRECTLY
10. On the other hand, obsequience is normally the rule. Most of the time (unless they gush) people never confess their feelings directly. Never have a character say, “Let me tell you how I feel. I just have to confess that…” That would be too vulnerable and also sounds like a writer who wants to make their character confess something. No one ever says, “I’ve decided to just be honest,” like they were writing an essay. People don’t tell you what they are going to say, they just say it. At most, they may say, “Um, honestly…”
Instead, most of the time they dance around what they feel while hoping to not have to say it. We are all taught to be polite and hide our true feelings, especially when that might hurt someone or rob us of the social advantage of not revealing our wants. To say things directly is to risk rejection or shame for wanting something. Most people either can’t face their own feelings or they don’t want to hurt someone else’s feelings.
That’s just the way people talk, and that is the way your characters should talk too.
11. Play with verb tense and storytelling. People often start telling a story about something that happened in the past and then change up and start talking about it as if it were happening right then and there. Example: “So I was in the mall yesterday. So I see Mr. Kevin there and he’s buying a taco! Beef! And I’m all, Mr Kevin, I thought you didn’t eat meat?! He’s giving me a funny look. Ok, so, now I’m getting an A in his class. But I gotta keep quiet about it. Don’t tell anyone. I’m only telling you. And Tom. And Ralph. And Jessica. But that’s it.“
12. Play With Accents and Strange Ways of Talking
Again, a character shouldn’t sound like an essay. In real life people talk funny. They use abbreviations, shorten words, and have accents. People from Beijing have that hard “arrrr” at the end of their word pronunciation, right? They become real people when they have a little bit of a regional marker in their speech.
Now, too much accent in dialogue makes it too hard to read or sounds corny. A little goes a long way. Here’s a mangled example of a French person speaking English. The spelling is phonetic: “Ze body was found in ze woods zis morning. ’Ow did zat ’appen? Ze area was checked only yesterday. Sumsing iz wrong ’ere.”
That’s too much. It’s hard to read and it makes the character sound like a cartoon. If you want to mock the French, I guess you could do it, but it might get tiring. A little goes a long way
Still, if you want interesting, unique characters, have them say a few things a little differently than the educated “white” talk of most schoolbooks.
Example: “Yer gonna have a problem there, fella.” You can learn a lot about a character through little bits of accent here and there in your dialogue, so have at least one person in your story have a little bit of an accent if you can. It might suggest something about their economic status, their place of birth, their environment, or the fact that they don’t care if they sound a little different. Again, the way they talk will reveal who they are and what they really want.
If you write dialogue and give a bit of an accent to people, your readers will thank you because they will learn more about the characters that way.
So, now… armed with these tips, go forth and write something with zing, with zip, with wit, with music! Offer the world something that will give readers an experience they’ll never forget. Because, if you don’t, it’s just more forgettable verbiage that will get tossed into the ever-expanding rubbish-dump of human expression.
You know… just like my Substack writing!!
NO MATTER WHAT… IT’S STORYTELLING, SO IGNORE MY ADICE AND DO IT YOUR WAY.
You’ll communicate your unique point of view, perhaps sarcastic perhaps sincere, no matter what. So just go with the flow and get what you got going. What else is there but the fevered moment of creation? Nothing else matters. Certainly, that’s true since you’ll never make money as a writer either, just like me. So enjoy the journey because you’re not going to reach the destination of fame and forture you imagine in this lifetime unless you’re the most lucky tenth of a tenth of a percent of writers in the world.
But if you DO make it to the top like George Sanders or Sanderson, be sure to cite me Mr. Salveson as an inspiration and eternal font of wisdom that helped you be the writer you are today, because I need all the help I can get trying to pay my mortgage! Thanks, and best of luck going forward.
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