Do you see how I made them speak?

I love writing dialogue. When a new story idea pops into my brain it’s always in the form of dialogue, or at the very least a dialogue-heavy scene.

My first drafts are very much ‘talking heads’. Everyone is naked and floating in a void. Just so I’ll know who said what, I stick in the first initial of the character every few lines. I don’t bother with quotation marks or other punctuation, and I don’t worry about spelling. I’m usually breathless while I type because I’m eager to get the words down before I forget something, like a witty comeback. I don’t want to take the time to fill in setting, introspection and action tags so I add those things during the revision and/or editing.

In my latest release, Love Proof, the hero Ray has come into the heroine’s bakery to talk about a magazine story he’s doing on small businesses in town. Fiona isn’t sure she wants him there because of reasons. Here’s how part of the scene looked as it spewed from my fingertips onto the computer screen:

You either work out or are one of those lucky people who never gains weight. R

I have a strict rule governing how much I eat at work. F

You must have incredible willpower.

 I gained fifteen pounds in the first six months of running the bakery. I declared in writing that I would eat one portion of one sweet each day and one piece of the trimmings.

Trimmings?

Some of the bar cookies get a little overcooked along the edges, making them crunchy or ugly. I shave off half an inch to neaten them up.

And it would be a shame to throw that stuff away. R

It would be criminal

You wouldn’t want to go to jail for something like that

Exactly.

Plus, it’s wasteful.

It would be adding to the landfill unnecessarily F

You’re just being civic-minded

Saving the environment.

One sweet mouthful at a time.

       I’ll be right back. F

And here’s how the final version looks:   

“You either work out or are one of those lucky people who never gains weight.”

Heat warmed her cheeks and she pretended to straighten the bakery boxes. Was he complimenting her or just making conversation? She blew out a breath. It didn’t matter either way because she wasn’t interested, right? No way would she even consider being interested. He was off-limits, the most off-limits person since the invention of limits. “I have a strict rule governing how much I eat at work.”

“You must have incredible willpower.”

That willpower was being tested right now, and not for the treats in the display case. “I gained fifteen pounds in the first six months of running the bakery. I declared in writing that I would eat one portion of one sweet each day, and one piece of the trimmings.”

“Trimmings?” He rested his elbows on the counter, his hands clasped, which highlighted the way his shoulders filled his shirt, and the way his biceps filled his shirt. What lay hidden under his shirt?

“Some of the bar cookies get a little overcooked along the edges, making them crunchy or ugly. I shave off half an inch to neaten them up.”

“And it would be a shame to throw that stuff away.”

She grinned. “It would be criminal.”

“You wouldn’t want to go to jail for something like that.”

“Exactly.”

“Plus, it’s wasteful.”

“It would be adding to the landfill unnecessarily.” Fiona leaned her hip against the counter, but it had nothing to do with wanting to get closer to Raynor. It had nothing at all to do with that.

“You’re just being civic-minded.”

“Saving the environment.”

“One sweet mouthful at a time.”

Their smiles collided, and she heard a small pop, like a champagne cork expertly eased from the bottle. Or maybe the guilt imprisoning her heart had relaxed an inch.

Whatever had happened spelled disaster. “I’ll be right back.”

You can see how I added description (which highlighted the way his shoulders filled his shirt, and the way his biceps filled his shirt), action tags (Fiona leaned her hip against the counter,), and a bit of introspection (No way would she even consider being interested.). Now you get a sense of where they are, what they’re doing while they talk, and a hint about what Fiona is thinking.

Authors – do you enjoy writing dialogue?

Readers – is the dialogue your favourite part of the story? Or do you enjoy more the setting descriptions, the character details, and getting a peek into the character’s heads?

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