How to Write Good Dialogue

I edit and do manuscript assessments for a living. I also coach a couple of young creative writers on the side, in a voluntary capacity. Creative writing is not my thing; I know that and they know that. I have only ever written short (and very short) stories. I am not particularly good at coming up with interesting plots. I can think of cool characters and I can write beautifully detailed descriptions. But an interesting plot? Not my forte.

I know just enough about the elements of fiction and creative nonfiction to be dangerous:

• Plot (conflict, rising action, climax, falling action, resolution)

• Theme (the point of the story)

• Characters

• Setting

• Description

• Dialogue

Some creative writers have the coolest ideas for plots. And awesome characters. But two of these elements often take a hit: description and dialogue. At the start of 2019, I wrote two blog articles about using descriptive language, Writing Sensory Description Part 1 and Part 2. I reminded writers to help their readers not just see but also hear, taste, smell, and touch their surroundings, as well.

Idol Chitchat, The Devil’s Playground

Lately, my novice writers have presented me with drafts of romance and murder mystery manuscripts. And, consistently, the weakest element has been their dialogue. Idol chitchat. Small talk. Pointless prattling. The dialogue serves no discernible purpose—and it must.

So, let’s have a dialogue about…dialogue.

Make It Matter

Fight the urge to write dialogue that is nothing more than a mundane exchange. As I said, I often read boring conversations in manuscripts I’m editing or critiquing. I’ve never asked a writer why they’ve written dialogue like this:

I saw him walking toward me. “Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” he replied. “How are you?”

“Good,” I answered. “How about you?”

“I’m OK,” he said. “Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing much. Just hanging out,” I replied. “You?”

“Same.”

Ugh. I have my own theory as to why people write dialogue this pointless. I think it’s an attempt, consciously or subconsciously, to present authentic or realistic conversation. But, really, I’m guessing. I mean, I know people have pointless exchanges like this in real life. At least, I know I do. But just because people do speak this way, it does not mean you should create this kind of dialogue in your prose.

(In memoir, I think people include dialogue like this because this is what was said. It’s real. But every verbal exchange does not need to be recounted 100% accurately, especially if it results in dialogue like this.)

Every element of creative writing serves a specific purpose. Getting most of them right will not make a great book. The best books nail all the elements. A great storyline will be derailed by one-dimensional characters whose presence you don’t understand, flat dialogue that doesn’t make sense, or a lack of setting that would help you envision and feel a part of every scene.

The Four Functions of Dialogue

So, back to dialogue. Here is the simple truth. Properly written dialogue performs four functions:

1. Provides information

2. Exposes emotion

3. Advances the plot

4. Reveals something about a character

Some lists I've seen include up to ten functions, but these are the Big Four. If you have written dialogue that you cannot, in all honesty, say performs at least one of these functions, toss it. My business motto is “Every word of every sentence matters.” This includes dialogue—it must be there for a good reason.

Dialogue never exists for its own purpose.

Dialogue as Narrative

Dialogue is a form of narrative conveyed as speech between two or more characters. Narrative is an account of what’s happening in a story. Narrative is used to set the scene, describe the surroundings, give insight into a character, throw in a plot twist, present foreshadowing, and so on. All of this can be accomplished through dialogue, too.

It Don’t Have to Be Right (Wink, Wink)

Dialogue does not have to be grammatically correct. It can and should read like actual speech. The “Whatcha doing?” from my example above is perfectly OK. That adds a touch of casualness, which, if the dialogue was vital and well constructed, would add realism. If you have created a character (or, in memoir, a person from your life) who has an accent or a peculiar speech pattern, breaking grammar rules to bring that character alive is acceptable. Beware though—handling vernacular well is trickier than it seems. You might end up with a one-dimensional stereotype.

Dialogue should be written to give readers details about a character in more clever and intriguing ways. Well-written dialogue can be used to describe appearance, race, gender, ethnicity, and even offer a glimpse into morality and ethics.

Just For Fun

Narrative, then dialogue as narrative.

He walked into the room. I was shocked to see his clothes were tattered, and he was thin and filthy.

Or…

He walked into the room and I stammered, “You sure have hit on hard times. How long has it been since the money I gave you ran out?”

He grimaced. “I’m keepin’ my shoes together with rubber bands and Elmer’s Glue. A rope’s holdin’ my pants up. I cain’t remember the last time I used soap. That’s how long.”

Writing About Trauma: What Memoir Is and Isn’t

I have done a deep dive into memoir for the past couple of years. As a freelance editor, I chose memoir, a subcategory of creative nonfiction, as my niche specialty because I was enthralled by the idea of helping people tell fascinating stories from their lives that would inform and inspire.

As an editor, once I get past explaining the difference between memoir and autobiography—autobiography is a story of a life; memoir is a story from a life—my experience has been that prospective memoir writers ask a variety of questions that largely fall into two categories:

1. Getting sued: Can I get sued for talking badly about someone, even if it’s true?

2. Writing about trauma: I have experienced a lot of pain/trauma/abuse. How much detail should I go into?

Regarding the legal liability associated with writing a memoir, let me refer you to a blog post of mine, Memoir and Law: Understanding Defamation and Invasion of Privacy. I wrote this article because worries about libel and other legal matters seem to dominate the conversations in memoir writing groups. I’m not going to elaborate on this subject any further here. Just check out the blog post.

The second topic, addressing trauma and pain, is brought up often, as well. Since I have never written about this, that’s what this article focuses on.

Understand the Purpose of Memoir

Let’s start by defining what a memoir is, to get a true understanding of its purpose. Using the words of author and memoir-expert Marion Roach Smith.

Memoir is not about what you did.

Memoir is about what you did with it.

Take a minute or two to think about these statements because understanding the distinction is key to knowing when the time is right for you to write a memoir.

Here is another of Roach Smith’s teachings that I’ve quoted before.

A memoir is a story about something you know after something you’ve been through.

A writer’s ability to comprehend this description is vital to produce a memoir about a person readers will come to empathize with and root for—you.

Memoir Is Not a Bummer Genre

A criticism often slapped onto memoir is that it is a trauma-based genre, all about pain, heartache, abuse, disappointment, failure, bad judgment, and missed opportunities. And, sadly, the book market is chock full of memoirs that bear out that criticism. Those winners of the Trauma Olympics give the genre a bad name and frighten many readers away.

Folks, the fact is, great memoir is more than the documentation of traumatic experiences. Period. If that’s all you’ve got—"Something terrible happened to me and I want to write about it”—you are not ready to author a memoir. Please hear me out.

Here are what a few memoir authors and editors have to say:

[A memoir] must be about something of universal interest that this person [the subject of the memoir] illustrates. ~~Marion Roach Smith

[Memoir] works when there is distance between what you experienced and your self-understanding, which is more important than simply recalling the experiences. ~~Dena Taylor, May 2014, shewritespress.

The now perspective is what makes memoir different from fiction; you explain how the story shaped you by weaving together the then and now. ~~Cindi Michael, December 2016, Writer’s Digest. (I talked about the importance of having a now in your memoir in my guest blog post for The Cheerful Word, Most Common Memoir Writing Mistakes.)

Memoir is about transcendence. You have learned from your experience and you are sharing what you learned. ~~Marion Roach Smith (Yes, again. She’s the queen.)

How Much Is Too Much?

This is the question. Some budding memoirists seem to think that they must drag readers through every second of whatever horrible experiences they have endured. They ask, “How can the reader possibly understand what I’ve been through if I don’t spell it out in explicit detail?” Well, give the readers some credit; skillful writing can transfer a plethora of detail subtly. Strive for intimation not information. Sentences that hint at and insinuate trauma can be more powerful and haunting than those that bludgeon our sensibilities.

And, here again, remember, the purpose is not to document your trauma, but to share the healing and insight you have arrived at.

I Have Nothing but Pain

Memoir writing is not therapy. A memoir is not a therapeutic journal. Simply re-living painful events in your life and calling it a memoir is not helpful to you nor is it a source of comfort or inspiration to a reader. Immersing yourself and the reader in the awful details of a traumatic event does not make for good reading, especially if there is no “But here’s what I learned and how I have transcended this experience” moment.

Think of it this way—you are the main character of your story. A novel that ends with the main character failing to have an “a-ha” moment, not developing courage and self-awareness, and never making something good come from something bad would be a pretty shitty novel.

What Else Can I Do?

A memoir is not how you work through trauma. But writing about trauma is an excellent way to get it in perspective and begin to move forward. If you are still grappling with a painful event, still in the grips of the hurt and confusion of it, work through your feelings by journaling, writing a series of personal essays, or starting a personal blog.

When you get to a point of self-realization and self-esteem—and you will—turn that insight into a memoir that serves as an inspiration to others.

In addition to working as a nonfiction and creative nonfiction editor and writing coach, I am co-author, with Dr. Terri Lyon, of the book Make a Difference with Mental Health Activism: No activism degree required—use your unique skills to change the world. Visit my website page Make a Difference and Dr. Lyon’s activism website Life At The Intersection to learn more about Make a Difference, including how to place bulk orders.

Overwriting, the Death of Clarity

Since the start of 2020 I have been working as a contract editor and manuscript assessor for a memoir publisher in North Carolina. Besides loving the steady work and its associated income, I have worked on an amazing variety of memoirs: a man recalling one day on the lake fishing with his dad; a pioneer in women’s liberation and feminist psychotherapy reviewing her career; an adult victim of child abuse recounting the fear and pain he and his two brothers endured and where each is now; and the story of the only Jewish family in a small rural North Carolina town in the 1940s.

My eyes have been opened to the diversity and richness of the lives of those around us; a reminder that you never know what someone has been through simply by looking at them. And an understanding that how well or how poorly someone is doing in life is often the result of circumstances beyond their control.

I suppose I already knew this through my work with the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI). I am reminded almost daily to not be judgmental of the behavior of a cashier in the supermarket, the saleswoman at a department store, the glum bank teller, or someone in an elevator who is distance and aloof. I don’t know them, their work situation, or what happened to them at home last night or this morning. I just know that life isn’t always a bed of roses. There are families full of love, support, and good memories. And others full of pain, heartache, and regret. Or all of the above.

So, what does any of this have to do with Strike The Write Tone? Or my blog articles that I use to offer advice for writers? Not a damn thing. It’s just what was on my mind as I sat down to blog after a long absence. Let me try to offer editing guidance. Hmm, let me see.

Well, I posted on my Facebook business page at the end of 2019 that my word for 2020 is “Simplicity. No matter your genre, keep your writing as straightforward and to-the-point as possible. Write to communicate, not to impress. Keep it simple.” I also shared this quote.

I had just done a couple of manuscript assessments for newbie writers and this was heavy on my mind. I can recall during my college days, trying to sound as sophisticated and academic as possible when writing an essay or research paper. Everyday words and straightforward sentences were for life outside the classroom. I spent a lot of precious time perusing Roget’s Thesaurus for multi-syllabic versions of commonplace words and fashioning exquisite run-on sentences. When, if read aloud, my paper sounded like something an Oxford don would say, I knew I had succeeded. Sadly, my good grades reinforced this misguided belief.

The finest manuscripts I have edited and assessed this year are those that clearly and humanly register in my brain and my heart. This is not to say that a writer shouldn’t strive to create beauty with their words. I’m not advocating zero description or flat, colorless passages. But I have read some gloriously simple sentences that brought tears to my eyes; tears of sadness and tears of joy. I would love to share one or two, but I cannot. Yet. Let’s get the writers published, then I will.

What I’m talking about is known as overwriting.

Overwriting is a wordy writing style characterized by excessive detail, needless repetition, overwrought figures of speech, and/or convoluted sentence structures. (Thank you, Richard Nordquist).

Overwriting is the hallmark of a writer who is 1) untested, 2) untalented, 3) unedited, 4) egotistical, or 5) some combination of these. If you find yourself laboring and straining to construct a sentence, you might be overwriting.

OK, I know what you’re thinking—I’m saying writing should always be easy and effortless and flow out of you like water from a garden hose. No. That is not what I’m saying.

The truth is, writing is hard.

But not the kind of hard that has you re-working a run-on sentence for an hour trying to select the three most perfect adjectives to describe a cloud. In fact, writing is at its hardest when you are trying to convey an elemental thought or image. Simple beauty in a single sentence is more difficult to achieve than pages upon pages of overwrought passages. Keep it simple. I'll leave you with this:

A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts.

~William Strunk and E.B. White, The Elements of Style

In addition to working as a nonfiction and creative nonfiction editor and writing coach, I am co-author, with Dr. Terri Lyon, of the book Make a Difference with Mental Health Activism: No activism degree required—use your unique skills to change the world. Visit my website page Make a Difference and Dr. Lyon’s activism website Life At The Intersection to learn more about Make a Difference, including how to place bulk orders.