Writers Abroad

Dialogue – among many other things – has been on my mind recently as I struggle to edit my NaNoWriMo effort.

We’re always told that dialogue moves the plot along and develops character better than narrative. That’s quite true. After all, fiction is about people and, unless you are very good at interior monologue (à la Alan Bennett or Kate Atkinson), dialogue is essential. But what dialogue?

If we think of the exchanges that characterise our daily lives, they really aren’t very interesting to other people:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How was your day?”

“So-so. Did you take the chicken out of the freezer?”

“Yes, it should be defrosted by now.”

“Could you turn the oven on to 200? I’ll just go and change.”

See what I mean? If that were a novel, you’d have died of boredom by now - unless the unfrozen chicken turned into a vampire or a burglar/spy/terrorist leapt through the French windows and held them at gunpoint.

In my own novel I have been trying to find the right voice in the dialogue. Should you make historical fiction – as mine is – sound a bit archaic? Or is it better to make people speak in present-day diction? So, should you include contractions – “I don’t think you’d better do that” – or shouldn’t you – “I do not think you had better do that”? The former sounds better because that’s what we’re used to. Can you expect modern readers to accept more formal dialogue? Where do you draw the line?

Similarly, how should you present dialogue in fiction that’s set in a country where they speak a different language? I am reading a novel set in France – for various reasons I’d better not say which one – and often find myself questioning the authenticity of the dialogue. Although the novel is written in English, the author clearly wants the protagonists to sound French. In doing so, he just makes the language sound stilted. It’s almost as if the novel had been translated – rather badly – from French into English. The author would have done better to render it into everyday English as it’s spoken in the UK.  

And what about speech tags? I have learned that it’s best to keep them simple – “He/she said” or “He/she asked”. But you see authors using all sorts of bizarre constructions to describe speech: “she averred”; “he ejaculated” (!); “she postulated”. These examples all come from published novels. What was the editor doing? Or did he/she just want to give the reader a good laugh?

I am beginning to realise that the best dialogue requires the least effort on the part of the reader. A good way to test authenticity is to read dialogue out loud. Since I share an office with my husband, this is not always easy. However, if you can’t imagine yourself, or people you know, saying it like that, then there’s probably something wrong. This has been a great step forward in the editing process for my novel.

Listening to how people really do talk is also a good way of making your fictional dialogue more authentic. I am a great one for eavesdropping in shops and restaurants. But, again, you have to elide the ums, ers, you knows, because they just don’t make people want to read on. You have to gild reality with the fairy dust of fiction.  

I typed “writing dialogue” into Google and got 194,000 results. No, I didn’t wade through them all but I found some useful tips here:

www.writersdigest.com/uncategorized/writing-dialogue-the-5-best-ways-to-make-your-characters-conversations-seem-real

What tips do you have for making dialogue sound authentic and believable but interesting?

A Picture Sells a Story

I wrote an article instead of a blog, creature of habit that I am. Still, it may be worth editing for a writing magazine. So now I’ve made it vaguely blog-like. Apologies if it’s too long. I’ve deleted loads. There’s just too much to say.

Having written features for travel magazines, I know it’s good quality photos that sell a story. Dare I say, as a writer? Perhaps the pictures sell it more than the actual words. The text must still be interesting and informative, but if my pictures don’t please the editor, I know there’s a chance of rejection.

So, what do editors want? Almost invariably, high resolution images. I’ve had editors ask for ‘a minimum of 1Mb, preferably much more’ or ‘a minimum of 2500 pixels on the longest side’. I’ve been asked for a selection of ‘thumbnails’ before an editor even considered my pitch. Most supply guidelines.

It’s easy to be deceived by the quality of pictures on a computer screen. Don’t they look great? But they need a high enough resolution to work as well on the printed page. It’s all about how many of those little dots – pixels – you can squeeze in. For publication on line, this is probably less important, as the images used are often smaller, unlike the full A4 page of a glossy magazine. My camera has 10 million pixels, and just adequate.

I hear you say, ‘But I just point and shoot. The pictures are fine.’ It’s almost true with today’s technology. But if you think ahead, you won’t need to trim later to get rid of  dull foregrounds, overhead cables or patches of shade. Trimming loses you precious pixels. It’s all about framing.

Everyone knows the best pictures are taken early or late in the day. Nothing beats an early morning shot across the water, with reflections so clear you could use the picture upside down. But what if you’ve only one day – usually the case for me – to rush around getting material for an article? I plan ahead.

Inevitably, I’ll take some shots at midday, but I try to arrange museum visits or eating for the ‘bad light’ times and save the ‘good light’ times for my most important shots. For example, I work out when the sun will light up a particular place of interest, when that ‘bustling street’ will fill with people, and when the sun will be behind me for the shot I hope will grace the opening page.

I only include people in my pictures if they’re there for a reason. For an article about hiking in the Pyrenees, a figure with a backpack would add to the scene. In a picture of a salmon river, I’d search for a fisherman to fit in the frame. People are also useful to give a sense of scale. Think Ayers Rock. Or the biggest snake you ever saw. Without something to compare their size to, who’d believe you? 

Most cameras these days have fully automated settings which work as well as most photographers. Personally, I like to take lots of shots, both manual and automatic. Listed below are what I try to remember and often forget. Please add your own. So I can steal them for my article!

              Fill the frame, not forgetting to take a selection of upright and           horizontal shots

              Take your pictures early or late in the day whenever possible

              Take lots of shots. Most, but not all, should relate to the text

               Learn how to adjust the shutter speed and exposure settings for difficult light – night shots, snow

              Use people and objects to make a point in the scene, or to give a sense of scale

              Plan your day/visits with the angle of the sun. Time is money!

              Experiment with different angles, side-lighting, quirky       subjects. Editors want original shots and don’t want to resort to local tourist office pictures which have appeared elsewhere

I'm posting this on Jill's behalf.

Admittedly, the main aim of the title is to catch your attention, but I’ll get back to it later, I promise. Anyway, I've been thinking about the use of similes and metaphors in my writing, and when I dug out some earlier unpublished stories, with a view to refreshing or binning them, I came across some dreadful clangers. Yes. That bad. I'll spare you the details.

In my early writing days I was the master of overwriting – still guilty in first drafts – and most of this was in the use of similes and metaphors. They even spread into my travel articles, and still do, but now I keep them under a tight rein. Less is more, as they say.

Things change. I read books more as a writer than a reader now, however annoying that can be. If I spot a bad simile or metaphor it’s like an alarm bell ringing in my head. Did I mention clichés? Seriously, how often do you find yourself saying 'Forget the flowery language, just get on with the story'? I think this is the test of whether the simile or metaphor works or not. Don't get me wrong, I love a good one. Flowery as you like.

Nowadays, I put as many similes as I want in the first draft, and then go back and  delete them, unless they are one hundred percent right. Sometimes, just removing one word can make a simile work. More often – nothing can. Usually, the spontaneous ones work best, as opposed to those squeezed out like old toothpaste. Sorry! If they are good they add depth and imagery, and originality, and feel satisfying to write. Although too many can have the opposite effect, which is probably why I use fewer and fewer. But I'm happy with that.

If the similes and metaphors don't suit the story or relate to the setting, they jar. For example, I used 'like fresh meat to a crocodile' in a story set in the Aussie outback. Out of context, this might sound ridiculous, but I thought it fitted that particular tale. In the same piece, I used 'like a Ming vase in…' – forget exactly what, but it was overwritten and/or hackneyed and got deleted.

Here is a debatable one by a respected author, admittedly out of context. What do you think?

'We walk through volumes of the unexpressed and like snails leave behind a faint  thread excreted out of ourselves.' (John Updike, "The Blessed Man of Boston")

And this: ‘guilt for my abandoned stepchildren like a small furry bee inside my heart’ (Rani Manicka ''The Rice Mother'')

And to finish, two winners from a 'bad simile' competition, just for fun:

'Her two front teeth looked like a couple of Chiclets that weren't on speaking terms.'

'He sat down heavily, like a Mack truck dumping a load.'

Mm, well…got any better or worse to share? Or how easy is it for you to find the perfect simile?