Punch up your dialogue.
People keep asking me:
your dialogue is like being poked in the eye with a sharp stick, how do you do
it? Shut up I say–shut up and talk.
Normally they just walk away, I used to think it was my
looks, but then I realized what a stupid idea that was I am devilishly
handsome. If those poor saps had stuck
around I would have given them the dope–no charge. They would have learned that those four
words, shut-up-and-talk, are the secret to dialogue–not just good dialogue,
but great dialogue. There are a couple
of doo-dads that you can stick on here and there to gussy it up a bit, but if
writers would just shut up, their dialogue would be a hundred times better.
Look it, if you and I were sitting across the table from
each other, aside from the fact that you’d find yourself making moon-eyes at me
so enthralled you’d be at my rakish physique, you would also be doing a hell of
a lot of listening. You would make a lot
of gestures with your head—mostly you’d bob your head in agreement—you would
smile, you would bat your eyes, but you sure as hell wouldn’t sit there waiting
for your next line. Most of you are
living under the false assumption that dialogue is a give and take; truth is,
it’s more take than give, but then that is true for most things.
Time we take a looky at an example. First I’ll try and show you some poorly
written dialogue, could be rough going ‘cause I’m not used to writing bad
dialogue. Most of you already know that
I’ve spent most of my life as a blisterfoot; first in the U.S. Army, and later
as a member of
I’ll use an example from real life. Here
is how a conversation between a uniform and a con would not go.
“I say, my good man,
could I trouble you for a moment of your time?” said the officer.“Most assuredly my dear sir.” said the evildoer.
“Well,” said the officer, “I hesitate to hinder you only you
seem to have spat, and we do have ordinances against such things.”“I see, shall we engage in fisticuffs?” said the evildoer.
“I am no pugilist, I rather think that I shall have my
associate clout you and see you down town.” said the officer.
Bad! Nothing happens,
just a lot of talking back and forth, and to top it off they both seem to be
the same person, the cop might just as well be talking to himself in the mirror—believe
me I know a few who do just that.
This is a primo example of talking head syndrome, and it’s
easy to fix if you keep in mind those four little words: shut-up-and-talk.
“Hey!” said the cop as he pounded down the skids after the
rat-turd who spat on his wing tips. As
they rounded the corner, the cop sprang on the punk’s shoulders, and slammed
him to the sidewalk. They rolled into
the gutter, the little bastard spinning like a dreidel. The cop hopped up and put his knee against
the kid’s neck. “You made me scuff my
shoes! I ought to Jap slap you and haul
you in.”
There, that’s much better. Why? Something happens and the
cop does all the talking, but the kid does some talking of his own—he speaks
volumes through his actions.
I hope this helps.