Marking Dialogue

Dialogue Marks

 

I see a lot of talented writers these days who still have trouble when it comes to the conventions of dialogue tagging and paragraphing in narrative, so I thought I’d do a little guide on how to properly punctuate around those all-important lines of speech.

Let’s take a look at the four main types of dialogue demarcation, and I’ll give a rundown on where each of them belongs.

 

When to Comma

The ubiquitous comma should be the most familiar device.  Use it with explicit dialogue marking – i.e., to separate speech from a phrase which directly indicates the speech (words like ‘said’, ‘asked’, ‘shouted’, etc.). This is your basic, everyday dialogue construction.  The marking phrase can be either before, after, or in the middle of the dialogue.

“I want a hamburger,” the dinosaur pouted.

Taliana asked her husband, “Can you pass me the salt?”

“I guess chocolate is fine,” Emmy sighed, “but lemon would have been better.”

(Placement of the comma in relation to the quotation marks is another matter altogether, and up to the style you’re adhering to.  As you may have seen above, I tend to place the comma inside the quotes when the quoted matter warrants its own terminal or conjunctive punctuation, and leave it outside when it does not.)

A little less obvious – eschew the comma when the dialogue has special terminal punctuation, and the marking phrase comes after it.

“You ruined my perfect day!” Sybel yelled.

“What did you see?” Lysander whispered.

Do not use a comma with action phrases that don’t reference the speech or its manner.  This is where I see the most trouble with dialogue commas.

Frogulous picked up a hammer, “I’m gonna get you!”

“I’ve got a headache,” Susie sat down.

There is a little bit of a grey area when it comes to certain phrases that, although they may not literally be describing speech, convey its manner enough that they’ve been adopted as dialogue tags.  For instance, the following construction is fine:

“Maybe it’s a bear,” he shrugged.

But unlike the first examples, a period would also work here:

“Maybe it’s a bear.”  He shrugged.

Note, however, that the comma implies he is shrugging while speaking, whereas the period conveys a shrug post-speech.

 

When to Period

The period is pretty straightforward.  Use it with dialogue that is adjacent to character action statements that do not indicate the speech itself.

Charlotte surveyed the area.  “That would be impractical.”

This is implicit dialogue marking.  You can use it to indicate who is talking without having to take up narrative real-estate with speech words.  At the same time, don’t use a period separator when you are utilizing speech words.

“I can’t believe it’s not butter.” Kevinsburg muttered to his dog.

 

When to Colon

The colon gets a little trickier, and really, you can go a whole book without needing it.  A colon is used to separate speech when the marking phrase also describes what the speech is, or gives a basic summation of it.  If the dialogue is a clarification to a narrative statement which could stand alone, chances are a colon is called for.

Doughnut described his morning: “I woke up late, cut myself on a bar of soap, and nearly choked to death on my toast.”

Emmy clasped her paws together, recounting her plan: “If we raid the grove before midnight, I think we’ll have enough lemons for everyone!”

Note how “described his morning” and “recounting her plan” are semantically complete without the literal dialogue, whereas this is not the case with comma constructions (“He said.” doesn’t mean much on its own).  If it helps, consider that, in comma constructions, the dialogue is acting as the direct object of the speaking verb, so when the verb already has a direct object preceding the dialogue (‘his morning’, ‘her plan’), the colon is simply indicating an elaboration on it.  Lastly, keep in mind that, if you don’t feel like dealing with colons, you can usually get away with just using a period in these cases.

Now, to make things more confusing, you can also use a colon in those instances where you want to set off a large block of dialogue in its own paragraph and precede it with a direct attribution.

The spider crept in circles along its web, inching ever closer to the rodent tangled within its core.  It whispered:

“Little mouse, little mouse.  What were you doing, wandering in here all alone?  You’re much larger than my usual catch, but I shall not complain.  Little mouse, little mouse, please don’t cry; I promise that your suffering will be brief.  One small bite, one small squeeze, and you will drift off to sleep, where your mind can focus on more pleasant things.  Little mouse, little mouse, be still now.  It’s time for supper.”

Here, it is simply acting like a comma, and is only promoted to colon because of the paragraph break. Note with both of these uses that, unlike a comma, a colon is only used before a piece of dialogue.

 

When to Paragraph

This is where I see the most trouble when it comes to dialogue attribution on the whole.  A paragraph break is not a clearly defined and prescribed method for assigning speech like a comma or colon.  It’s another form of implicit attribution – a narrative shortcut that relies on assumptions to function properly. Let me state in brief the two main considerations for paragraphing around dialogue:

  • Wherever possible, when two or more characters interact, consolidate each individual’s speech, feelings, and greater actions to his or her own paragraph(s), and segregate them from paragraphs that focus on the other character(s).
  • A paragraph break, by itself with no other attribution, indicates that the other character is now speaking, not the character who had focus in the immediately preceding paragraph.

As always, better to explain by example:

Peggy’s eyes glanced over the table and landed on the porcelain platter.  She picked up the sandwich sitting neatly upon it and gave it a sniff.  The cloying stench of rot nearly knocked her of her feet.  “Agh.  Tim, was this your lunch?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered.  He folded his arms, leaning back against the wall.

“Well…well, that’s gross.”

“Did you bring a towel?” the tire asked.

“No,” Stacey huffed.  “Wait – why are you a talking tire?”

“Because a cat gave me the ability to talk.”

“And…why was a cat able to do that?”

“Because it was a magic cat.”

“Oh, right, of course.”

In the first example, the last line belongs to Peggy, not Tim.  In the second, once the tire and Stacey are indicated as a speaking pair, each paragraph break alternatingly attributes the subsequent dialogue to the other character.

With that in mind, don’t do something like this:

Trudissima gave a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Oh, please.  The ball wasn’t my idea.”

Clenching a fist, Jimberley pursed his lips and turned his glare out the window.  The rain continued to etch away the once pristine features of his statue on the terrace, yet he couldn’t help but view it as a suitable reflection.  He’d had enough of this run-around.

“Either way, it’ll all be over by tonight.”

There’s no reason for that second paragraph break if that last line belongs to Jimberley.  As is, it reads as though Trudissima is saying it.  There are several ways to rewrite this properly:

Trudissima gave a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Oh, please.  The ball wasn’t my idea.”

Clenching a fist, Jimberley pursed his lips and turned his glare out the window.  The rain continued to etch away the once pristine features of his statue on the terrace, yet he couldn’t help but view it as a suitable reflection.  He’d had enough of this run-around.  “Either way, it’ll all be over by tonight.”

Trudissima gave a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Oh, please.  The ball wasn’t my idea.”

Clenching a fist, Jimberley pursed his lips and turned his glare out the window.   The rain continued to etch away the once pristine features of his statue on the terrace, yet he couldn’t help but view it as a suitable reflection.

He’d had enough of this run-around.  “Either way, it’ll all be over by tonight.”

Trudissima gave a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Oh, please.  The ball wasn’t my idea.”

Clenching a fist, Jimberley pursed his lips and turned his glare out the window.   The rain continued to etch away the once pristine features of his statue on the terrace, yet he couldn’t help but view it as a suitable reflection.  He’d had enough of this run-around.

“Either way, it’ll all be over by tonight,” he said.

Or even:

Trudissima gave a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Oh, please.  The ball wasn’t my idea.”

Clenching a fist, Jimberley pursed his lips and turned his glare out the window.   The rain continued to etch away the once pristine features of his statue on the terrace, yet he couldn’t help but view it as a suitable reflection.  He’d had enough of this run-around.  He grumbled:

“Either way, it’ll all be over by tonight.”

The first is probably preferable, as it keeps the character’s actions, thoughts, and dialogue together, but the others at least make it clear who is speaking.

One should also avoid constructions like this:

Crinkley threw his biscuit to the ground.  This was rubbish, plain and simple.  Were they testing his tenacity?  He could think of not a single reason to give in to the farmers’ demands.  His brother stepped up beside him.  “Let them sow their discontent; we shall see that they reap it.”

Whose dialogue was that – Crinkley’s or his brother’s?  The sudden shift to his brother may suggest the latter, but Crinkley’s thoughts and actions had the focus of the paragraph, which simultaneously implies the former.  If his brother is talking, a paragraph break would clear this right up:

Crinkley threw his biscuit to the ground.  This was rubbish, plain and simple.  Were they testing his tenacity?  He could think of not a single reason to give in to the farmers’ demands.

His brother stepped up beside him.  “Let them sow their discontent; we shall see that they reap it.”

If the line belongs to Crinkley, shifting the focus of the preceding statement would make that more apparent:

Crinkley threw his biscuit to the ground.  This was rubbish, plain and simple.  Were they testing his tenacity?  He could think of not a single reason to give in to the farmers’ demands.  He noticed his brother step up beside him.  “Let them sow their discontent; we shall see that they reap it.”

Even if we resort to explicit attribution (“[Crinkley / his brother] said”), it would still be best to include the paragraph break in the case of his brother speaking.

Now, in these types of situations, context will sometimes make it obvious who is talking, but don’t let that be a crutch.  Implicit dialogue attribution is not a place to exercise your stylistic uniqueness; subverting your readers’ built-in assumptions as to what paragraphing indicates in narrative is a recipe for confusion, and not knowing who is speaking can make for a frustrating reading experience. Adhering to convention is simply much less ambiguous in the long run (and is ultimately what allows it to work in the first place).  Clarity is a good thing!

 

So, in brief summation – use commas with indicated speech (she said,) and colons with clarified speech (she read the note:).  Use periods to separate non-speech actions from dialogue belonging to the same character, and paragraph breaks for dialogue belonging to a different character.

Simple, right?  (>^-‘)>

 

Bene scribete.

Make a MONSTER!

Make a Monster

 

Who doesn’t like a proper monster now and then?  Especially one that you can hug or pose or throw at people.

But a good monster needs good writing to bring it to life.  With that in mind, my sister, the toy maker and horror fanatic, is holding a monster-themed short story competition, the prize for which is a custom-designed stuffed/plush/doll of your very own featured monster.

Sound awesome?  Of course it does.  Click here for details!

M-M-M-MONSTER!

 

Bene scribete.

Ascha – Free for a Limited Time

Ascha - Shauna Scheets

 

From now until next Friday (2-14-14), my former DoD partner-in-crime-justice Shauna Scheets is offering her YA fantasy novel Ascha (prequel to The Tower of Boran) for free on Smashwords!

Just head on over to the book’s Smashwords page and enter coupon code QJ94H at checkout to get your own complimentary copy in all major eBook formats (even plain ol’ PDF).

As a prequel, it can easily be read as the first entry to the series, and as a freequel, there’s not much to lose in checking it out.  (>^-‘)>

 

Bene scribete.

Meaty Strangers

In lieu of having time to finish the article I meant to post this week, I shall instead very belatedly insist upon the reading of the ever-hilarious Me Dangerbolt‘s harrowing adventures with a psychotic neighborhood dog who thinks its life is a video game:

 

 

And don’t forget to check out the DLC!  (>^-‘)>

 

Bene scribete.

A Piece of String

Piece of string

 

A funny little anecdote for the week:

Last month, just before Christmas, a former colleague from my DoD days sent me an eBay listing for these nifty little Android pocket computers (pack-of-gum-sized things that plug into the HDMI port of a television), bundled with a wireless handheld keyboard+mouse device.  The asking price, incredibly enough, was only $11 (with free shipping!).

Now, I didn’t have any explicit need for such a thing, but come on, $11?  The handheld keyboard thingy alone was worth that.  Yes, it seemed too good to be true, particularly as the seller was in China, so the shipping alone would seem cost-prohibitive, but his feedback was 98% positive over 500+ transactions.  Maybe he’d less-than-legitimately obtained a crate of them, and was trying to palm them off as quickly as possible?  I thought about it for a couple days before curiosity got the better of me, and I decided that sure, I’ll take a gamble for $11.  I placed the order, and got a tracking number for the shipment the following morning.  Cool.

Fast-forward a few weeks, and a package from China arrives in my mailbox.  It’s a padded envelope with the android computer clearly declared on the customs label.  Inside of that envelope, however, was not a little android computer.

Inside of that envelope, was a piece of string.

The bald-faced audacity of it was too amusing for me to really get upset.  I expected I might get nothing, but there was just something delightfully bizarre about the seller actively taking the effort to ship me a piece of garbage from China in a tracked package.

I looked back up the eBay listing, and found that it had been taken down, and the seller’s account suspended, so they’d obviously already gotten word of the scam (I imagine the seller must have utilized a pay-for-review service to generate all the positive feedback on his account).  Since I’d payed the seller’s PayPal account, I was referred to them to get a refund.

PayPal’s dispute resolution system is heavily automated, but my transaction had simply gone through my credit card rather than my own PayPal account, so it didn’t show up in my history for me to act upon.  As such, I used the general web form to explain this and the situation in general, ensuring I provided my transaction ID.

I received an automated response an hour or so later telling me to select the transaction on my account history and file an automated claim.  Awesome, they didn’t bother to actually read what I wrote.  I responded to the e-mail, reiterating the situation, and the next day I received a response saying my claim was escalated to PayPal.  O.K., cool.

A couple days later, I got another canned e-mail saying that the dispute had been decided in my favor.  They would gladly reverse the charge – just as soon as I returned the “item not as described” to the seller and provided them with a tracking number showing I did so.  Ah-ha!  So this was the core of the scam – the seller is banking on this policy (and the obtuseness of dealing with PayPal in general), in conjunction with the item’s just-low-enough price, to make it economically nonsensical to pursue the refund when it requires paying for the return shipping.  A pretty clever scheme, I have to admit!  Obviously not one I was going to play along with, though.

The e-mail address they had sent this request from obnoxiously did not accept replies, so I sent my response to first one they’d been using.  I (politely, I promise) explained that I did not feel sending a piece of garbage back to China was a reasonable course of action, that enforcing this policy would only perpetuate scams like this, and that if we could not work around it, I would simply have my bank rescind the charge.

(I could have simply pointed out that the return ‘address’ they gave me – nothing more specific or meaningful than “Beijing, Beijing, Beijing, China” – was not exactly one I could ship to, but you know, principles and all.)

A couple days after that, I received a canned response informing me that they were still waiting for me to send them the tracking information for the return shipment.  Good lord.

Tempted as I was to just go to the bank at that point, I decided to give them one more chance, and called the support number.  Naturally, I had to wait on hold for over forty-five minutes before anyone answered (all the while listening to a recording of someone touting how much easier and more convenient using the automated online dispute system would be than continuing to wait on the phone).

When I was finally connected with a person and gave him my dispute ID (I could hear him mumbling the words of my last e-mail to himself, so they did indeed receive it and add it to my case before ignoring it), it took all of about thirty seconds for him to go over the situation and put in a payment reversal, which I had an e-mail confirmation for as soon as I got off the phone.  Funny how much smoother things go when there’s actual communication happening.

Ah, well.  Caveat emptor and all that, I suppose.  (>^-‘)>

Oh, and a final note: I received one more e-mail from PayPal a few days afterward, asking me if I would have any interest in taking a short survey and providing feedback about my recent experience with their transaction dispute process.

Why, yes, PayPal  Yes, I would.

 

Bene scribete.

Something Positive

Plus

 

One of the most important benefits of language is that it fosters the organization of thought.  One of the most interesting things about the study of language in its many forms is what it tells us about transcultural psychology.

For instance, do you know what is perhaps the most widely disseminated term in a given language?

Gracias.  Grazie.  Merci.  Danke.  Arigato.  I’m willing to bet that the majority of you native English speakers could tell me not only what that means, but also the language to which each of those words belongs.  I bet many of you have even used one or two for fun in an otherwise English conversation.  And yet, I imagine most of you couldn’t tell me off the top of your head what the word for ‘I’ is in those same languages.

That says something kind of nice about what we at large have felt is most important to be able to convey to our fellow earthlings, don’t you think?

 

Bene scribete, et gratias vobis ago.

¡FOURTEEN!

New Year

Did last year seem to blast by a little too quickly for anyone else?

I wrote The Amber Ring in 2012, and it is now 2014 – this realization makes me feel…less productive than I should like.  I suppose I did write a screenplay last year, but it still needs another couple rounds of revisions before it could be considered finished.

I’m not really one for resolutions; they’re prone to be a source of either stress or disappointment (or, more likely, both).  But perhaps there’s little harm in simply naming a few things I’d like to accomplish this year.  That way, they’re out there, so I’ll feel properly shamed if I don’t live up to the task, but not so burdened with self-loathing as I would were I to say with definitive ardor that they will be done.

Et sic,

  • I won’t delude myself into thinking I’ll finish the book I started in early 2011, but it’d be nice to make another huge dent in it.
  • I need to complete work on the aforementioned screenplay, and write another – particularly considering they’re already paid for.  I’d also like to see production start in earnest on one of them, but that’s not really under my control.  (>^-‘)>
  • Doing another novella would be fun.  I have a handful of concepts itching at my mind, but I need to focus on one of them and flesh it out.
  • Maybe write a short story in verse, or compile a collection of silly poetry in the vein of Shel Silverstein.  Nothing I can realistically expect interest in, but endeavors that would nonetheless appeal to me for their own sake.
  • Providing more interesting content for Writin’ Fish would be good, so long as I find the time and ideas (and don’t draw the ire of the slog).

 

There you have it, then.  I’d be happy to cross even one or two of these off, really.  So we’ll see what happens.

Here’s hoping for a productive and enjoyable year for everyone!

 

Bene scribete.

Christmas Time is Reindeer Time (Probably)

Looking for some classic Christmas entertainment to liven up the holidays?  Of course not – you can find that anywhere.

Looking for some crazy Christmas entertainment to crazy up the holidays?  Well, then, might I prescribe a double dose of Finnish reindeer drama?

Behold the magical insanity that are these films:

 

Niko 2Reindeer Drama

You can’t always strike gold when absently perusing Netflix, but sometimes, you might strike…reindeer?

Don’t strike reindeer, though.  That’s terribly rude.

(View Post)

 

Niko posterReindeer Drama: Part -1

After seeing the second movie, tracking down the first became a necessity.

It does not disappoint.

(View Post)

 

 

They really do need to make more of these (if for no other reason than these reviews are always bringing in web traffic…  (>^-‘)> ).  Get on it, Finland!

And to the rest of you, have a wonderful Christmas!

 

Bene scribete.

Brand Capitalization

Tic-Tac Logo

Freshens your breath, so you don’t have to

 

I’m always slightly, unavoidably offended when companies don’t capitalize their own brand names. Primarily because proper nouns have free rein to eschew orthographic decorum, and their specifics take precedence over propriety.  Which means I also have to write them that way.  Which is wrong.

You’re making me do language wrong, brand.  But that’s on you.  I’m not taking the fall for that.

The most untenable, however, is when the second letter – oh, the second letter! – of the name is capitalized when the first is not.  Ever tried to start a sentence with ‘iPhone’?  It’s the worst.

Stop it, brands.  Just stop.

 

Bene scribete.