The three biggest tools in a writer’s box of crafts are through-line, point of view, and training ourselves to show our story in action rather than telling it at a remove. One of the easiest ways to bring your reader up close to your story is to show your characters talking to each other. Readers feel as if they are right there in the conversation themselves.
Renoir’s Bal du Moulin de la Galette, 1876
So, how do we write dialogue, edit it, present it, use it best? Let’s start at the beginning, with how we lay it out.
Choose a couple of characters; they can be your own, from somebody else’s novel or just make them up for today, it doesn’t matter. Call them by the initials of their first names (such as A and B) and scribble lightly, fast an exchange they might have on a Sunday morning.
Don’t sweat too much about what they’re saying, though if you’re on a roll and produce something useful for your draft, that’s great. What we’re concerned with today is how we lay those words out.
Each publisher has its own house style and will expect you to have had a close look at theirs before you submit your draft to them. This will, I’m afraid, take time and care. Consistency and an eye for detail are everything.
Practices differ around the world but the same questions arise everywhere. Let’s start with the most usual UK practice (only because it’s where I live) and notice the sort of wrinkles and subtleties that come up.
In the UK, our characters’ spoken words are usually surrounded by single inverted commas or quotations marks:
‘How do I lay this table?’ he asked.
Elsewhere in the world it can be double quotation marks, or none at all, just a dash to lead in the spoken words.
If your character is quoting something within a spoken sentence, we in the UK use double quotes for that:
‘You’re useless. Your mother said the self-same thing on the phone yesterday. “He’s useless,” she said. Those were her very words.’
All punctuation belonging to the spoken words comes inside the quotation marks, nice and cosy.
‘When’s she coming? Did you say – I heard you say, didn’t I? – she’s coming at two?’
And try not to forget the closing quotation mark, it’s easily done.
If there’s an attribution like ‘he said’ or ‘she said’ after the spoken words, then a comma comes after the spoken words, inside the final inverted comma, and ‘he said’ comes in lower case as part of the same sentence:
‘I really wish we could just run away, now,’ he said.
Even if what he said was a full sentence, as above.
If you’ve got an attribution other than ‘he/she said’, it’s the same:
‘Well, I never invited her!’ she shouted.
If the attribution (‘he/she said’) starts with someone’s name, then the capital letter is used, as usual.
‘I know, darling. Calm down,’ Paul said.
And when the character keeps speaking after that attribution, you can keep going with a capital or lower case letter, depending on whether the speech is a new sentence or not:
‘You used to love me,’ Alison cried. ‘At least I thought so, until now …’
As above, if there is a new sentence to come, then the attribution ends with a full stop. We know that the new piece of speech (beginning ‘At least I thought so …) is Alison’s because it’s on the same line as her previous words.
(If Alison had run this into a single sentence, it would look like this:
‘You used to love me,’ Alison cried, ‘or I thought so, until now …’)
Paul took her hand in his and said, ‘Why do you doubt me, darling, when I’ve given you all this?’ Which could equally be written:
Paul took her hand in his and said:
‘Why do you doubt me, darling’ etc.
Again, if Alison continues her sentence after her attribution, the first comma is inside the quotation marks and her new speech starts lower case, as it would if the attribution wasn’t there.
‘You make me sick,’ she sobbed, drawing her hand away, ‘especially when you think you can get around me like this.’
If the attribution comes before the spoken words, then it ends with a comma and the spoken sentence starts with the capital it would have if it were standing on its own:
Paul shouted, ‘My mother’s due any minute and I don’t want to see her any more than you do but we’ve got no choice. Now clean yourself up and get into that kitchen!’
‘Don’t you yell at me like that!’
Yes, quite often you don’t have to tell the reader who is speaking. In fact, if your character’s voice is right, the reader will know just from verbal inflections, accent and personality who is saying what. You can also indicate who is speaking by putting a character’s actions in the same line:
‘I’m not yelling at you.’ Paul pulled his sweater down and looked out of the window. He saw two pigeons fussing together on the lower branches of his monkey puzzle tree. A stab of envy of their simple joy ate into his heart. ‘I would never yell at you, my sweet, I’ve loved you all my life.’
If you have a brief bit of description interrupting someone’s spoken words, you can put it inside dashes outside the quotation marks like this:
‘You haven’t known me all your life’ – a car horn blared outside on the gravel – ‘and you know precious little about me now. I do have a choice actually, and I’m making it. I’m off!’
Indents, or a new paragraph, make it clear that there’s a change of speaker:
‘Please don’t go, darling, not now.’
‘Not when I’m supposed to be cooking, you mean?’
‘I mean not when we’ve been happy for so long!’
‘You call this happy?’
‘But how could I cope without you?’
Whether you use indents or paragraphs for speech is a matter of house style and your publisher will tell you what they want.
If someone is indulging in a monologue that goes on for more than one paragraph, each subsequent paragraph of the speech opens with an inverted comma although the previous one remains open. This is where it can be especially easy to forget to close your final speech marks and the reader thinks that your next piece of description is being said:
Paul ignored a prolonged honk from the car on the gravel outside and took a bottle from the fridge. He filled two glasses with ice and covered the cubes with dark rum. ‘Well, my darling, I’ll miss you.’ He handed one glass to Alison. ‘I remember the first time I caught sight of you, during lectures in the first year, with your hair in plaits and those yellow cycle clips over your brown jeans, and I thought, that’s the prettiest girl I’ll ever see in my life.
‘I was right too. I’ve never wanted anybody else, Alison. Never even fancied anyone else. But if you want to go, I can’t stop you. I’ll always have Mother … and rum.’
He lifted his glass in salute as Alison downed hers and slammed the door behind her without another word.
Have a look at a wide selection of the books around you, comparing the different ways publishers do it. As always, have fun, and remember the times when conversation can be silent.
Klimt’s The Kiss, 1907/8
Happy writing. More about dialogue next week!