2. Imagine that you are watching a play. It’s the
middle of the first act and you are getting to know
the characters and their problems. Suddenly, the
playwright runs out on stage and yells, “Do you
see what’s happening? Do you see how her
coldness is behind his infidelity? Have you noticed
his lack of self-confidence? Do you get it?”
3. Of course, you get it. And so do YOUR readers.
Unnecessary supports around your dialogue will
make the strongest dialogue LOOK weak.
Don’t explain your dialogue to your readers.
4. “You can’t be serious,” she said in astonishment.
“I find that difficult to accept,” she said in
astonishment.
She dropped the cup, splattering coffee all over
the floor. “You can’t be serious.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“You pulling my chain, dude?”
5. Percy burst into the zookeeper’s office. Their
callous mistreatment was killing the wombats and
he wasn’t going to stand for it.
“Is something wrong, sir?” the zookeeper said.
“Don’t you realize that you’re killing those poor
innocent creatures, your heartless fascist?” Percy
yelled.
6. “I’m afraid it’s not going very well,” he said grimly.
“Keep scrubbing until you’re finished,” she said
harshly.
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to work up the steam
to do anything at all,” he said listlessly.
7. To tighten his own writing, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
has eliminated adverbs, which in Spanish all have
the ending –mente (-ly in English). A quote from an
interview with Marquez:
“Before Chronicle of a Death Foretold, there are
many. In Chronicle, there is one. After that, in Love,
there are none. In Spanish, the adverb –mente is a
very easy solution. But when you want to use –
mente and look for another form, the other form
always works better.”
8. “Give it to me,” she demanded.
“Here it is,” he offered.
“Is it loaded?” she inquired.
9. “I hate to admit it,” he grimaced.
“Come closer,” she smiled.
“So, you’ve changed your mind,” he chuckled.
10. “I just don’t believe you’d say that, Chet.”
“Well, Hortense, I may have heard wrong, but –”
“Cut it out, Chet. Just cut it out.”
11. “I’d never thought of that before.” Roger walked
over to the fridge and helped himself to a soda.
“But I suppose a good coat of paint really would
work just as well, wouldn’t it?”
12. “You aren’t seriously thinking about putting that trash in your
body, are you?” said a voice from behind me, archly.
I put down a package of Twinkies and turned around. It was Fred
McDermot, a passing acquaintance from work. “Pardon me?” I
said.
“I said, you aren’t going to put that stuff in your body, are you?”
he repeated.
“Fred, I fail to see how it’s any of your business,” I chuckled.
“Paul, I’m just interested in your welfare, that’s all,” he replied.
“Do you know what they put in those things?”
“No, Fred.”
“Neither do I, Paul. That’s the point.”
13. “You aren’t seriously thinking about putting that trash
in your body, are you?”
I put down a package of Twinkies and turned around.
It was Fred McDermot, a passing acquaintance from
work.
“Pardon me?” I said.
“You heard me.”
I chuckled. “Fred, I can’t for the life of me see why this
is any of your business.”
“I’m just thinking of you, that’s all,” he said. “Do you
know what they put in those things?”
“No.”
“Neither do. That’s the point.”
14. From Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry:
“Want some buttermilk?” July asked, going to the
crock.
“No, sir.’ Joe said. He hated buttermilk, but July
loved it so he always asked anyway.
“You ask him that every night,” Elmira said from
the edge of the loft. It irritated her that July came
home and did exactly the same things day after
day.
15. I never thought I’d see the day when I was
thankful for the oak.
I certainly wasn’t thankful this last autumn when I
stood with my rake in the middle of the scraggly
patches of grass that pass for the front yard and
cursed the leaves that, I swear, multiply on their
way to the ground. And come autumn, I’ll
probably stand and curse the tree again.
But for now, when it seems the dog days of the
summer have come to stay forever, the tree is a
positive comfort.
16. In small South Carolina towns, most houses are
built in the shadow of tall trees. Each autumn, the
children charged with yard care curse the leaves
that seem to multiply on their way to the ground.
But in mid-afternoon during the dog days of
August, when the blazing sun takes possession of
the streets and bakes anyone who dares to
challenge it, entire families find solace in the
shade of those same trees.
17. Coral Blake mopped the sweat out of her eyes and
looked up at the dusty underside of the oak. The
dog days of August had come to stay, it seemed,
and like most of the rest of Greeleyville, South
Carolina, she sought refuge from the sun on her
front porch under the oak.
Her children hated that tree. Every fall she’d chase
them out to the scraggly front yard with a rake,
and every fall she’d watch them curse the leaves
that seemed to multiply as they fell. But now, with
her head leaning back against the cool trunk, the
tree seemed like a blessing.
18. 1.It was winter of the year 1853. A large man
stepped out of a doorway.
2.Henry J. Warburton had never much cared for
snowstorms.
3.Henry hated snowstorms.
4.God how he hated these damn snowstorms.
5.Snow. Under your collar, down inside your
shoes, freezing and plugging up your miserable
soul.
19.
20. Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell:
Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men
seldom realized it when caught by her charm as
the Tarleton twins were. In her face were too
sharply blended the delicate features of her
mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and
the heavy ones of her florid Irish father. But it was
an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw.
Her eyes were pale green without a touch of
hazel, starred with bristly black lashes and slightly
tilted at the ends…
21. Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison:
Solid, rumbling, likely to erupt without notice,
Macon kept each member of his family awkward
with fear. His hatred of his wife glittered and
sparkled in every word he spoke to her. The
disappointment he felt in his daughters sifted
down on them like ash, dulling their buttery
complexions and choking the lilt out of what
should have been girlish voices. Under the frozen
heat of his glance they tripped over door sills and
dropped the salt cellar into the yolks of their
poached eggs.
22. Friday’s Child by Georgette Heyer:
The Viscount looked her over. She was a very
young lady, and she did not at this moment
appear to advantage. The round gown she wore
was of an unbecoming shade of pink, and had
palpably come to her at secondhand, since it
seemed to have been made originally for a larger
lady. In her hand she held a crumpled and damp
handkerchief. There were tear stains on her
cheeks, and her wide grey eyes were reddened
and a little blurred.
23. “A Good Man is Hard to Find” by Flannery O’Connor:
(the wife of a diner owner, Red Sammy, speaks first)
“It isn’t a soul in this green world of God’s that you can
trust,” she said. “And I don’t count nobody out of that, not
nobody,” she repeated, looking at Red Sammy.
“Did you hear about that criminal, The Misfit, that’s
escaped?” asked the grandmother.
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he didn’t attract this place
right here,” said the woman. “If he hears about it being
here, I wouldn’t be none surprised to see him. If he hears
it’s two cent in the cash register, I wouldn’t be a tall
surprised if he…”
“That’ll do,” Red Sam said.
24. Naming your story
Titles
Finding the perfect title
25. TRUTH IN FICTION
OVERUSED WORDS
DIALOGUE AND CHARACTERS
SHORT STORY