NOTE: I shared this with my students today, hoping to show them how dialogue, even if it has to be contrived a bit, helps bring readers into their writing.
I remember this happening:
My brother and I loved to ride our bikes through the industrial park and vacant lots next to our home. The road was lightly-traveled, so we could weave all we wanted on our bikes, or dart into the vacant lots to bounce along the dirt trails. One day we decided to take a longer route, and at one point I hollered we should race. I was in the lead, but my brother is pretty fast on his bicycle, so quickly took the lead.
Our route led us through the parking lot of an abandoned RV dealership, a construction office and then past a looming, two-story concrete building that jutted out of line of the others, concealing a business that engraved gravestones right on the corner where we turned for home.
The parking lot leading to the two story building was rough, so as I raced to catch my brother, I was more interested in watching the bumps so I wouldn't crash. I rounded the corner, shot past the gravestones then barreled the few hundred yards to the house and came to a halt in the garage.
My brother wasn't there.
Odd. He'd been ahead of me. Maybe he went inside? But his bike wasn't there either. I waited a few minutes then rode off in search of him, retracing our route. Maybe he found something interesting to do I was missing out on.
When I went around the corner of the two-story building, I saw him lying on the ground, partly underneath his bicycle, moaning a bit. When he heard me he looked up and said he'd been looking over his shoulder to see how far behind I was, then turned around just in time to see he was about to hit the building. He laid his bike out and only got a scraped hand. I don't know how I missed it all, unless I was too busy looking at the rough parking lot to hear the crash.
I like to think this is pretty vivid. There's a lot of detail here. But there's something missing. I'm going to try again.
My brother and I loved to ride our bikes through the industrial park and vacant lots next to our home. The road was lightly-traveled, so we could weave all we wanted on our bikes, or dart into the vacant lots to bounce along the dirt trails. One day we decided to take a longer route, and at one point I hollered "Hey, let's race!"
"No fair! You're already ahead!" he yelled. But I laughed and pedaled faster.
I had to. I was in the lead, but my brother is pretty fast on his bike.
"See you, loser!" he shouted as he passed.
Not fair.
Our route led us through the parking lot of an abandoned RV dealership, a construction office and then past a looming, two-story concrete building that jutted out of line of the others, concealing a business that engraved gravestones right on the corner where we turned for home.
The parking lot leading to the two story building was rough, so as I raced to catch my brother, I was more interested in watching the bumps so I wouldn't crash. I rounded the corner, shot past the gravestones then barreled the few hundred yards to the house and came to a halt in the garage.
My brother wasn't there.
Odd. He'd been ahead of me. Maybe he went inside? I hollered through the back door to the house: "Randy! You there?" I got silence. But his bike wasn't there either. I waited a few minutes then rode off in search of him, retracing our route. Maybe he found something interesting to do I was missing out on.
When I went around the corner of the two-story building, I saw him lying on the ground, partly underneath his bicycle, moaning a bit. When he heard me he looked up. "I was watching you, over my shoulder, to see how far behind you were. Then I turned my head and that building was there." He laid his bike out and only got a scraped hand, rather than crashing into the building. Lucky.
"I don't know how I missed it," I said. "Maybe I was looking at the parking lot. Didn't hear you crash."
Again, this is vivid, I think. But hearing my brother and I talk -- that adds another dimension. I hope it helps draw you into the story more deeply.
Try that with your stories.
Are these quotes 100% accurate? Probably not. I remember what happened and in a general sense the things we said to each other, but I can't guarantee what I've recreated here is 100% accurate to what was said.
But that doesn't matter. I'm recreating a story from my own life, and as long as I try to be faithful to the memories I'm recreating, 100% accuracy doesn't matter.
What does matter is using the conversation to help draw the reader into the story. Hearing the words, rather than merely being told something like that was said, strips away a barrier between the writer and the reader and helps both be present at the same time.
A favorite example of this from real life is from Wilson Rawls' "Where the Red Fern Grows." Rawls writes in the introduction to the book:
[This as yet unnamed person has spotted a dogfight, and is wading in to stop it.]
Taking off my coat, I wandered in. My yelling and scolding didn't have much effect, but the swinging coat did. The dogs scattered and left.
Down on my knees, I peered back under the hedge. The hound was still mad. He growled at me and showed his teeth. I knew it wasn't his nature to fight a man.
In a soft voice I started talking to him. "Come on, boy," I said. "It's all right. I'm your friend. Come out now."
The fighting fire slowly left his eyes. He bowed his head and his long red tail started thumping the ground. I kept coaxing. On his stomach, an inch at a time, he came to me and laid his head in my hand.
Rawls uses the quoted phrases in this instance to bring verisimilitude to this scene. He could have continued simply to narrate, but hearing the words, particularly in context with the violent dogfight he describes earlier, helps bring the story from a frenzy to a calmer state. Is this likely 100% accurate to what he said in this instance, or is it more likely that he says something similar when he stops any dogfight? Probably the latter. But hearing the words acts as a calming brake to this scene.
I challenge you, as you write your stories, to look for ways you can use quoted words to help connect your readers to what you're writing. Because I guarantee when I read that quote, I too am calmed. It sends the message he's done this before, he loves dogs, he wants to make a friend. It's a big message sent in a few compact phrases.
Try this out in your writing. It can be powerful.
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