Sunday, February 23, 2014

Observing & Writing Dialog With Ryan Parmenter

Ryan Parmenter

This week I’m very pleased to introduce you to Ryan Parmenter.

Ryan Parmenter published his debut novel, Hyperbole as an eBook in 2012. The following year, the author-narrated audiobook and the trade paperback formats were released. A creative jack-of-all-trades, Parmenter created the artwork for the cover of Hyperbole and also recorded an album of 7 songs based upon song titles mentioned throughout the book.
Parmenter graduated from the University of Michigan and later graduated from The Second City Conservatory as an improvisational performer along with the woman who would become his wife.
Parmenter lives in Michigan with his wife and a bunch of pets.


First, please tell us a bit about what you write and why dialog is important in your work.

I write because I like stories, and I like the process of constructing stories. Character is the most important aspect of the fiction I write. The plot evolves based upon what the characters want and the challenges they need to face. The plot ought to service the characters, to reveal more about them, show different aspects of them, and to highlight complexity. I try to write three-dimensional characters. Even when a character is there primarily for comic relief—like Ollie or Todd Crabs in Hyperbole—I still feel like they have to be rounded. They have to have backstories and desires, and they have to have moments where they are not funny and can be taken seriously. Dialog is one of the primary devices for revealing the idiosyncrasies and perspectives of my characters. The words that the characters speak are always their words. Dialog can reveal a dialect. It can hint at a level of education or status. And for a writer of comedy, character dialog in reaction to events or to other characters can be the best opportunity for humor and irony.

Listening is an integral piece of "people watching". Do you "people listen" automatically, or do you make a deliberate effort?

I love people watching, and while I am generally not an intentional eavesdropper, if I’m in a public place and someone is making an ass or him- or herself, I’m all ears. Meltdowns are hilarious. I have to assume that the appeal of watching people have meltdowns is the primary reason for the popularity of “reality” TV. But histrionics aside, I do pay attention to speech patterns and cadences and diction. Friends, family, coworkers, service providers, news anchors: There are so many opportunities to capture gems. And I don’t necessarily mean writing down verbatim quotes, but I am constantly noting manners of expression. The ways in which people misuse words. Or the way that some people make statements that always seem to end as questions? And in modern America, I’d bet that if you wrote out the real-world dialog you hear on a daily basis, a vast majority of it would be fragments. We’re too lazy to speak in complete sentences. And we tend to assume that listeners will be able to fill in the words or concepts that we omit.

Humans exchange a lot of information paraverbally, that is, through intonation, pacing/rhythm, volume, and enunciation. What paraverbal cues are you most sensitive or tuned into as an author, an observer, and a participant?

Tone is a big one. Variances in tone can be conveyed by descriptions of pitch and body language. In terms of dialog, tone is can be conveyed by diction, sentence length, whether characters complete their thoughts or interrupt themselves. Slang is a good way to make it immediately casual. Or introduce fancy words to show your characters trying to be formal or pretentious. If a character slurs, mumbles, or mispronounces, that can enhance the characterization or subtext. Of course, volume can convey a lot about characters. Quiet, thoughtful dialog is sweet, while quiet, harsh dialog can be sinister. While I enjoy writing descriptions, in many cases, the more I can convey simply through dialog, the better.

Do you enjoy writing dialog? Is there anything about writing dialog that you find challenging?

I love dialog because I love getting into my characters’ heads. Dialog is the way you show characters expressing themselves, and much like in the real world, some are much more eloquent than others. My goal when writing dialog is for the reader to be able to determine who is speaking without explicitly noting, “said Harland” or “said Rena.” Ideally, the voices will be unique enough in word choice or speech pattern, even without considering the ideas being expressed. Sometimes the biggest challenge can be deciding in a particular scene or moment whether a character should say anything, or whether to let their actions speak for them.

What have you learned about yourself and your relationships by observing real life & fictional dialog?

I’ve learned to deconstruct being a dick! Seriously, though, I have spent a great deal of time figuring out how to write characters I wouldn’t necessarily want to spend time with if they were real. For instance, I might ask myself, “What does it sound like when someone is condescending?” They’re curt, they use harsh words, and sometimes they spell out the obvious because they assume everyone else is stupid. I’ve learned from my characters to avoid saying certain things. For instance, I will probably never again utter the phrase, “Yeah, right” without it being a joke. Some people, and some characters, have learned the art of word economy, and they can express themselves efficiently. Others will go on and on and on and won’t seem sure about when they should stop talking, and they’re never quite sure if their point has been made clearly enough, and five more minutes of nonsense …

Do you have any characters with catchphrases or verbal habits? What are they? How do these personal quirks add depth to your characters?

Harland, the narrator of “Hyperbole,” has such an intense inner monologue that he doesn’t feel the need to say much out loud. Despite the occasional soliloquy, he tends to be concise in dialog and to fall back on asides and one-liners wherever possible. But it’s really a defense mechanism, an extension of insecurity. Meanwhile, a character like Todd Crabs is a bit more of a caricature, speaking his own shorthand, assigning nicknames (“Brub,” “Chooch,” “Plumps”), but it’s still an extension of him and how he prefers to express himself. Rena is not one to take any b.s., and her dialog reflects it. She gets to the point. Nestor is somewhat similar. He has a sense of humor, but he portrays a pragmatism and level-headedness that the others don’t. And Ollie--bless his soul--is a space cadet, and his dialog is always full of comic/tragic naiveté. Poor Ollie gets to speak most of the malapropisms, like Paulie Walnuts from “The Sopranos.”

Do your characters ever interrupt, cross-talk or change the subject? Do you use communication interference in your dialog? Why/Why not?

As the characters are frequently inebriated and selfish, there is a lot of cross-talk, meandering, and poor communication. The core group of friends generally means well toward one another, but none of them have well-developed filters or senses of politeness. There’s one point where Harland is with the others and he is preoccupied thinking about plot twists in video games, and by the time he mentions his favorite example to the group, they’ve moved on to discussing something entirely different. It’s one of many instances where you realize Harland may not be the most reliable narrator. Poor communication is one of the primary plot devices.

Please share with us a dialog gem that you've recently overheard or participated in. What do you think makes this dialog interesting?

I overheard someone in the office where I work say, “We have to spend more time being efficient.” I’m a big fan of contradictions and irony. I have a weird sense of humor.

That one is so good, it sounds like it belongs on a t-shirt!

Please share with us a dialog gem from your own writing. (If published, please share the title & link to purchase site.) What do you think makes this dialog interesting?

Here’s a brief exchange between Harland and his romantic partner, Rena:

Rena looks at me, waiting. I let her wait. Finally, she says, “Harland.”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“Do you agree?” She’s becoming my mother again, stern without anything to back it up.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
“Harland,” she says, “I don’t want you dying for no reason.”
“Dying for a cause is overrated,” I say. “I’d rather die for nothing.”

This is an excerpt from the novel Hyperbole by Ryan Parmenter, available from Amazon as an eBook, paperback, and an unabridged audiobook narrated by the author:http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00H1C8SE0/

I like this simple exchange because it summarizes the tension in their relationship. Harland is being intentionally childish and obstinate. He’s also portraying nihilistic tendencies, whether or not he actually means what he’s saying. You see Rena, is impatient but wanting real input from her partner. I think it’s a cool moment, and it ends with one of Harland’s signature non-sequiturs.

Is there anything else about observing and writing dialog that you’d like to add?

I like to keep an open ear and take notes. I don’t like to use real-world dialogue in fiction, but I have no problem with basing dialogue patterns or character traits on real-world observation. Also, I try to keep exposition through dialog to a minimum. If it’s a big reveal and you can do it through a line or two, I think that works. But I don’t like reading paragraphs of characters divulging plot details to one another, so I try to avoid that in my own fiction. And most importantly, I try to let the dialog be one of the many methods by which flawed characters can reveal even more of their shortcomings and the stuff that makes them (fake) human.
Thanks so much for the interview, Marcy!

It’s been my pleasure, Ryan. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and some great examples of pithy dialog.

Readers, you can find Ryan Parmenter and his work in the following locations:
“Hyperbole” eBook:



“Hyperbole” Paperback:

“Hyperbole” Audiobook:

Amazon Author Page:

“Hyperbole” Book Trailer:

“Hyperbole” on Facebook:

“Hyperbole” on Google+:

“Hyperbole” on Goodreads:

Ryan Parmenter on Twitter:
@RyanCParmenter

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Observing & Writing Dialog With Mariah Warren




Mariah Warren



Unlike every other author in this interview series, I did not meet Mariah Warren on social media. In fact, I met Mariah before social media existed and in a place that didn’t yet have mail service, much less telephones and computers. Not only is Mariah a fellow Alaskan and fellow author, but like me, she largely grew up in the tiny “bush” community of Edna Bay. There aren’t many of us “Edna Bay kids” on the planet and I like to think that our shared culture and experiences make us more like expatriate cousins from a bizarre and miniscule country, than like former neighbors. I’m thrilled to introduce you to my friend, Mariah Warren.

Mariah Warren was born and raised in Alaska, and though work and wanderlust have sent her to far corners of the planet, she still makes her home on the Last Frontier. A lifetime of journaling, as well as non-fiction articles, short stories, and freelance editing, kept her pen busy through years spent primarily under way. In the winter of 2012-2013, ashore after the violent loss of a fishing vessel, a longer piece of writing was conceived: Gray Dawn Breaking, a novel about Alaska, the ocean, and events which permanently alter our perceptions of the world and of ourselves.

Please tell us a bit about what you write and why dialog is important in your work.

First of all, thanks for inviting me to be part of this series! I love writing dialogue, reading great dialogue, and dialoguing about dialogue. Now that I've worn that word out....The majority of my writing has been in the non-fiction realm: journaling, travel writing, essays. About a year ago, I started on a project which turned into a novel-length fiction manuscript. All of a sudden, dialogue was of paramount importance! For me, listening to a character speak is the single most honest view into who that person is. I've also found that my practice in writing this fiction work has given me more confidence to use dialogue in non-fiction writing. It can be tempting to summarize what was said in a given situation, but actual conversation is often more informative AND more interesting.


Listening is an integral piece of "people watching". Do you "people listen" automatically, or do you make a deliberate effort?
Oh, I can't even help it! Having grown up in a rural environment, with very few people around, I sometimes think I failed to develop some sort of filter that would allow me to ignore other people talking. This is occasionally annoying, but probably helps to keep my "dialogue reservoir" filled up to the top!

Humans exchange a lot of information paraverbally, that is, through intonation, pacing/rhythm, volume, and enunciation. What paraverbal cues are you most sensitive or tuned into as an author, an observer, and a participant?
Thank you for asking! This is absolutely one of the most interesting aspects of putting a conversation into written form. So, it's tempting to constantly describe what I'm imagining of the conversation: whether something was said abruptly, sharply, condescendingly, lovingly...the way he quirked his brow, the way she jutted her hip...you get the idea! Unfortunately, unless the piece in question is a screenplay with actor instructions, too much of that business just ends up looking overwrought and amateur-ish. So this is what I'm always looking for, in writing dialogue: the distinct and telling detail. Assuming I've done my job with characterization, assuming the plot is coherent and the relationships between characters somewhat clear, too much detail shouldn't be necessary. We don't need: "I can't believe your father died," Beauregard said sadly (or even, 'Beauregard lamented.' Classier, but still superfluous). I want to see the scene, and look for the cues that I would pick up if I were present. Maybe:
"I can't believe your father died." Beauregard's eyes shone with tears when he finally looked up. Lavinia slipped her hand into his, and they sat that way for a long time, in perfect silence.

Do you enjoy writing dialog? Is there anything about writing dialog that you find challenging?

I do love writing dialogue. It gives me a chance to really watch my characters in action, to hear what they have to say. Like children, even if the writer brings them into the world, they develop minds of their own very quickly!
As I mentioned, I do work at expressing what I see in those moments without overwhelming the reader with detail. I love my characters, I see them so clearly, and I just want to tell you every little-bitty detail of how cute, clever, evil, or sincere they can be! But, to return to the parenthood analogy, not everyone wants to hear all about the adorable face Junior makes when he's on the potty. No one will ever know my characters with the intimacy I do, and I remind myself that it's okay. Dialogue is a window to character, and we as writers get to choose how much the readers see. We must, in fact, decide how much they want or need to see.

What have you learned about yourself and your relationships by observing real life & fictional dialog?

In writing dialogue, the writer has to very closely observe the interactions taking place. Most people realize that in a conversation, more than just words are being exchanged. I've talked a bit about how I try to describe the interlocutors during their time on the proverbial stage, but this goes deeper into the scene--into what I see, when I picture these characters talking. It forces me to really consider how meaning is communicated: the looks, intonations, and word choices that reveal the feelings beneath. This serves as a reminder in my daily life that no matter what I say, I can't expect to rely on words alone. A fight could be laid to rest with the words, "I hate this." The end of a relationship could start with, "I love you."

Do you have any characters with catchphrases or verbal habits? What are they? How do these personal quirks add depth to your characters?

There's a character in Gray Dawn who's a bit of a codger...he's seen a lot of changes in eighty-odd years, and isn't entirely convinced of their worth. He tends to speak of these developments in mild malapropisms, in such a way that it's not entirely clear whether he's mocking technological progress, making fun of himself, or truly doesn't understand contemporary lingo. He is a very humorous and intelligent man, so it's fun to keep the reader (and, admittedly, myself) a little off-balance in this regard. An example:
"It's no secret or anything. It was all in the papers last summer--you could find out at the library, or on the...computers. In the net. Someone told me they read all about it, 'on line.' " He shook his head, the silvery fluff of his hair floating gently. "Can find just about anything there, I guess. We all think we have secrets, but they're probably posted up somewhere or other."


Do your characters ever interrupt, cross-talk or change the subject? Do you use communication interference in your dialog? Why/Why not?

I probably use these examples of interference much less frequently than they actually occur in daily life. Partly, this is because a written conversation is necessarily more concise and to the point. Our page count is finite. Readers would get bored; if you don't believe me, try reading a transcribed conversation (even an interesting one). Additionally, it is a quirk of my personality that I am deeply irked by these habits in real life. If I'm trying to say something, and I've thought it carefully through, being interrupted halfway is very frustrating. Maybe not ballpoint-pen-to-the-jugular enraging, but enough to maybe enact a teeny little stage play in some dusty back auditorium of my brain. Possibly featuring ballpoint pens. Likewise cross-talk, or a subject changed before its time. For these reasons, I usually save interference for times of tension in my writing; the speakers are angry, or desperate, or in a tremendous hurry. I guess I might use these habits to illustrate a character who was intended to be obnoxious, but so far I haven't invented that person!

Please share with us a dialog gem that you've recently overheard or participated in. What do you think makes this dialog interesting?

Okay, second-hand. My friend Leilani was recently on a flight grounded by poor weather, and spent over an hour as the unwilling audience to a man in the next row. He talked non-stop, alternating between his hapless seat-mates and his cell phone. Every word was negative, and he presented himself as an expert on airplane mechanics, airport procedures, and even weather patterns. When they were finally preparing for takeoff, she heard him say: "I have to go now--we're gonna try and take off. Thank gawd people can't talk on phones in-flight--can you imagine anything more annoying? It would be worse than a loud kid in the plane. It would be worse than those seat-mates who can't seem to shut up." This dialog gem is both hilarious and valuable. It illustrates the personality of this anonymous blowhard, and ultimately makes him the butt of his own accidental joke. Perfect.

That’s hilarious and cringe-worthy. For his sake, I hope it was a stunt or homework for an Abnormal Behavior class.

Please share with us a dialog gem from your own writing. (If published, please share the title & link to purchase site.) What do you think makes this dialog interesting?

In the following excerpt, a primary character speaks of his parents' unconventional relationship. It's from Gray Dawn Breaking, which isn't published yet, but thanks for asking! I like this fragment because it was from a writing moment in which I felt very connected to the characters. It also illustrates Lander's soft-spoken but astute way of observing the world.
She couldn't help asking the question on her mind. "Do you think they were in love, or did they come together out of love for you?"
Lander's eyes flicked back to hers, then away. "I remember he called her 'my little lady,' and brushed her hair in the evenings. He must have been the only man who ever made her feel dainty. She taught him how to clean a fish, sharpen a hook, how to steer the boat close to the rocks, where the big king salmon hide. She gave him every piece of the life she loved so much, but when he put them all together, the picture he saw was quite different. When he left in the autumn she would never cry, but would stand on the dock and watch the float plane until it disappeared into the clouds. They used to hug with me held between them, hanging around one of their necks until the pressure of their chests was so strong, I could let go and just be held there. I don't know any good definition of love, in words. But that felt like love. It felt like enough."

Is there anything else about observing and writing dialog that you’d like to add?

For observing dialogue, whether real or fictional, I just try to watch and listen with great awareness for those telling details. I consider what is going on in the conversation, other than just the words, and what exactly clued me in to those subtexts.
When I'm writing, I try to vividly visualize the scene. I'm just a sneaky eavesdropper, and I set the characters in a space together and let them go at it. I'm like a non-interfering referee.
Hello, character one. Hello, character two. You've met, and then some. I know you both, and you know each other. Here's the situation. Now, go for it!

Find Mariah at: 
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If you’re an author and interested in participating in this blog series, please contact me at marcylpeska@gmail.com to discuss scheduling (I have openings in April) and other details.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Observing & Writing Dialog With L. Darby Gibbs

L. Darby Gibbs

Today, I’m pleased to introduce you to my writing pal L. Darby Gibbs (a.k.a. Elldee). We were introduced on Twitter in 2012 by @Belinda_Pollard and swiftly realized that we are meant to be friends, to share dog stories and to exchange manuscripts.

L. Darby Gibbs is a lady writer, dedicated teacher, proud mother, emotional support for two Labrador ladies, and partner to the nicest man in the world (been a founding member of the happily married group of southern California for more than 30 years); of course, not necessarily in that order or any order on any particular day.  She is an Indie author of two science fiction novels, one anthology of short stories, and one non-fiction writer's reference book, working on book five and convincing several others to wait their turn.  Don't struggle with deciding if you should call her L. or Darby.  Elldee works just fine.


First, please tell us a bit about what you write and why dialog is important in your work.

I write soft science fiction which means my focus is on the characters and their interactions with each other, so dialogue is essential.  I find that genuine dialogue reveals character, personal perception, and action to the reader in ways that description alone cannot.  Often my characters are facing situations that challenge their views of themselves.  Well-written dialogue helps reveal that internal struggle.

Listening is an integral piece of "people watching". Do you "people listen" automatically, or do you make a deliberate effort?

I am deliberate in my listening, but it is an impersonal observation. I am cataloging the tone, the word choice, the body language that goes with the process of communication, storing up these glimpses into human nature like a chipmunk with loaded cheek pouches.  I am not tasting them; I'm harvesting for later use.

Cheek pouches for writers. I like this idea!

Humans exchange a lot of information paraverbally, that is, through intonation, pacing/rhythm, volume, and enunciation. What paraverbal cues are you most sensitive or tuned into as an author, an observer, and a participant?

I certainly am aware of paraverbal cues when I am communicating with others as a writer or in daily communication.  As a teacher, I have to be aware of this aspect of communication.   Different students call for different modes of interaction with me, so my intonation, volume and rhythm will change to enhance that interaction according to each child's personality.  One child not paying attention may take correction with just me drawling out his or her name, no further wording needed, while another student requires me to speak in a rhythmic cadence slowly raising the volume as I approach him or her.  But in writing, though I do notice authors using stuttering, the pause, emphasis though italics, ellipses for incomplete thought, and dashes for interruption in their works, I think these should be used sparingly.  Well drawn characters carry their speaking style through word choice, actions, demonstrated personality, etc.

Do you enjoy writing dialog? Is there anything about writing dialog that you find challenging?

I do love to write dialogue – it plays out not just in my head but bits and pieces flit out my mouth in spurts and runs as I imagine the motivations behind the words and how they are affected and perceived by the receiver.  I especially look for opportunities to misunderstand a statement. We all do it, hearing the first words said and drawing conclusions before we hear what follows – sometimes deliberately looking for opportunity to "misread" the intent.  When characters do this, whole new avenues of understanding and misunderstanding open up. The deliberate fight begins because the character is angry and wants to challenge someone, anyone, to get out the internal tension at any cost.  The individual regrets it later, but in the moment it reveals so much about relationships and the true struggle within.  Will the receiving character be able to see what is behind the attack or will they be pulled in, their own reasoning compromised? 
The most challenging part of dialogue I find is when the characters run off on a point I had not planned for.  But such moments are also a delightful proof for how amazing the human brain is. I had my goal – my character has his agenda too – in the end the two intentions miraculously come together.  Example from Next Time We Meet: Mick and Emily need to get ready to time hop to 2282.  Mick isn't crazy about the costumes they need to wear to fit in.  Their time in the costuming room turned into a romp that really fleshed out not just the costumes themselves and what the costuming room provided but more about the characters.  We (Mick, Emily and I) had quite the giggle over the whole experience.

What have you learned about yourself and your relationships by observing real life & fictional dialog?

When I was a very young writer, I often resorted to basing my characters on actors in movies I had seen.  I had little personal experience, observation and analysis to go on.  But as I have aged, I find my characters are often amalgams of people I know or have had the opportunity to observe at length. I recently finished the redraft of Next Time We Meet, book 3 in my Students of Jump series.  I was reviewing interaction between the main characters Emily and Mick and realized a lot of my father went into Mick.  Both men ride the edge of amusement, no matter how torturous an event, and they view themselves as men who are not capable of facing difficult situations, yet when such events take place, they do not hide or pass blame – they stride forward through the bullets then class themselves as cowards because they felt fear.  Writing Mick gave me insight into my father and his perception of his time in the Navy in WWII.

Mick is one of my favorite characters in your books. I think I’d like your dad very much.

Do you have any characters with catchphrases or verbal habits? What are they? How do these personal quirks add depth to your characters?

Jove (In Times Passed) is the observer type and makes people uncomfortable because he watches them so closely and speaks in undercurrents – if he is right about a deception, the person he is speaking with feels guilty because they understand what he is intimating which they wouldn't if they were innocent.  Double meaning is his middle name.  Ondine  (In Times Passed) is flighty and excitable.  She tends to jump (both physically and mentally) to the conclusion of a conversation, leaving her friends to finish the back and forth process in their minds to catch up to where she has leaped.  She leaves out all the introductory material.

Do your characters ever interrupt, cross-talk or change the subject? Do you use communication interference in your dialog? Why/Why not?

In the book I am currently drafting (Testing Time), Sara and her friend Stilt naturally fall into triple-decker conversations discussing three topics at once. They ask and answer questions, remark on events around them, and discuss issues that annoy them in rapid succession before the other person responds in kind.  The number of conversations they carry on at once has a direct connection to how well they are getting along.
In In Times Passed, Brent meets his girlfriend's brother Mick and finds himself deliberately goaded.  Mick keeps calling him "Pete" and asking him questions about things he knows nothing about while Miranda repeatedly pinches him every time he tries to politely back out of the conversation.  He doesn't want to offend the brother, nor does he want to get angry with his girlfriend in front of the brother.  Good intensions must go awry.  The pinches interfere with his efforts to manage this meeting, and he has to call them both out on their efforts to maneuver him into meeting their expectations or failing them.  Poor guy, he gets a little sore at the two of them.

Please share with us a dialog gem that you've recently overheard or participated in. What do you think makes this dialog interesting?

Grocery stores make me uncomfortable because I feel sympathy for the cashier.  I am certain they have been given a mandate to talk to each and every customer.  The cashier is usually a woman, and she speaks with each customer as they load the conveyer up with their selections and prepare to pay.    I always feel sorry for them and try to participate in these false friendly dialogues.  "I've never seen this sauce before.  What do you put it on?"  "Oh, it is wonderful with salad, bits of crab, sunflower seeds, shredded broccoli, and such."  "I have to try that.  Was it in produce or in the dressing aisle?"  The whole time we're talking, she's running the food through the price grabber, and I am standing and watching my husband fill the cart as the food is bagged.  I'll nod goodbye and forget her face and she mine in about ten seconds.  We were real people talking.  I was participating in the conversation and viewed her as another human being trying to pay the bills and not be bored by her job.  I was with her in the conversation, but I wasn't engaged.   If someone had been watching, what would they have seen?  One woman running a register in a swift, organized manner and another shifting attention to and from the cashier in case she speaks again and back to her husband because movement draws our attention, and she can't offend him by staring because he is someone she knows, whereas if she looks ahead at the next customer, he might look up and think he has his hair looking like Einstein's because he can't stop running his hands through it.  Eye contact with the cashier is impossible as she is too busy looking at jars of green beans, searching for fruit tags through plastic and putting heavy items in with things that won't get squished by them.  So all that is left is the husband swinging bags into the cart in his usual packing behavior, shifting this one with that as each bag calls for particular placement: heavies on the bottom, light or soft on the top.  And the cashier moves on to the next mandated conversation.

Please share with us a dialog gem from your own writing. (If published, please share the title & link to purchase site.) What do you think makes this dialog interesting?
In Times Passed, Book 1 of Students of Jump

Miranda turned away, retrieving her box of supplies from the path where Brent had laid it down.  Then she walked along the path until she came to a small area free of trees, well-padded with layers of brown leaves from the previous fall.  She sat down and watched as Brent came and joined her.  Once he was seated, she looked down and said, “Have you ever experienced a time when you've met someone and know immediately that they are a best friend yet to become or a mentor, teacher or a girlfriend, and you are certain that if the moment continues it will happen.”
Brent leaned close to hear her soft voice.  He could not see her eyes, hidden as they were by her hair, her head facing down as though the hands lying limp in her lap were all she could find the strength to look at.  Silence was all he could give her.
She continued, “You've only just met and spoken for a few moments, but you know this.”  Her voice a whisper, she said, “But maybe the person moves away or has to leave early or you take another job, and you know what you lost even though it never came to be?  You can feel it like a string forever tying you to that moment, that person who somehow will always flow in the same mental stream, take the same emotional parallel course, that if you were to meet them again the connection would remain unbroken, but because it never got past that moment of existence, never developed past the sudden inspiring thought, you always feel it, a pain of loss you cannot explain.”
For a moment she looked up at him, and they were facing each other, straining to hear, straining to speak every precise word.  He expected to see tear-filled eyes, but hers were clear, deeply compelling but not sorrowful as he anticipated.  She was explaining something important.  He heard her say, “I have had those moments.  Years separate them.  Those kinds of connections are so rare, the moment so intoxicating and sure, yet every time, I have wondered if the other person felt it, too.  I wanted to ask them but feared such questions would destroy that connection, as if it could only grow if given a free hand, not questioned or begged into existence.  The conception recognized, but any amount of encouragement would drive it away.”  She sighed and looked back at her hands.  “I never know what the correct move is, just that I must make a move.” She stood up, smiled and headed down the path to her brother's home.
Brent stayed sitting in the leaves, hearing over and over her words, knowing he had to leave in a week.

What I like most about this dialogue is that only one person is speaking, but two people are fully involved with what is being said.  The silence provided by Brent makes it clear he cannot, at least for the moment, admit he knows what she is talking about.  And what she does not say is just as clear.  They are drawn together, but he is unable to acknowledge it, and she does not want to scare him away, yet she also does not want him to leave not knowing how she feels.  And she knows he is going to leave even though he hasn't said so yet.

 L. Darby Gibbs is the author of Students of Jump: In Times Passed, No-Time Like the Present, Gardens in the Cracks & Other Stories, and The Little Handbook of Narrative Frameworks.
Twitter: @LDarbyGibbs
Google+:  +L. Darby






If you’re an author and are interested in participating in this blog series, please contact me at marcylpeska@gmail.com to discuss scheduling (I have openings in April) and other details.