themselves to seeing things she shouldn't, to discovering facts that others want hidden, to making deductions from animal-related clues that others might miss. Look hard at the specifics of her job, and they will suggest all kinds of plot developments.
Or take another exotic example: that wax museum costumer (I'm fond of this job). What does a costumer do? Research into authentic period costumes, including acquiring actual old buttons, fabric, shawls, dresses. This could send her poking around attics, warehouses, estate sales. Perhaps she's a real wheeler-dealer who tries to always get there early to make a presale deal with whomever it takes to sell her those buttons once worn by Princess Charlotte, or that Revolutionary War uniform from somebody's great-great-great-great-great grandfather. But what else does she find while poking around? And who knows she's doing it?
Many interesting possibilities!
Even if your character works in a conventional office, his job can provide plot developments. Ted Kramer, for instance, the protagonist of Avery Corman's Kramer Versus Kramer, sells advertising space in magazines. The novel isn't about his job; it's about divorce and parenthood. Still, Corman makes good use of the volatility of advertising to add tension to Ted's situation. The sole support of his young son Billy, Ted loses his job during a company merger. He searches hard and finds another. During the custody hearing he's laid off a second time, greatly imperiling his case. Corman shows us Ted's heroic efforts to find another job within twenty-four hours.
In addition, how much Ted earns directly affects such plot incidents as hiring a housekeeper to take care of Billy, affording lawyers, even dating the second time around.
Do your character's job duties, industry conditions, work stresses or salary level suggest any incidents for your novel? If not, perhaps the character needs a career change.
SUMMARY: BE A FULL-SERVICE EMPLOYMENT AGENCY
• Find your character a job that characterizes his personality, class and talents.
• Further characterize him by his attitude toward his work.
• Choose jobs you know a lot about—or can learn about.
• Include enough realistic details about the job to make it seem as real as your protagonist does.
• Use the character's job to suggest plot complications and/or resolutions.
In Karen Joy Fowler's wonderful novel Sarah Canary, the protagonist never speaks. Not a word. Not for 290 pages. And Fowler succeeds in characterizing her anyway.
Most of us, fortunately, do not have to labor under such a burden. We have a powerful tool to let readers know who our characters are. We have dialogue. ''How forcible are right words!'' says Job (6:25), and so they are.
However, not all dialogue is created equal. Mediocre dialogue can do more harm than good: by boring your reader, by misleading him, by offending him or by convincing him that none of these characters has a single spark of genuine life. (If you write really terrible dialogue, he may think the same thing about the author.)
So how do you write good dialogue? And after you have, how do you give it to the reader: in large unbroken chunks, or intercut with descriptions of gestures, voices, surroundings? And what about dialect—does it help or hurt?
Dialogue is a complex subject. This isn't surprising when you consider how many areas of the human brain are activated by speech: frontal lobe, temporal parietal region, hippocampus, vagus nerve and, sometimes, the deep emotional centers in the limbic. Such complexity means that no rules will hold true 100 percent of the time. Still, guidelines exist. Good dialogue characterizes, sounds natural and flows well. Simple guidelines—until you start looking closely at each one.
MARK MY WORDS:
LETTING CHARACTERS REVEAL THEMSELVES
The basics first. Good dialogue is unsurpassed at telling us who your character is, both intellectually and emotionally. Which of the following excerpts give
Or take another exotic example: that wax museum costumer (I'm fond of this job). What does a costumer do? Research into authentic period costumes, including acquiring actual old buttons, fabric, shawls, dresses. This could send her poking around attics, warehouses, estate sales. Perhaps she's a real wheeler-dealer who tries to always get there early to make a presale deal with whomever it takes to sell her those buttons once worn by Princess Charlotte, or that Revolutionary War uniform from somebody's great-great-great-great-great grandfather. But what else does she find while poking around? And who knows she's doing it?
Many interesting possibilities!
Even if your character works in a conventional office, his job can provide plot developments. Ted Kramer, for instance, the protagonist of Avery Corman's Kramer Versus Kramer, sells advertising space in magazines. The novel isn't about his job; it's about divorce and parenthood. Still, Corman makes good use of the volatility of advertising to add tension to Ted's situation. The sole support of his young son Billy, Ted loses his job during a company merger. He searches hard and finds another. During the custody hearing he's laid off a second time, greatly imperiling his case. Corman shows us Ted's heroic efforts to find another job within twenty-four hours.
In addition, how much Ted earns directly affects such plot incidents as hiring a housekeeper to take care of Billy, affording lawyers, even dating the second time around.
Do your character's job duties, industry conditions, work stresses or salary level suggest any incidents for your novel? If not, perhaps the character needs a career change.
SUMMARY: BE A FULL-SERVICE EMPLOYMENT AGENCY
• Find your character a job that characterizes his personality, class and talents.
• Further characterize him by his attitude toward his work.
• Choose jobs you know a lot about—or can learn about.
• Include enough realistic details about the job to make it seem as real as your protagonist does.
• Use the character's job to suggest plot complications and/or resolutions.
In Karen Joy Fowler's wonderful novel Sarah Canary, the protagonist never speaks. Not a word. Not for 290 pages. And Fowler succeeds in characterizing her anyway.
Most of us, fortunately, do not have to labor under such a burden. We have a powerful tool to let readers know who our characters are. We have dialogue. ''How forcible are right words!'' says Job (6:25), and so they are.
However, not all dialogue is created equal. Mediocre dialogue can do more harm than good: by boring your reader, by misleading him, by offending him or by convincing him that none of these characters has a single spark of genuine life. (If you write really terrible dialogue, he may think the same thing about the author.)
So how do you write good dialogue? And after you have, how do you give it to the reader: in large unbroken chunks, or intercut with descriptions of gestures, voices, surroundings? And what about dialect—does it help or hurt?
Dialogue is a complex subject. This isn't surprising when you consider how many areas of the human brain are activated by speech: frontal lobe, temporal parietal region, hippocampus, vagus nerve and, sometimes, the deep emotional centers in the limbic. Such complexity means that no rules will hold true 100 percent of the time. Still, guidelines exist. Good dialogue characterizes, sounds natural and flows well. Simple guidelines—until you start looking closely at each one.
MARK MY WORDS:
LETTING CHARACTERS REVEAL THEMSELVES
The basics first. Good dialogue is unsurpassed at telling us who your character is, both intellectually and emotionally. Which of the following excerpts give
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