Writing

  • How to make your dialogue shine

    Give your fictional conversations a glow-up with these tips for talking on the page.

    We talk to other humans all day, every day, so why is it so hard to write realistic conversations between fictional people?

    Probably because effective written dialogue has very little in common with the kind of chats we have in the real world.

    In real life, we make polite small talk, fail to finish our sentences, go on meandering side quests, stumble and stutter and um and ah. It’s how we make each other feel comfortable, but if you tried to replicate it on the page it would be so tedious your reader would very quickly find something (anything) else to do.

    Instead, you want to aim for a glazed version of the real thing, like a hamburger that’s been artfully anointed with hairspray to look mouthwatering in an advertising campaign.

    If you’re struggling to write great banter or get your characters’ convos flowing, start with these tips.

    Eavesdrop on strangers

    This is less about what people are saying and more about how they say it. Listen to the rhythms in people’s speech and the way they dance back and forth with each other. We tend to use shorter words over longer ones, punchier sentences over lengthy, complex phrases. But don’t get too caught up in replicating those choppy rhythms – you need some variety in there too. It’s all about balance. Remember, you’re aiming for real-ish!

    Do use contractions

    I beg you! If you’re writing contemporary fiction, load up your apostrophe splatter gun and keep your finger on the trigger. ‘I’m’ rather than ‘I am’; ‘it’s’ instead of ‘it is’; ‘can’t rather than cannot’ – and so on. Your characters will instantly sound so much more authentic. And when you do want to use the full word for a moment of emphasis, the contrast will mean it lands with the right amount of gravitas.

    Read it aloud

    As a journalist, I was taught to prioritise phone interviews over email questionnaires for the simple reason that people tend to sound like robots when they write things down. If your dialogue isn’t sparking joy, it might be that your writing voice is defaulting to formal settings. You won’t know it till you hear it, so raise your voice and loosen up.

    If you’re dropping words like ‘whilst’ or ‘therefore’, it’s easy to hear where formality has taken the reins. But it can also fly under the radar with something as small as a conjunction. One of my personal bugbears is the use of ‘as’ in place of ‘because’. I find it can drain the life from dialogue, instantly lending it an oddly formal feel:

    • ‘I couldn’t make it today as I got held up at work.’
      ‘I hate gerberas as they remind me of hospitals.’

    If you read those sentences out loud you’ll hear just how stilted and unnatural ‘as’ sounds in this context. But replace that ‘as’ with ‘because’, or maybe even a dash, and it’ll sound much more alive.

    • ‘I couldn’t make it today – I got held up at work.’
      ‘I hate gerberas because they remind me of hospitals.’

    It’s a small change, but effective!

    Give it purpose

    Dialogue does a lot of heavy lifting in storytelling. It’s action, bringing characters together to do something, learn something, make a decision or feel their feelings. It also reveals the characters’ intentions, secrets, fears and hopes. For that reason, every line has to work hard.

    When you’re writing dialogue, think about the purpose of the conversation. How is it moving the story forward? What do you want the characters to discover or decide? What dialogue shows your purpose effectively, and what might be diluting your purpose? For example, you don’t need the filler that we rely on in real conversations – hi, how are you, how was your day. Take us directly to the main course: ‘Where were you?’

    Consider the subtext, too. Often, what characters don’t say is what gives a scene an undercurrent of tension. Rather than tell us exactly what your character is thinking in the dialogue, can you show a disconnect between what they’re saying and what they’re feeling? Perhaps one of your characters is putting on a brave face while screaming inside, or they’re trying to remain calm in a stressful situation. The contrast between their dialogue and their inner narrative creates instant drama.

    Avoid name-dropping

    A surefire way to overcook your dialogue is to throw in lots of names. Like this:

    • ‘Look, Anna, it’s not about you, it’s just the way it turned out.’
    • ‘Is that so, Chloe? Because last time I checked, I was still the boss of this company.’
    • ‘Oh, get off your high horse, Anna!’

    In real life, we rarely address people by name, so overdoing it in fictional dialogue can be distracting or give an unintended patronising edge. If you’re aiming for sarcasm, however, a well-timed name-drop might be perfect. Just use this technique sparingly.

    Ground it in movement

    Dialogue with too many speech tags can start to feel like a game of tennis: 

    • ‘What’s going on?’ I asked. 
    • ‘We’re heading to the stakeout,’ he whispered. 
    • ‘Well, I’m coming,’ I said.
    • ‘Fine. Just don’t hold us up,’ he replied.

    Your first thought might be to pull out most of the speaker attributions and let the dialogue roll merrily on. But that can leave dialogue sounding weirdly disembodied. A nice solution is to add a bit of movement and interiority. Use a mix of physical action beats and interior narration to anchor the characters in the setting and layer up emotion.

    • ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.  
    • John glanced over his shoulder. ‘We’re heading to the stakeout,’ he whispered.
    • My stomach lurched. There was no hiding now, only damage control. ‘Well, I’m coming.’
    • He paused, eyes narrowed, considering. ‘Fine. Just don’t hold us up.’

    Ditch maid-and-butler dialogue

    This is the fancy name for the kind of dialogue that repeats what characters already know for the benefit of the reader. It’s another form of info-dumping and is best avoided:

    • ‘As you know, I moved to Sydney ten years ago from a small town in the outback.’
    • ‘You know how Cheryl was the one to catch John with his hands in the till?’

    If you’re using dialogue to catch the reader up on backstory, see if you can find a more compelling way of sharing the information.

    • ‘It’s funny – Sydney still doesn’t feel like home, even after ten years. I guess you can’t really ever shake the outback out of someone.’
    • ‘John’s getting out of prison on Monday. Do you think anyone’s warned Cheryl? I reckon he’s out for revenge.’

    Consider character background

    The most important note I can give you is to consider characterisation. From your POV characters to your supporting cast, each person should have their own voice. How would their upbringing, their background, their age and their personality affect their word choice, syntax and rhythm? When you nail this, your readers will know who’s talking without you even having to tell them. And that’s when you’ve nailed the craft of dialogue.

    If you’d like more help with your dialogue, get in touch for a free sample edit of your project. 

    Ready to learn how to punctuate dialogue? Head here.

  • Trust issues: Why trusting your reader is vital for strong storytelling

    A lack of trust can erode your story in subtle ways. Here’s how it tends to show up and how to show your reader you trust them.

    Two women sit on a couch with a pile of books and papers between them.

    As a journalist, one of the most common questions I field when interviewing people is: “Can I see the article before it goes to print?”

    Even though I’m used to it, I can’t help but sigh whenever they ask.

    Why? Inevitably, the subject of your article will want to make changes.

    On a journalistic level that’s a huge no-no as it compromises the integrity of your work. But even for a softer piece (ie: not the stuff of Walkley Awards), it can be an issue if your subject baulks at off-the-cuff comments they made that bring life and 

    colour to the story, and attempts to replace them with bland, pre-prepared answers.

    What I wish I could tell them is: Trust me to do my job well. Trust that others won’t judge you for showing a little personality.

    Trust is key in fiction writing too.

    Not only do you need to trust that a far-off reader will one day enjoy the story you’re working so hard to write, but you have to trust that future reader to get it – the joke, the emotion, the connections.

    In short, trust that your reader is smart enough to pick up what you’re putting down.

    As an editor, something I see a lot is writers who don’t yet trust their reader. It tends to show up in their work in two big ways.

    The big-picture info dump

    The first is with long blocks of backstory or world-building information that tell the reader exactly what they need to know right off the bat. We call these ‘info dumps’ because, well, you get it.

    This often looks like exposition that summarises the story’s setting or context before any action occurs. Or it might be a character reflecting on something important that happened to them in the past in lengthy detail.

    If you come across this in your work, see if you can show the information instead. Make your protagonist active in the world you’re creating and allow important details to come out organically as they interact with the setting and other characters.

    If it’s backstory that’s important to a character’s current situation, consider whether you need to give the reader all of it in one go. Maybe you can hint at a past betrayal or hurt at a critical moment and build up those hints with more detail as the story unfolds to create intrigue.

    And in both cases, resist the urge to repeat key details. Trust that your reader will be banking this info in their memory as they absorb the story.

    The sentence-level tells

    Another way a lack of trust shows up is with adverbial speech tags and/or explanations after dialogue.

    For instance, if you write something like:

    • ‘I hate that this is happening again,’ he shouted angrily, reminding her that they had already had this argument, over and over, and nothing had changed.

    Consider if you’re going a little too far in telling the reader what’s happening. Is the dialogue enough to a) convey that he’s angry, and b) tell the reader that the characters have been in this situation before? Yes and yes.

    A simple solution is to cut the adverb ‘angrily’. The speech tag ‘shouted’ does the job.

    But what about the rest of the line? Rather than hammering the point home to ensure your reader picks up on the significance of this moment, what if you show it through the POV character’s reaction?

    • ‘I hate that this is happening again,’ he shouted.
      She closed her eyes. It would be different this time. It had to be.

    This rework immediately creates curiosity in the reader. They understand that this is something that’s happened before. Now they’re asking, What happened? And why does it need to change?

    Learning to trust your reader in this way can be scary – it feels a lot like giving up control. What if they don’t get it? What if they miss something important?

    But trust in fiction is also about respect. When you take care not to over-explain, you convey to the reader that you respect their intelligence and their role in bringing your story to life.

    Because when you think about it, writing and reading is a collaboration. You’re teaming up with your reader to conjure the world and characters you’ve created in their imagination.

    The reader is trusting you to tell them a great story. Trust them to understand it.

    This post originally appeared in my fortnightly newsletter. If you’d like writing advice like this sent directly to your inbox, sign up via the form below. And if you’re looking for an editor you can trust with your story, reach out for a free sample edit of 1000 words.

  • Tips for using expletives in fiction

    Do you use expletives in your fiction writing? Here are some pointers to keep in mind when you’re dropping those swear bombs.

    I’m here for expletives in writing – a well-timed F bomb or a creative obscenity can inject tension, humour and relatability into dialogue and inner narratives. But like anything, too much can ruin the effect. Here are some pointers to keep in mind when you’re writing expletives into your fiction. 

    Don’t overdo it

    The first rule of expletives is: the more you use them, the less impact they have. Most readers won’t notice if your characters don’t swear, but they will notice (and might be put off) if they’re total potty mouths. Try to hold back and drop in those swear words only when they’re really need to enhance a dramatic moment or reveal character.

    Remember, dialogue isn’t supposed to be a perfectly accurate portrayal of real speech; it just gives the impression of real speech, but is usually far more concise, clear and engaging. So even though you might throw around a lot of casual swear words in your everyday conversations with friends, the same sort of carefree cursing might not translate authentically on the page.

    For inspiration on how to write tension without profanities, check out Lee Child’s work – although he writes gritty action thrillers, he famously doesn’t use any graphic language.

    They’re not a shortcut to character

    It’s a common trap to stuff sentences with expletives (effing, damn etc) in an effort to create a tough character or a distinctly masculine voice, especially if you’re not used to writing these types of characters. Problem is, not only is this tiring on the ear, it doesn’t really tell us much about who this character is. 

    Instead, spend some time getting to know your character, thinking about their influences and background to inform the speech patterns and delivery styles that would make sense for them. For instance, a softly spoken threat or insult can be far more powerful than an angry ‘eff off’.

    Use it when it’s least expected

    Contrast is a great way to capture your readers’ attention. Do you have a prim character who always does the right thing? Someone who blushes or bristles at the slightest hint of a four-letter word? Let them drop a spicy swear bomb in a pressurised moment and enjoy the shockwaves.

    Be creative

    A creative swearer is far more interesting and enjoyable to read than a regular curser. Leaning into more unexpected profanities can inject humour into a scene and tell us a lot about your character.

    Take inspiration from Shakespeare, the master of foul-mouthed rants and insults, like this one from Henry IV: “Thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch!”

    Ouch, right?!

    Or follow Douglas Adams’ lead and reassign meaning to an unlikely word for laughs. In The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, ‘Belgium’ is considered the most offensive word in the universe.

    When not to use expletives

    Expletives won’t be right for all kinds of books. For instance, if you’re writing middle grade or young adult fiction, it might not be appropriate to use swearing so you’ll need to find another way to allow your characters to let off verbal steam. 

    I’ve also heard that it’s best to avoid swearing in the opening pages of your novel, lest you put off readers sampling the first chapter. The theory goes that they might overlook some casual cursing once the story gets going and they’re familiar with the characters, but can be offended if they see it straight off the bat.

    I’m not a fan of prescriptive rules like these – and you’ll find plenty of fantastic books that break them – but it can be worth bearing in mind and considering whether all of your expletives really need to be on the page or if you can find a better way to get your character’s point across. Are you using expletives to ramp up intensity, and would an action beat or tighter dialogue do a more effective job?

    Finally, it has to make sense for your voice too. If it doesn’t feel good for you to use swear words in your fiction, it won’t work on the page, so don’t feel that you have to include them just to make a character sound authentic.

    Want help fine-tuning your writing and feedback on your use of profanities? Contact me about line and copyediting for your novel.

  • When is the best time to work with beta readers?

    Here are my top three tips for authors preparing to send their work out to beta readers

    A question fiction authors often ask me is: When should I get beta readers involved in my process? Before or after editing? Early on in my drafting process or just before publishing?

    (For the uninitiated, a beta reader is someone who reads and gives feedback on your unpublished work. It’s a sense-test for how your novel will be received by your ideal audience.)

    For the most part I’m a bit of a fence-sitter in my replies, because I don’t think there’s one right way to work with beta readers, just as there isn’t one right way to write a book.

    Bu-ut … I do have some thoughts that might be helpful to keep in mind if you’re considering working with beta readers. Here’s my two cents.

    There is such a thing as ‘too soon’

    If you’ve just finished a first draft of your story you might be feeling excited or anxious to get an outside perspective. You’ve been deep in the weeds with it and you want to know now before you go any further if you’re on the right track.

    The trouble with sending your work out to beta readers at this stage is that you can end up thoroughly confused by their responses. If you’re not sure yet where your story is going, your readers won’t be either, and they’re more likely to give you unclear or random feedback that has the potential to muddle your vision.

    While beta readers are sometimes writers themselves, it’s not necessarily the case, and they may not have the language or knowledge to express why something feels off in your story.

    My advice is to hold off on beta reading until later in your process when you’ve locked down the big-picture elements and you can articulate specific areas you’d like reader feedback on, such as pacing, plot predictability or character relatability.

    If you do want that early reader input, consider working with a critique partner (for example, a fellow writer who understands the conventions of plot and character) or joining a writing group or course, where you’re more likely to get targeted, useful feedback.

    Choose your beta readers wisely

    If you’re writing in a specific genre, it’s important to connect with beta readers who regularly read and enjoy that genre. These are your ideal readers, the people who are likely to buy your book when it’s published.

    That might sound obvious, but consider this scenario: one of your good friends is a big reader and you really respect their opinion, so you’ve shared your manuscript with them. But your friend is a fan of crime and literary fiction, and you’re writing romance.

    If your beta readers don’t understand the conventions of romance or enjoy the type of story that has a happy ever after, your novel’s plot might not engage them and they could suggest changes that aren’t suitable for your genre or trope. Worse, you might end up feeling crappy about your story just because it didn’t hit with someone outside your target readership.

    Take your time responding to feedback

    When you receive feedback, take the time to let it sink in before you make changes. As writers we can doubt our own decision-making and defer to others’ opinions, but making knee-jerk decisions based on an array of responses can end up giving your manuscript a Frankenstein feel.

    If, say, you receive feedback that one of your characters is annoying and unlikeable, consider how you might respond to that. Should you remove the character? That’s an option – but what flow-on effects would that have?

    Perhaps the feedback is really telling you that your character needs more development on the page so readers can understand what’s driving their behaviours.

    The same goes for plot points that beta readers might flag as dull – rather than cut or replace them, how could you raise the stakes and tension?

    Commonalities in beta readers’ feedback are worth noting, but don’t feel compelled to respond to every quibble your readers have raised. Remember, as the author, you know your story and characters best. Take what resonates and feel free to disregard what doesn’t.

    I’d love to know – do you work with beta readers? What tips would you give other authors?

    If you enjoyed this post, sign up to my newsletter! Every fortnight I share tips, advice and thoughts on writing and editing with my community. You’ll also receive my free guide, How to Know You’re Ready for Editing.

  • How to write great chapter and scene openers

    Chapter and scene openers matter just as much as the closing lines. Here’s some tips for crafting strong scenes from the very top.

    If you want to keep your readers hooked at the end of a chapter so they’re up all night reading your book, you know what to do: drop a clue, drop the mic, or drop a cliffhanger they can’t resist.

    But what about the next page? How do you harness that momentum and intrigue at the top of the next chapter or scene?

    Chapter and scene openers need to work just as hard to keep your readers invested, and when you put thought and care into them, they will lure your readers through your story.

    Here are a few tips for crafting strong scenes from the very top.

    Consider its purpose

    Just as your novel has a beginning, middle and end, so should your scenes. They need to move your story forward, and to do that they need a purpose.

    When you’re writing or reviewing a scene, think about its overall purpose in the story. Is it setting up a conversation that will reveal an important clue? Perhaps it’s pushing a couple to a make-or-break point. Or it could be about putting a character under stress or moving them closer to their goal. Pinpointing what the scene needs to do can give you ideas about the most impactful place for it to begin.

    In Chapter 20 of Love, Just In by Natalie Murray, a scene in which the protagonist Josie confronts her health anxiety with a doctor for the first time opens with this line:

    • Doctor Ellison is running nearly an hour behind, leaving me plenty of time to read and reread the cancer awareness posters taped to the wall until my palms are slick and my mouth has dried to a desert.

    In this scene, the consult with the doctor is what moves the story forward, so Murray doesn’t spend too long building up Josie’s anxiety beforehand.

    Instead, she opens in the moment just before the appointment begins and shows us how Josie is feeling in one carefully crafted sentence. The next line shows her name being called, and we’re straight into the scene with the doctor.

    Cut mundane detail

    It’s easy to do because we live it, but chapter and scene openers that describe mundane activities (waking up and brushing teeth, washing dishes, having a polite chat) or an info dump (lots of backstory), or a routine journey can slow the pace and give your reader an excuse to tap out.

    The beauty of writing a book is that scene and chapter breaks can cut the chaff for you – there’s no need to show a character going from A to B or making small talk about the weather when you can open a scene or chapter with drama.

    Try cutting the stage directions and opening in medias res – the middle of the action – whether that’s a tense conversation or a chase down the street or a devastating reveal.

    Here’s an example from Chapter 24 of Not Here to Make Friends by Jodi McAlister (Murray’s POV), which opens with an irresistible line of dialogue:

    • “You’re angry with me,” Lily said.
    • She was standing in front of my golf cart, arms folded.

    We don’t see Murray make his way to the golf cart, start the engine and roll down the hill, nor do we see him clock Lily making her way across the lawn. We dive straight into their make-or-break conversation.

    Make us laugh

    Use your character’s inner voice to get us on side.

    What are they thinking in this moment? Starting with that thought, especially if it’s incongruous with the scenario they’re in, is like catnip for readers.

    Consider this from Chapter Seven of That Island Feeling by Karina May, in which POV character Jack is cleaning rooms at the local resort:

    • Humans are foul. Especially humans on holidays. It’s like they forget the basics of cleanliness. Coffee stains on sheets, crumbs on sheets – other things on sheets.

    Or this line from Wattle it Be by Emma Mugglestone, when Wyatt fronts up for dinner with the crush he can’t have, Billie (page 42).

    • It wasn’t like this was a real date.  

    One is written in first person, the other third, but both examples show us the character’s unique voice, pulling us in with their humour and wilful self-delusion.

    Set the scene

    Writing isn’t all dialogue and inner narrative. You also need to anchor the story in place. Setting the scene can be an effective way to open a chapter – just take care not to overdo it. A few lines of description can paint a picture, while a few pages can send the reader to sleep.

    This para from Chapter Five of Kit McBride Gets a Wife by Amy Barry works beautifully – it’s just enough rich detail to bring to life the charming tableau that’s about to be shattered by Junebug’s rough manners and scheming.

    • Willabelle was holding court in one of Rigby’s high-backed cane chairs. She was decked out in canary-yellow satin, with an enormous fluffy yellow feather curling from her pile of blond hair. She was glowing, the sun around which everything orbited. The porch was crammed with miners. Every seat was full, and the porch rail was hidden, as men lined it, elbow to elbow. All of them had their gazes trained on Willabelle.

    Bonus tip: Don’t overthink it

    Not every scene needs to shock and awe. You need some variety in your novel, and some slower-paced openers can allow readers time to breathe and absorb the story.

    But if you feel that your writing is falling flat, playing around with those chapter and scene openers and cutting away extraneous detail to highlight the purpose of the scene might just be the way to add some sparkle to your story.

    Want help refining your scene and chapter openers? Get in touch to chat about editing for your novel.

  • How to format text messages in fiction

    A woman standing in front of a window looks at her phone screen as though reading a text message.

    An easy guide to depicting dialogue as text messages in a contemporary fiction novel.

    Text messages are a part of everyday life so if you’re writing contemporary fiction there’s a good chance you’ll want to include a few in your story. But how do you format them? Should you use quote marks? Do you need to indicate the sender with a name or dialogue tag? What about emojis?! 🤪

    There are a few options for fiction writers to choose from. Let’s take a look.

    Keep it simple with italics

    You could use quote marks, but because readers are so used to seeing quote marks with speech, it’s clearer to illustrate texts with some other kind of formatting.

    The most straightforward way to show text messages in fiction is with italics, which are usually used to indicate any dialogue that isn’t spoken aloud.

    You can add a dialogue tag or action beat to clarify who’s sending the text, as you would if they were speaking. For example:

    Hey, I just pulled up, Trent texted.

    Be there in a minute! I typed back.

    Choose a different font

    If your characters are spending a lot of time communicating this way, you might want to use a clear visual cue to indicate a text message convo. Select a different font (a sans serif font helps to distinguish it from the rest of the copy while giving a nod to tech formatting) and set it off with indents. For example:

    tile showing text messages formatted with a different font and indents.

    Use formatting to indicate sent and received texts

    Think about how messages are displayed on your phone. The ones you send are aligned right and the ones you receive are aligned left. Some authors are choosing to replicate this format in their works, even placing them inside speech bubbles with dates and times for an authentic look. In this style, you might want to use names to indicate speakers, as you would in a play. For example:

    A tile showing two text messages aligned left and right

    Some authors – particularly young adult authors – might even like to work with a designer or illustrator to create a graphic treatment for texts.

    How to choose?

    Your choice of style to use will depend on a number of factors, including readability and budget.

    Some questions to ask yourself include:

    • Do you have long strings of text exchanges between characters?
    • Will you ever have more than two people in a text chat?
    • If you’re using names to discern who is sending the texts, how do you imagine them being read in an audio version?
    • What age group are you writing for?
    • Are you working with a designer/typesetter who can create a special design treatment for texts?
    • Is space an issue?
    • What’s your personal preference when reading this type of dialogue in fiction?

    If you’re only using the odd text here and there, italics might be all you need. But if text messages are a critical part of your characters’ dialogue, consider using a special treatment, even if it’s just a different font.

    You might like to try out a few different styles and see how they fit, and when you decide on one, ask your beta readers to give feedback on whether your treatment of text messages is clear and enjoyable to read.

    What about emojis?

    I love a smiley/winky/smirky face as much as the next millennial, but there are caveats to using these guys. Like fonts, emojis (that is, the little pictures, not the ones created with letters) are subject to copyright, so if you’re self-publishing, make sure to buy a licence or find a free version for your work. Also bear in mind that they won’t appear in colour in your printed book, which may lessen their visual appeal and impact.

    Another thing to consider is the possibility that they will date your book. Emojis are popular now but they may be considered cringe in a few years’ time, or their meaning could shift. It’s something to keep in mind if you’re concerned about your work’s longevity in the market.

    The verdict

    As long as you’re making text messages and who’s sending them clear to your reader, there’s no real right or wrong here. I lean towards using a different font or italics to indicate text messages in fiction and weaving in some dialogue tags and action beats to keep readers on top of who’s texting at all times. If you’re working with a copy editor, you can ask them if they can set up a special style in Word for text messages when working on your book to ensure you achieve both consistency and clarity. This will ensure they’re typeset differently to the rest of your text too.

    Ultimately, I love seeing creative ways of depicting technology in fiction and I’m excited to see how this evolves on the page. Futuristic novels that use not-yet-created technology? Even more fun!

    Want help formatting your book’s text messages? Get in touch for a sample edit.