Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Writing Believable Dialogue



by Kathryn Dionne  



For me, writing believable dialogue is one of the most challenging aspects of writing a great story.  

When I first started writing books, I would go into coffee shops, restaurants, and retail stores with pen and pad in hand searching for my next victim.  I’d seek out a couple deep in conversation. Then I would move in closer so that I could eavesdrop on their discussion. My thought behind this stalking strategy was; what better way to capture realistic dialogue than to listen to it first hand?

I quickly realized how bad an idea this really was.

One particular time I was in a clothing store.  I had focused on two teenage girls deep in conversation as they rummaged through a rack of sale items. I thought, fantastic! Now I’m really going to get some juicy and plausible dialogue.

Their conversation went something like this;
“Like, I’d really wear that.”
“Uh huh. Me either. What time is it?”
“I dunno. You wanna go?”
“I dunno, do you? Eew, like I’d really wear that.”
And round and round their conversation went. I kept thumbing through the rack next to them hoping they would give me more than a three word sentence. I needed more information, more realistic verbal interaction between these two characters.  Why wouldn’t they wear those shirts?  Were they too small? Too large? Not the right color or the right style?  I needed to know.  And once they left there, where would they be going?  To another store? Out to eat? Home? To visit their boyfriends?  There seemed to be so many details that had been omitted.  And what they had told me did not advance the story. In fact, their dialogue stalled it. I didn’t know anything more about their situation than when I first walked over.  They weren’t giving me any new information. And the information they had provided was lacking in depth and dimension.  They had not bothered to set the mood or establish the tone of the conversation.  Why did character #1 want to know what time it was?  Did she have some ulterior motive?  Was she hiding something from her friend? I kept waiting for more nuggets of insight into who these girls were and what their motives were.  But the dialogue continued its monotonous loop with no change in pace or differentiation between the two voices. Were they even listening to themselves?

In my mind I screamed out, give me something more! I needed to see an action that would move the story forward, like a glance over their shoulder toward the door as if waiting for someone, or a quick look at the manager standing near the cash register to make sure they weren’t being watched.  Without some subtle movement or gesture to evolve the story, I was lost.  And yet, I knew there was so much more to this tale that needed to be told. So without thinking, I grabbed the arm of the girl closest to me and said in a rather breathy voice, “Where are you going next?”  I wasn’t going to follow them. I just needed to know!

I learned something very valuable that day about the do’s and don’ts of writing believable dialogue:

DO:      
1.      Make sure your dialogue moves the story forward.
2.      Let your dialogue set the mood and tone of the story.
3.      Use action to break up the pace of the dialogue.
4.      Add depth to your characters by giving them each a distinctive voice.
5.      Read your dialogue out loud to make sure it is flowing in the direction you want it to go.

DON’T:
1. Stalk anyone to get your realistic dialogue!

I won’t bore you with the details of what happened next.  Suffice it to say, I’m not allowed in that store any more.


About the Author

Kathryn Dionne, the author of The Eleventh Hour trilogy and Derek The Fireless Dragon, lives in Southern California with her husband, Jeff, and their two Shar Peis, Bogey and Gracie. 
From an early age, Kathryn’s love of treasure hunting sparked an interest in archaeology. As an amateur archaeologist, she’s been fortunate enough to uncover some very unique artifacts in different parts of the globe.  However, she’s still searching for that very special scroll.
In addition to writing, she manages their five-acre property and their grove of Italian olive trees.  Her husband has lovingly named their business; Saint Kathryn’s Olive Oil. 
In her spare time, she makes cookie jars and throws pottery in her studio.  She also creates mosaics from discarded objects and sells them under the category of Found Art.
She is currently writing a new series called, Chasing Time, which she hopes to have published some time in 2013.     





https://twitter.com/1KathrynDionne

Sunday, November 10, 2013

How to Pluck a Goose



by The Ex Farmer's Wife

      

               Germans love their goose for Christmas. Traditionally, the first appear on the menu of restaurants on St. Martin's day, 11 November. In the weeks leading up to our first Christmas in Ireland, word spread in the village where we had bought the farm that we had geese for sale − if only four. Though not a traditional Irish Christmas dish, there were more people interested in getting these rare birds than we could provide. One we wanted to keep for our own Christmas dinner.
          So how do you pluck a goose? This is what you need: a goose, buckets of scorching hot but not boiling water to dip the bird in head down, and some stamina, i.e. not too delicate a nose. I had practiced before in Germany on one, but to do four was a challenge. Each takes at least 90 minutes to pluck.
                                                                               (an AGA)

    
              So my trusted housekeeper and helper, Pauline, put several pots on the stove to heat up the water. On our cooker, an AGA, that would take a while. In the meantime, Mac and I chose and caught the poor first victim straight from the goose hut. When we lifted the roof of the hut carefully Father Goose became extremely aggressive, hissing and nipping at Mac's hands and jeans-clad legs. Their nips hurt! You have to grab the goose by its neck, which pretty much renders it defenseless. 
On the yard, near the compost heap on the wall, we had a timber block for splitting wood for kindling. Mac carried the goose over there, speaking in soothing tones to it, holding it with one hand and patting it with the other. He then put it on the block. I held its neck and Mac grabbed the axe. I didn't really dare to watch, but necessity made me blink and double check that my arm was outstretched far away enough out of the danger zone. With one swift swing, the goose was in goose heaven. In contrast to chickens, you can't wring their necks. They are too strong. But they don't flutter around headless on the yard either as chickens do. 

You have to let the blood drip out completely before you can proceed. Now the plucking can begin. We had an enormous double sink that we had bought from a youth hostel and put a big bucket in both basins. Dip the bird into the hot water and you can pluck away. Pauline and I stood side by side and worked on a goose each while having a good chin wag.

              Geese are much harder to pluck than chickens because their feathers are stubborn.  The worst are the pin feathers. And geese do smell. Raised on a diet of pure grass, it's surprising how much their intestines stink. After about an hour the feathers were done, and my hands, legs, and feet had gone cold and numb. At this stage, the city girl in me chickened out. My hypersensitive nose couldn’t take it anymore. I volunteered to put the kettle on for a tea break, Elevenses as they call it in Ireland. Pauline was made of tougher material. She didn't mind to keep going and always looked forward to her hot cuppa. Next she cut up the animals and pulled out the entrails, a messy and malodorous job. Then she washed them many times under running, cold water and neatly presented them on a plate.
          Grateful, I had the tea and refreshments ready. Most times we had to remove little hairs that stubbornly stuck to the skin with tweezers without tearing the skin. Then one year,  Mac had a brilliant idea: you could actually use a little flame torch like restaurants use for making Crème Brulée and just singe off the remaining fine hairs. Again, one had to be careful not to burn or damage the skin.
         Our price per animal was about 30 Irish pounds ($50 today), of which I had to pay Pauline 10 for her work. Every year, I toyed with the idea of saving the eiderdown and big feathers to fill pillow cases. The thought of cleaning these heaps of feathers, however, sounded like too much work to me. So we never did it. Today I prefer to buy a goose ready for the oven, if I can find them organically grown: plucked and cleaned! Thank goodness, my plucking days are over.
         Here’s my favorite recipe handed down from my mother: Stuffed with a mixture of breadcrumbs, apples and onions, the bird requires slow roasting at 180C/375 F under continuous basting with water, its own juices, and occasional turning. 2-3 hours is recommended. Delicious accompaniments are potatoes, red cabbage and apple sauce. Go for a lean bird: geese can be fatty. Ours never were, because they were grass-fed, free-range--the sporty, muscular type.
(Excerpt of her upcoming book: I once had a Farm in Ireland - An Organic Life Story).  

Siggy Buckley   
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