Lesson · Dialogue
Rhythm and voice
Dialogue is not a transcript. It is speech shaped for the reader: shorter, sharper and more distinct than real talk. Read it aloud as you revise; where you stumble or run out of breath, the reader will too.
01
Break long speeches
In life people interrupt, react and lose the thread. A paragraph of speech with no beat and no reply stops the scene and turns the listener into furniture.
Find the point where the listener would react, and let them: a word, a gesture, a refusal to answer. Then cut what the listener already knows.
The check flags a speech of 150 words or more. That is a prompt to look, not a limit.
When to keep it
A long speech works when the length is the point: a story told to someone who asked for it, a confession that has been held back for chapters, a speech a character has rehearsed. Even then, a single beat can show the listener is still in the room.
Ask yourself. Where in this speech would the listener most want to interrupt? What happens if you let them?
Before
“The boat was ours before it was his. Dad bought it the year I was born, and he kept it in the yard all winter, and every spring we scraped it together, and when he died it should have come to me.”
After
“The boat was ours before it was his. Dad bought it the year I was born.” Ana waited. Her brother kept coiling the rope. “Every spring we scraped it together. You were never there.”
This one works
“I’ll tell you what happened, since nobody else will. It was the winter the river froze to the bridge…”
02
Say less than you mean
People rarely state their feelings outright, least of all in a conflict. “I feel betrayed” names the emotion and ends the tension.
A line that circles the feeling, or a character who answers a different question, lets the reader work it out. The scene stays alive because something is still unsaid.
When to keep it
Let a character say it plainly when the plainness is the event: the confession after chapters of avoidance, the moment the dam breaks. It works because it is rare.
Ask yourself. If a reader heard only this line, would they know what the speaker feels without being told?
Before
“I’m angry that you lied to me about the money.”
After
“How much did you tell them it cost?”
Before
“I’m scared that if you go, you won’t come back.”
After
“Take the good coat. The one with the lining.”
This one works
For eleven chapters he had talked about the weather, the harvest, the price of feed.
“I was wrong,” he said. “About you. About all of it.”
03
Exposition in dialogue
When characters tell each other what both already know, the line is really for the reader, and readers can tell. “As you know, Dad left us the farm” is a sign of it.
Give the information to a character who does not know it, let it come out under pressure, or put it in the narration.
When to keep it
Characters may state known facts when the setting asks for it (a trial, a briefing, a lesson) or when saying it aloud is itself a move: a reminder used as a threat.
Ask yourself. Does the listener need to hear this, or only the reader?
Before
“As you know, Tom, our father left the farm to both of us when he died last spring.”
After
“It’s half mine, Tom. He made sure of that. Whatever you told the bank.”
Before
“The ship’s engine has a coolant leak, which means we have six hours before it overheats.”
After
The new engineer frowned at the gauge. “Is that supposed to be climbing?”
“Coolant,” said the captain. “Six hours. Maybe.”
This one works
“Tell the court what you saw on the night of the ninth.”
04
Voices that differ
Cover the names and read the exchange. Can you tell who is speaking? Characters differ in sentence length, in the words they reach for, in what they avoid saying and how they deflect.
When several characters open their lines the same way, with “Well” or “Look”, their voices flatten into one. A habit is fine when it belongs to one person.
When to keep it
Repetition is voice when it belongs to one character and the reader can learn to expect it. Keep it there and take it out of everyone else’s mouth.
Ask yourself. Cover the names. Can you tell who is speaking from the words alone?
Before
“Well, I think we should wait until morning,” said Lise.
“Well, I think we should go now,” said Cal.
After
“Morning. When we can see what we’re walking into,” said Lise.
“By morning they’re gone. Get your boots.”
This one works
“Look, it’s simple.” “Look, nobody’s blaming you.” “Look, eat something.”
Uncle Ray started every sentence that way, and the family had stopped hearing it years ago.
05
Pressure in every exchange
Good dialogue is a negotiation. Each person wants something from the other: an answer, a favour, to be left alone, to win. The exchange moves as they push and give way.
When two characters agree, pass information back and forth or exchange pleasantries, the scene stalls. Ask what each one wants in this moment, and what stops them from simply asking for it.
When to keep it
A calm exchange can earn its place as a breath between harder scenes, or to show what is about to be lost. Keep it short.
Ask yourself. What does each speaker want from the other in this exchange?
Before
“Do you want to come to the market?”
“Sure, that sounds nice.”
“Great, let’s go after lunch.”
After
“Come to the market with me.”
“I have the accounts.”
“The accounts will be here at four. The cheese man won’t.”
“Is that who you’re going to see?”
This one works
“Tea?”
“Please.”
They drank it at the window, the way they had every evening for thirty years.
06
Hear the rhythm
Read the exchange aloud. Long lines slow a scene; short lines speed it up. A run of lines all the same length starts to drone.
Vary the length with the tension: short lines for a quarrel or a chase, longer ones when someone is explaining, persuading or remembering. Put the word that matters at the end of the line, where the voice falls.
Ask yourself. Read the passage aloud. Where did you stumble, or run out of breath?
Before
“I think that the most important thing right now is that you leave this house before he comes back.”
After
“Leave. Now. Before he’s back.”
Before
“It’s yours, the house, now that she’s gone.”
After
“Now that she’s gone, the house is yours.”
The examples were written for this lesson.
Check a page of your own
Paste a page and see what this lesson looks like in your writing. It runs in your browser, sends nothing and uses no AI.
More lessons
- DialogueTags and beatsA speech tag tells the reader who is speaking. When it starts telling them how, it competes with the line it belongs to.
- ContinuityNames and continuityReaders keep track of your people and places by their names. When a name drifts, they stop to work out whether someone new has arrived. A story bible is only as good as its last update: when you rename someone in revision, change the entry first, then check each chapter again.
- Point of viewPoint of view and filteringThe reader lives inside your point-of-view character. Every “she saw” and “he felt” reminds them they are outside, watching someone else have the experience.
- Point of viewTense and personEvery story chooses when it is told and who tells it. Once the reader has settled into a tense and a voice, a change they were not meant to notice reads as a stumble.
- ProseClutterSome words go into a sentence while we are thinking and stay after we have finished. Taking them out rarely loses anything, and the sentence stands up straighter.
- ProseEchoes and repetitionReaders hear prose even when they read in silence. A word that comes back too soon, or sentences that all open the same way, catch the ear like a skipped note.
- ProseStock phrasingSome phrases have been written so many times that readers no longer see them: a heart that pounds, a silence that stretches. They tell the reader a feeling happened without letting them feel it.
- SceneBackstoryEverything that happened before page one is backstory. Readers want some of it, at the moment they want it, in the amount the scene can carry.