Creative Writing

Dialogue: the Secret Ingredient to Every Good Story

Evie Cooper

In my mind, dialogue is the marmite of the writer’s cupboard. You either love it or you hate it. Personally, I’m a dialogue lover and a marmite hater, but let’s not get into that. So why do I spend a good 80% of my time – perhaps better spent actually writing – contorting my face into different expressions or repeating the same phrase in innumerable tones or accents, followed by scouring the internet for hours just to find the perfect word to sum it all up? Obviously because I believe dialogue is the absolute vital essence you need to make your readers sob, block you on social media and vow to curse your name for the rest of their lives (they come around eventually). But seriously, for those that despise writing dialogue and find it always turns out clunky or unnatural, here are some ways I get around that – I’ve broken it down into who, what and why so it’s easier to remember:

Who said that? Me, duh.

Before you can establish your characters’ voices, make a note of anything that could influence the way they speak and interact with others. For example: where they were born/grew up, if they have siblings, and their level of self-esteem – and no, that doesn’t mean make the protagonist stutter for 15 excruciating paragraphs. With these points in mind, you can begin to shape your characters and let their personalities run rife through their words, thus hopefully endearing them to your readers, or perhaps at times repulsing them. For all you visual learners, maybe this will make more sense:

“I’m not going to school today.”

“I’m gonna skive.”

While both statements are essentially saying the same thing, the verb ‘skive’ in the second example is British slang, hinting at that character’s background – by using colloquial language, it also gives a more informal, relaxed impression of them. Think about what it is about the character you want the reader to acknowledge and choose your vocabulary based on that. (By the way, this is not your incentive to skip school, please don’t.)

Whatcha say? (not Jason Derulo’s version)

Another thing to be mindful of is dialogue tags. You may have heard of dos and don’ts like ‘don’t overuse said’ but at the same time ‘don’t underuse said’ which, to be quite frank, leaves you none the wiser about how to use them. At the end of the day, there’s no law against what’s most appropriate, so the best advice I can give is keep it varied. Sometimes ‘said’ just doesn’t convey the tone you’re going for, while other times an eyebrow raise speaks much louder than ‘shouted’ ever could. Mix up positions of tags with description of body language to create more realistic conversations, and remember, people often interrupt and overlap each other. Take a moment to listen to the way people talk –but try not to make it obvious or they might think you’re earwigging – and draw inspiration from real life chit-chat.

Why are you still talking? Gosh, some people.

The last thing to consider is the reason your character is talking in the first place. If you’re anything like me, you might prefer to dialogue your way through most situations, but that has its downfalls as well. I once read a piece of advice that said something along the lines of: ‘every sentence should establish character, setting or move the story along’ – and while this is a good method to ensure what you’re writing isn’t empty, for new writers I’m sure it can feel overwhelming. As long as you take into account the purpose of your dialogue, whether it be to foreshadow an event, reveal some important information or help build character, you can’t go too far wrong.

So once you go away, process the waffle I’ve just piled on you and somehow put all of it together, I promise it will actually make for some really engaging conversations. Dare I say, you may even start to enjoy scrawling out reams of dialogue. Happy writing!

The Five Realms Anonymous

You see, thousands of years ago, a place like no other was formed in the galaxy, millions of miles away from any other planet. Formed only by dust and the particles the planets emit, a new world was created. A sphere of blue and gold and every colour you could imagine, all sucked into this hole made of darkness. If you touch the sphere, even the tiniest bit, you will be sucked inside to see this wonderful world unlike any place you've ever seen before – a place with no boundaries, no rules – a place where there were five different species of people, together forming five tribes in the place I call home... The Five Realms. It was a place of peace, of wonder, where everyone could be free, no judgement, no prejudice: everyone was happy in a safe sanctuary. Until our only ruler died, and everything changed. He changed everything. Tried to make others known of our superior power, only to make everyone go into war against each other. All the tribes at war, for all eternity. All thanks to our new king... Harold Bloodbrook.

I was said to be born from a prayer. For everything to be how it used to be. A prayer from a desperate woman for Harold to be dead. I'd been told her wish had reached the smokefilled skies with the sparks of the raging fires, the hope in her and everyone's heart that change would come, and the souls of the skilled dead tribe soldiers had all floated up to the clouds and had come together to form a girl to answer the prayer... Me. I fell at rapid speed, leaving the peaceful heaven of the clouds behind to enter what was now a living hell. The woman gasped, stumbling back as I continued to fall. I landed on the ground and sent shockwaves covering the world and making everyone on the battlefield turn to look at me. I returned the gaze, looking at my surroundings, then set my eyes on the woman. The wind whistled to her and me, telling us the same thing.

"This woman's prayer has created a fine female warrior." It spoke. "You shall be known as...“ “Maia Firestone, the chosen one, our Saviour.”

The woman took care of me and raised me as she grew older, as did I, but we both remained looking young and beautiful. She always hid her face apart from her primrose pink eyes, but word spread throughout the five tribes that we were some of the prettiest people in The Five Realms. Flattering really, but beauty doesn't matter on the battlefield. Her name was Lara Hal. She left her surname behind and changed it to mine: Firestone. (continued on the next page)

Lara became my mother, us taking care of each other. But then battle grew worse. "Maia, you need to leave know!" I remember her shouting at me. "Escape through the dark hole." "But Mum - " I began. A sword flew at her. I screamed. Went to grab the hilt. But the speed of the sword was faster. I watched in horror as it soared past my hand as Lara flew up.

She was too slow. I rushed over, panting in fear. I immediately searched for fabric; Lara signalled for me to rip the fabric covering her face off. I obeyed. I saw her beautiful, stained ash black hair and her skin like snow among her cherry red plump lips. Apologizing as I pulled out the sword to my mother's yell, I pressed the fabric to the wound. "Lara, stay with me," I frantically yelled, slapping her albino skin hard as she closed her eyes. "Maia," she whispered. "You are the strongest person I've ever met. But you have to bide your time. Leave here. You will defeat Harold later." Lara grabbed my hand, clasped it in hers. "I promise you, you will have your revenge. Justice will walk this land again thanks to you. As long as you leave. Don't take me. Sweetheart, I love you, but I tried to keep you safe. Now look where we are, eh?“ She laughed but stopped when she winced. I said I couldn't as tears rolled down my cheeks, but it was her turn to slap me. Despite Lara's pain her hit hurt. I nodded; told her I'd see her on the other side. I kissed her forehead and brushed her hair.

"I love you Mum," I breathed, holding her close.

"I know, Maia...I did create you, after all." I laughed despite everything. "Yeah, thanks for that." I said as Lara laughed and breathed out her last breath. I shut those beautiful primrose eyes of hers and let my tear fall on her wound like the sugar and salt of

love.

"I'm sorry, Mother," I said as I noticed a black glow out of the corner of my eye.

"I will avenge you." I looked to the glow, saw the sword that had killed my mother. I walked over, my shoes squelching on the red ground and picked it up. The glow shot into the sky. I glanced in front of me.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, Harold,” I announced, my voice steady. “You’ll get what’s coming to you...but Mum’s right. I’ll bide my time. Let you think you’re safe. Then I’ll hit you with all I’ve got: for justice...and for Mum.” I walked straight ahead confidently, tears streaming down my face, unfazed by battle, my only thoughts getting out, Harold, and my Mum. But I daren’t look back. The past can’t be changed.

I flew into the sky, letting the tears flow freely like waterfalls, higher and higher until I could barely breathe until I saw the black hole in the sky. The way out. Every muscle screamed out in pain, my lungs about to explode. I reached out as far as I could, my fingertip just brushing the surface.... After that was a blur.

When I opened my eyes, I was in a forest as the sun rose through the trees. Birds tweeted and I knew where I was. Hello, Earth.