INTERIOR DIALOGUE by Kidd Wadsworth
December 25, 2023 by Kidd Wadsworth in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as ambiguity, body movement, humor, interior dialogue
My main issue with fiction, written in first person, is interior dialogue. Often interior dialogue is self-serving—or rather author-serving. Take this passage from The Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard:
I’m an accident. I’m a lie. And my life depends on maintaining the illusion.
The character is talking to herself to explain stuff to the reader. This pops me out of the story. It’s unreal dialogue. Very few of us have such cogent thoughts. Instead, our thoughts are entwined with our actions. Our body, our emotions and our thoughts are jumbled together. I’ve attempted to rewrite this passage below.
I tried not to let her see how much I hated her, but I could barely breathe.
I get it. I’ve got to lie for you.
My hand clinched itself into a fist.
Interior dialogue also often lacks ambiguity. People neither move nor think in a straight line. Our writing should mimic that. The reason it often doesn’t is that our real thoughts, like real dialogue would be uninteresting and/or confusing. As readers we want the condensed version. If you’ve ever seen a transcript of an FBI wire-tap you understand. I feel so sorry for those FBI agents. Most of that stuff—a good 99%–is boring and repetitious.
“Should we a . . . a . . . go to Denny’s or—”
“I hate Denny’s. Don’t forget your wallet.”
“Ok, ok, maybe . . . what’s that place that’s orange on the inside?”
“All I’m saying is, I’m not paying for your ass. You mean Panera?”
Of course, this enlightening conversation is taking place while the agents are listening for details about the next bombing attempt. It could be hours before they hear anything remotely interesting like:
“Did you pick the stuff up?”
So, obviously, we can’t write dialogue exactly the way it occurs in real life. Not if we want anyone, except our moms, to read our stories. But when interior dialogue is too polished, it stops being real.
Most interior dialogue also lacks humor. Humor inserts itself into our lives frequently. Yet, because our characters are constantly saving the world, running for their lives, or at least obsessing over which lipstick will make the love-of-their-life finally notice them, we delete the humor. This is a mistake. Humor breaks the tension, but more importantly, if our character is still willing to laugh, especially at themselves, it can draw the reader in, simultaneously making our character more likeable and more believable.
Finally, interior dialogue tends to suffer from monotony. In other words, the character repeats herself. Again, from The Red Queen:
I can’t do anything but steal.
And
I’m a coward.
I am really tired of hearing this character put herself down. These two thoughts are excellent candidates for humor. Consider my attempt:
I’m a coward and a thief. Across the room I spot my next mark. Tall and clean—obviously, he can afford water for a bath. Well at least I’m not a cowardly thief. My fingers are literally itching. I hope he doesn’t smell me coming.
So, here’s the list:
- No info dumps.
- Entwine the dialogue with body movement.
- Add a smidgeon of confusion or exhaustion or forgetfulness.
- Add humor.
Happy Writing!
Kidd
You’ll find some of Kidd’s stories in the following books.
How NOT to Write in Twelve Hard Steps*
May 13, 2023 by Bethlehem Writers Group in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley tagged as coffee, humor, Marianne H Donley, Motivational, writing
All the members of Bethlehem Writers Group are fast at work on the 2023 Bethlehem Writer Roundtable Short Story Award. (Winners will be announced soon.) So we’re rerunning a column from 2017 on How Not to Write in Twelve Hard Steps. We hope you enjoy it.
This was going to be a blog about how to write with a day job.
Unfortunately, writing with a day job is incredibly easy. You simply keep writing material with you at all time. Paper and pencil work as well as an iPad. Then when you find a block of time (like I usually have to wait for that student who never shows up for a scheduled appointment or arriving hours early for my appointment because the 60 freeway is completely and inexplicably free from traffic) you write. After dishes are done and the family is watching reruns on TV, you write. When you awaken hours before the rest of the world, you write. I imagined my whole blog would be one word long:
Write.
That would be the world’s shortest blog. In addition, I suspected I would be preaching to the choir. People who write and have day jobs know this. Who else would care? Maybe, I should blog about something else. But what?
Inspiration struck while I wandered the local bookstore and sipping my venti café mocha I noticed a whole wall of thick serious books on how to write everything from baby picture books to novels to true-crime police procedurals. Stuck in the middle of all this writing information were two thin books on How NOT to Write.
Heck, not even Nora can want to write all day every day. I would have thought there would be a bit more information on how not to write. Constant writing must be some type of mental illness or at the very least a nasty bad habit. Surely, there must be tons of books on breaking such a habit. I looked. There wasn’t. Just two tiny little books all alone in the vast sea of heavy writing advice.
Clearly, not writing was a topic few writers were comfortable discussing. I’m pretty brave. I can handle controversy. I’ll write a blog on how not to write. I could come up with a set of rules. Break new ground. Give out sage advice.
So here it is:
How Not to Write in Twelve Hard Steps. *
1. Pay attention, this is important. Not writing is the hardest work you will ever do. It is not for the faint of heart. Not writing takes planning, dedication, and a tenacity that many writers lack. Don’t try it unless you have the necessary backbone.
2. To not write you must get up early in the morning. The perfect time is 4:30 A.M. but for you sleepy heads 5:00 A.M. will work as well. If you sleep until 8, half the day is gone and you may as well just waste the rest by writing.
3. To not write you must have a full pot of coffee. Dedicated non-writers program their coffee pots so they can start their day with a fresh cup as soon as they leap out of bed. I suspect that tea drinkers can’t help themselves and start writing as soon as the tea bag hits the trash can, so if you really want to not write break your tea drinking habit immediately.
4. To not write you must have an outfit. You can write in your PJs and no one will care. Not writing takes more style, especially if you want to avoid pointed questions about your mental health. Your outfit can’t just be jeans and a tee-shirt unless of course, you’re male. Females must have a complete, color-coordinated outfit with jewelry, makeup, and styled hair. For women, I strongly advise pantyhose and two-inch heels as well. For men, not shaving is NOT an option.
5. To not write you must have a clean office or not-writing space. If your space is messy and cluttered, then you must take the time to make it tidy. Organizing it would be even better. I recommend categorizing all the bookshelves in your house by subject and author. Should you use the kitchen as your office, alphabetizing your spice rack while you’re at it is always an excellent idea. It wouldn’t hurt to get some of those cute little bins for all your rubber bands and paper clips. You should also consider sharpening all your pencils and testing all your pens to see if they still work. However, cleaning the bathroom or doing laundry is a bit excessive. Should you find yourself contemplating such work, just give up and write. Let’s face it if you’re going to work that hard you may as well get some recognition for it. Completing your manuscript and sending it out will, at the very least, get you an RWA Pro pin and a round of applause at the next chapter meeting. Only your mother will notice whether or not you clean the bathroom.
6. To not write you must play computer solitaire until you win. None of that two-game only nonsense; this takes a real commitment. You must win. Four Suit Spider Solitaire is an excellent choice for those truly dedicated to not writing. Less adventuresome types can try the Two Suit version or Free Cell. However, should you select One Suit Spider and not win in 30 seconds or less, well, just don’t tell me. I firmly believe everyone I know is smart enough to get an advanced degree in rocket science if only they had the time. Shattering my world view like that is just plain cruel.
7. To not write you must build into your schedule time for physical exercise. As I mentioned above, not writing is hard work. Drinking coffee, while playing Free Cell, in your spanking clean office, and keeping your outfit stylish is quite emotionally draining. If you are not careful you could actually get bored and open up your WIP. Your whole day of not writing will be shot to heck. Walking around the block, especially if you live on a steep hill should help.
8. To not write, I must caution you, taking two dogs for a walk as your scheduled physical activity will invariably set you right back on the writing path. How you may ask? Two dogs are not going to agree on speed, direction, or when to leave odorous land mines for you to pick up. This lack of coordination on their part will provide comic relief at your expense for your neighbors. If one of them says something like, “Martha, ya got to come see this” while you, of course, are in the middle of the street, tangled up in dog leashes attached to a white dog going North and a black dog going South, juggling three baggies of land mines, a pouch of special doggie treats, the training clicker that supposed to help train the dogs, but actually makes the black dog cry and the white dog sit until he gets to eat all the treats. Well, can plotting this neighbor’s death be far behind? If he’s going to die, you’re going to have to think of a better reason then laughing at you to kill him. Then you’re going to need several characters who also want him dead for equally good reasons, and finally, the proper sleuth and her love interest will just pop right into your head. The next thing you know a whole series will be in the planning stages and you won’t be able to not write for months.
9. To not write you must have a not writing buddy or sponsor. This buddy is someone you can call any time of the day or night whenever that uncontrollable urge to break out Chapter Four and fix it threatens. Your mother or sisters cannot be your not writing buddy. This is considered cheating as it is much too easy to get them chatting and waste valuable not writing time. No, your buddy must be trustworthy and kind and also dedicated to not writing. She must intuitively know when not to ask how you worked out that problem you accidentally but cleverly wrote into Chapter Eight. She should NEVER tell you she’s finished her WIP. She should always know when to invite you to Starbucks for venti mochas or to Nordstrom’s for a good day of shoe shopping. Shoe shopping is, by the way, the only shopping for which you can indulge without guilt.
10. All not writing writers should know that guilt free shoe shopping is a rule. I think it was left over from the Regan administration. Subversive media types, probably male, tried to kill this rule with cruel stories featuring Imelda Marcos and her shoe closet. (Can you imagine the press if she has attended a public event wearing pre-worn shoes? The press coverage would have rivaled the media frenzy surrounding a certain female prosecutor and her new hair cut.) More sensible wisdom prevailed and shoes are officially guilt free. I must point out that as a corollary to this rule, any other type of shopping is not only riddled with real stomach turning guilt, and it requires an actual paycheck. This will naturally require you finish that book, not a good situation for your not writing goals.
11. To not write you should avoid the Internet like the plague, especially emails. Some people think the Internet is the perfect not writing tool. They are sadly mistaken. Consider, if you will, the simple task of checking your emails. You are going to get them from your weak-willed friends who are writing. Those people are unfortunately smart. Good writing ideas follow them around like ants at a picnic and they SHARE. Read one email and you’re going to get enough ideas to keep you writing for the rest of your natural life and that of your youngest child’s. You’ll have to make a pack with the devil just to finish. Really, do you want to risk your immortal soul just for email? And if that wasn’t bad enough, they’ll answer your emails by says, “Gee that idea would make a great (pick one) book, novel, short story, article, online class, workshop.”
12. To not write you should also drop out of all your critiques groups. (See above for the primary reason.) Secondary reason: Every conversation will start with, “So how’s the writing?” You’ll feel guilty. You’ll write. That clever accident in Chapter Eight, they’ll not only fix it, they’ll give you enough material for three sequels, two novellas, and cookbook. You’ll feel guilty. You’ll write.
*This was originally titled Twelve Easy Steps, but someone recently complained that I say everything is easy. She pointed out that if I would just say things were hard she would feel heaps better when she figured out how the heck to do it. When I tell her it’s easy, she gets no sense of accomplishment. Heaven knows I want people to have a real sense of accomplishment when not writing.
Marianne H. Donley makes her home in Pennyslvania with her husband and son. She is a member of Bethlehem Writers Group and Sisters in Crime. When Marianne is NOT not writing, she might be writing short stories, funny romances or quirky murder mysteries, but this could be a rumor.
Books from Bethlehem Writers Group
Trash Day by Kidd Wadsworth
January 29, 2023 by Kidd Wadsworth in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as humor, kidd wadsworth, Neighbors, short story, trash day
My neighbor, Sterling, complains. It seems I don’t bring my trash cans up promptly. But hey, I’ve got a life, and they’re TRASH CANS!
I’ve got a big brain, too. One morning as I watched Sterling take his trash to the curb and leave for work, I got an idea, a how-the-Grinch-stole-Christmas-idea. I grinned and patted my little dog on the head.
As the garbage truck rounded the corner, I ran down to the curb and drug my neighbor’s still-full garbage cans back up his driveway. When the truck had passed by, I drug them down again.
That evening, eager to see Sterling’s expression, I left work early and returned to find him standing at the curb gazing bewildered at the trash still in his trash cans while mine, and everyone else’s, were clearly empty. The next week, he put his heaping cans at the curb. Quickly, I once again hauled them back up his driveway, returning them to the curb when the garbage truck had passed.
That night, his shouting rocked the neighborhood. “No, they’re not picking up my trash! It’s been two weeks! 110 Paxinosa Avenue!” I felt sorry for the trash guys. Well—almost.
The next week, he had two cans full of trash and three extra bags. It was a trash party! I crossed my fingers, praying he wouldn’t wait around for the truck. He paced on the sidewalk, but after several glances at his cell phone, he got in his light blue Prius, and drove away. I’d barely gotten the trash up his driveway when I heard the truck pull around the corner. On a hunch, I stowed the cans inside his garage and snuck out the back gate.
Wow, talk about dedicated. Those garbage guys actually walked up his driveway and looked around for the cans. They clearly had a note in their hands. They checked his address. Knocked on his door. All this for trash. Impressive.
When they left, I put the cans and the bags at the curb. Took two trips. That night, a volcano erupted next door. I felt a little guilty—not a lot guilty—but a little guilty. I mean, I felt guilty in between giggles.
On trash day eve, nightmares of my neighbor assaulting me with a garbage can lid and a turkey bone rocked my sleep. I woke bleary eyed, to see my neighbor standing at the curb, surrounded by trash. I decided it was time I fessed up. About then, the garbage guys arrived. I ducked behind my window curtains. It was ugly! The shouting, the claims of innocence, “There was no trash!” Shall I speak of the birds shot in the air, the words beginning with … well you get the picture.
About a week later, my neighbor had a backyard barbeque. I brought beer. There were four of us neighbors (right, left and across the street), beers in hand, feet on Sterling’s brick retaining wall, when Sterling told the story.
“No?”
“Really?”
I thought no one knew. But everyone has windows facing the street. When Sterling went inside for more chips, Frank winked at me. Mark held out his hand. “Fifty, or I tell him now.”
I paid.
*
Occasionally, I try humor. Let me know if I got it right.
You can find some of Kidd’s stories in the following anthologies.
Isn’t It Bromantic–A Review
April 24, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Book Reviews tagged as humor, Isn't It Bormantic, Lyssa Kay Adams, romantic comedy, The Bromance Book Club, Vlad and Elena
Isn’t it Bromantic
Bromance Book Club 4
Lyssa Kay Adams
Berkley
Available July 20, 2021
978-0593332771
With his passion for romance novels, it was only a matter of time before Vlad wrote one.
Buy Links
About the Book
Elena Konnikova has lived her entire adult life in the shadows. As the daughter of a Russian journalist who mysteriously disappeared, she escaped danger the only way she knew how: She married her childhood friend, Vladimir, and moved to the United States, where he is a professional hockey player in Nashville.
Vlad, aka the Russian, thought he could be content with his marriage of convenience. But it’s become too difficult to continue in a one-sided relationship. He joined the Bromance Book Club to learn how to make his wife love him, but all he’s learned is that he deserves more. He’s ready to create his own sweeping romance—both on and off the page.
The bros are unwilling to let Vlad forgo true love—and this time they’re not operating solo. They join forces with Vlad’s neighbors, a group of meddling widows who call themselves the Loners. But just when things finally look promising, Elena’s past life intrudes and their happily ever after is cast into doubt.
About the Author
Lyssa Kay Adams is an award-winning journalist who gave up the world of true stories to pen all-the-feels romances featuring sexy heroes and women who always get the last word. Lyssa lives in Michigan with her family and an anxiety-ridden Maltese who steals food and buries it around the house and who will undoubtedly be a character in a future book. Keep up with Lyssa on Twitter at @LyssaKayAdams.
Review
It’s no secret that I have enjoyed all of Lyssa Kay Adams’ book, but I especially love her Bromance Book Club series. They are laugh out loud funny, yet they manage to include complex subjects like failed marriages, sexual harassment, and family secrets. Isn’t It Bromantic is no exception.
Elena and Vlad have a modern marriage of convenience. She wants out and he wants a genuine marriage—what could go wrong?
Elena is wounded but strong. She’s used to being overlooked and ignored. While she’s convinced she doesn’t deserve Vlad, she doesn’t let anyone—not even Vlad walk all over her.
Vlad (also known as the Russian), may be my favorite character in the entire series. He’s just adorable, and he’s writing a romance novel! (I may have cheered when I read the tagline for the book: With his passion for romance novels, it was only a matter of time before Vlad wrote one.) This man seriously believes in romance, and he’s determined to have one of his own.
The Book Club bros, meddling neighbors, and a dog and cat who just show up every day for Vlad’s attention add to the humor. And seriously, the Cheese Man had better get his own book.
Isn’t It Bromantic is smart, heartfelt, and hysterical. You will laugh and cry—sometimes in the same scene. Lyssa hit a grand slam with the fourth installment of her series.
Available July 20, 2021, you can order Isn’t It Bromantic using one of the following Buy Links:
Signs and Dart Guns
July 18, 2020 by Kidd Wadsworth in category Writing tagged as humor
You know those signs on doors? One says “In” and one says “Out”? But exactly half of the time, I think those signs are wrong. Stay with me here. Aren’t you always going “In”? If you’re always going thru the door, and you can’t go thru something unless you’re “In” it, you should always be going “In”. I mean, theoretically, you could be going “Out” once you’ve passed the halfway point. But unless we want the signs to electronically change when we pass exactly halfway over the threshold, we should always go “In” the “In” door, regardless of whether we are entering or leaving a building because we are always going “In” the door itself. These subtleties appear to be lost on sign makers. Many times I’ve been inside a building and I’ve tried to exit by the “In” door. Nope, won’t budge. Inevitably, a bunch of well-meaning people will point to the “In” sign over my head. Yeah, like I didn’t see it!
I’ve had a love/hate relationship with signs most of my adult life. Take those diamond signs that classify chemicals. You know, the ones that say things like hazardous or oxidizer. I love those signs. I think we should use those signs to classify people. The friend who whispers about you behind your back—Toxic. The boss that plays video games on his computer all day. Obviously, an inert substance. How about the person that keeps nagging and nagging until you give in? Corrosive. Then there’s my neighbor—Irritant. Know anyone that’s explosive? I think we should abolish the entire field of psychology and just hire those sign guys to observe people and stick colored diamonds on everyone’s forehead.
But more than bad signage I detest bad drivers. That’s why, in addition to changing half of the “In” and “Out” signs, and hiring thousands of chemists to observe and classify the population, I believe every licensed driver should be issued a traffic dart gun. Here’s my idea. When you get your driver’s license, the state would give you a dart gun with three darts. These darts would have super strong suction cups on the end. When you see someone committing an obviously stupid, illegal, driving maneuver, you’d pull out the ole dart gun and stick one to the offender’s car. Three darts; automatic ticket. See a car with fifteen darts on it? Hey, it’s time to pull over, get out of the way, and let that dude drive on by. I’d even be willing to pay for my dart gun. Wow, a new source of revenue for the state. Need more darts? Make your check out to the IRS.
Why am I telling you all these things? Haven’t you guessed? November is coming up. I’m running for office. Yes, you too can have correct signage and dart guns! Vote for Kidd Wadsworth.
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