You will excuse this post – it’s meandering, and maybe pointless, but hey, that’s blogging for you:)

It’s May tomorrow and I feel like in the past few days that spring has actually arrived. The grass is getting green, and though there . . . → Read More: Honey wagons and other bits of nothing]]> I love to talk about nothing. It’s the only thing I know anything about. Oscar Wilde

You will excuse this post – it’s meandering, and maybe pointless, but hey, that’s blogging for you:)

It’s May tomorrow and I feel like in the past few days that spring has actually arrived. The grass is getting green, and though there is still frost at night, the days are quite warm and as of yesterday I have dispensed with socks. I worked in the garden last night (which is slowly coming along) and the mosquitos were out. The forsythia is out here and there, and the telltale signs of spring are around. A work colleague of mine poked her head into my office today to tell me that her bionic sense of smell was overwhelmed by the trail of a leaking “honey wagon” going down Commercial Drive in New Minas today. This is a honey wagon – I followed this one for a couple of kilometers through the middle of Hants County on my way to Moncton last Friday – and honey, that ain’t no honey in the back of that wagon.

Honey wagon on hwy 14

While I certainly don’t mind the smell of manure (pronounce it MAN-UR-EH and it almost seems fancy and Italian) the stuff in a honey wagon can be a little overpowering, even for me.

I just updated my RWA membership for another year. I will be perfectly honest and tell you that I join mostly so I can keep my affiliation with my local chapter. Though I appreciate the backing of RWA, like any big organization, it can feel a little distant and my local chapter keeps me grounded and has provided the most hands-on support for me as a writer. I’m going to miss my next meeting due to work commitments that are taking me out of town (I am excited at the same time though, more on that when I return) and I’m going to miss Deborah Hale giving a talk, which is too bad. She has been writing books for along time, and what she knows could fill a decent sized room, but she does it in an approachable way. Every time she speaks, I learn something.

After blogging tonight I’m going to return to working on hard edits of my book – working in and fixing some character flaws, tightening up the plot and motivation of my characters, including my villain.

I am going back and forth with my usual bipolar approach to my writing that I think plagues most writers – I go from feeling good to being convinced I have no talent whatsoever, often in the same day. However, I am moving ahead because I cannot imagine doing anything else. And besides, I’m learning and improving so I figure I am going in the right direction at least.

So that’s my this and that for this week  - cheersJ

As I have posted before, I haven’t had broadcast television since 2003. Every show . . . → Read More: My latest favourite things: the interweb edition]]> This post is late, and will be short as my work life is spreading itself around and generally making free with my evenings for the next week or so. But it was inspired a few discoveries we made on youtube over the weekend. 

As I have posted before, I haven’t had broadcast television since 2003. Every show I have watch since (at home anyway) has been streamed online or came from a DVD case. I am a complete and utter snob when it comes to TV – I mourn TLC, despise “reality” TV and couldn’t care less about idols or iron chefs. If you do, great! I don’t judge you – just completely not my thing. I used to spend alot of my spare time as a kid reading encyclopedias – so, well, I’m a geek and I cannot lie.

So in that vein, my family and I discovered a few new channels on Youtube – some perhaps familiar to you, others maybe not – but here are a few of my favourites:

 TED: Ideas worth spreading. TED talks maybe the granddaddy of these, and I love them. They have them packaged on Netflix now, and I gobble them up like roast chicken potato chips. JK Rowling’s famous discussion about the Benefits of Failure is here, along with a brilliant design for a water bottle that can create drinking water from contaminated supplies, then stop working when the filter needs replacing. I learned to love statistics on this site (thanks Hans Rosling). Whenever bad news gets to me, TED talks give me hope that alot of people are working really hard to make the world a better place, and some of them live in your own backyard.

PBS Idea Channel. If there is ONE channel I miss watching, it is PBS. Honestly – even the telethons asking for money. My favourite feed was the one out of Bangor, and then after we lost that, the one from Boston. The Idea Channel bills itself as a “show that examines the connection between pop culture, technology and art.” There’s a weekly episode and it’s hosted by a guy named Mike. Each segment is about 8 minutes long, and ends with Mike actually replying to comments left in the youtube feed from past episodes. Segments are titled things like Is Community a Post-Modernist Masterpiece? or Is Doctor Who a Religion? They are great.

Crash course. There are actually six streams in Crash Course, and todate I’ve only looked at some from the US History and the World History streams, but there is alot biology, chemistry, literature and ecology. The hosts John and Hank Green, but John Greene does the history ones and he’s pretty engaging. They run in the between 7 and 14 minutes long. At the beginning of the World History course, the host’s alter-ego (the student) asks if what he’s talking about is going to be on “the test”. His answer? Just watch the first minute of the video…

By the way, these guys also host a channel called the vlogbrothers which also looks highly promising (it’s tag line is: raising nerdy to the power of awesome…so I’m there).

 In a similar vein, the SciShow handles science topics on things like gluten and the 5 Deadliest topics on earth.

If you’re more into fiction than facts, try the Canadian shot web series Space Janitors about a couple of hapless janitors aboard a huge ship in space that is perhaps a tad reminscent of a more famous space series that shall remain nameless. My husband got me watching this, and it’s pretty darned good.

So that’s it from me this week – I did manage to get up to chapter seven of my current MS cleaned and polished and I’m eager to dig into chapter eight, but it won’t happen until Monday night I think. In the meantime, I hope you take a few minutes to check out some great web programing - and I’m always eager for recommendations!

It snowed last night, so I technically should be crankier than I am. I am trying to remember that this is what spring actually is in this province (generally awful and damp with . . . → Read More: On the upspring]]> The difference between perseverance and obstinacy is that one comes from a strong will, and the other comes from a strong won’t. 
Henry Ward Beecher

It snowed last night, so I technically should be crankier than I am. I am trying to remember that this is what spring actually is in this province (generally awful and damp with a few great days in the middle until one day summer just shows up). I really want to get back into my yard and keep digging up that garden bed I’ve been working on. I would like to think I’ve been reasonably successful thus far, though truth be told it’s still just dirt. But it’s dirt with a whole lot less weeds in it – so I’ll call that progress.

However, I am in a much better mood now than I was this time a month ago, when work ate up it’s normal forty hours a week and then a few extra every night just for good measure. That cut not just into my writing time (or editing time, in this case) but into my very ability to even be creative. I rarely got out for walks and my eating habits weren’t particularly stellar either. Those of you who know me personally (or just take a good look at my picture at the website) know I’m not exactly a size 8. But getting out for a brisk walk on a daily basis is part of my routine – just as helpful to my frame of mind as to my backside – and mad cravings for sugar (I always crave sugar this time of year) did not help matters either. I am keenly aware that I am at risk for depression at this time of year, so not exercising at all and having a less than healthy diet, along with hours spent indoors dealing with work pressures is like knocking back a big mac and fries on a daily basis when you know you have high blood pressure. It’s one of the big reasons I started putting a pitch fork in my garden a few weeks ago – I needed an outlet, and sitting down and writing (when I’d been sitting down and writing or problem solving all day and evening) was not the right one. Rather, I needed a physical one that I could do while I could still watch the kids playing in the back yard, that had my hands in the dirt and was a little messy.  As adults, I think we need a little bit more of messy in our lives – and not the emotional drama messy. I mean plain old dirt.

There occasionally comes a moment when I suffer from panic – that there isn’t enough time to do what I want, that I’m never going to reach those big writing goals of mine, that I am never going to make it because there is something else in the way. When work is extremely busy, that panic festers and can be a poison, and completely self-sabotaging. I haven’t learned yet how to overcome it completely, except to remember that these things too shall pass and to keep on writing.

I can’t get outside today – am itching to build a new compost pile – because it’s too wet. But the work pressures of February/March seems to have subsided for the moment, and it’s like my veins just got larger or something because I can feel the blood flowing. Everything is loosening up and moving. I am aching to move more – with my writing, with the garden, with the stuff in my personal life. I’ve been making writing goals and thus far I’m meeting them.  I feel like it’s a bit on the upswing, which is nice.

So spring is taking it’s good sweet time getting here, but at least  my creativity is starting to sprout again. How about yours?

I was privileged to attend YA paranormal author Shawna Romkey’s book launch for Speak of the Devil last Friday. (I wasn’t lucky enough to buy a book there though – they sold out . . . → Read More: Driven]]> A lot of people can’t stand touring but to me it’s like breathing. I do it because I’m driven to do it. - Bob Dylan 

I was privileged to attend YA paranormal author Shawna Romkey’s book launch for Speak of the Devil last Friday. (I wasn’t lucky enough to buy a book there though – they sold out by the time I got there!! – to the bookstore I go). Great venue, great turnout, great celebration, and a celebration it should be. Most writers have the door slammed in their faces time after time, year after year, and so when that moment comes you see your story in print (paper or e-ink) with a cover and everything – let’s just it deserves cake with sprinkles and fireworks and whatever else it takes for you to feel vindicated that it was all worth it. (Actually, I think writing is always worth it if you love it).

Shawna held up a manila file folder – it was probably and inch and a half thick. It was her rejection folder. Every letter, every email, every note she’d ever been sent telling her “no thanks” in various degrees of politeness was in that folder. (I think Sara Hubbard’s honour roll might be even more—and badges of honour they are). Every letter, let me tell you – I’ve had a few – is just a little bit of heartache. Each has the potential to be a speed bump or a road block on your path. Get enough of them, and you can decide it’s just easier to stop and do something else. Robert J. Sawyer did an excellent piece a few years ago on Robert Heinlein’s Rules of Writing (only 5, and Sawyer added a 6^th) on the need to write, submit, and move on to write some more.  As I am working on what I am declaring to be my final edit of Not Your Average Beauty– after some substantial and thoughtful revisions – I am going to follow that advice. Edit, submit, submit, submit, and move on to the next story. I will happily go back and edit again when a publisher buys it and I’m assigned an editor – but until then, once I hit “The End” this time, it will be.

I am driven to write. If it’s not too bold to say, I want to be published. I have big dreams about being published – I’d like to be able to make a good living by it, which means I’d like to be able to feed my family and keep a nice roof over our heads and have a reliable car. I want to write novels in the morning and make jam in the afternoon. That has been my writing goal for 20 years. Lately, a property nearby has come to market and I keep it book marked on my smart phone so that everytime I pick up my phone to go on pinterest or facebook when I’m working on my manuscript just the site of the bookmark makes me put my phone down and get back to it. It reminds me, partially, of what it is I want out of my professional life, which is a life as a professional author—and checking everyone’s facebook status every ten minutes or finding a new pin on pinterest doesn’t really get me there. (though I love pinterest. I like ice cream too, but both of those things are not good for me in the quantities I would love to have them…) Let me tell you, it has been an incredibly effective motivator. Not because I need a big house (it’s bigger than mine, but most houses are) but it represents an indicator of success. A visual reminder, a visceral reminder for goals that can seem terribly illusive or far away.

Do you keep a rejection pile? Do you have something tucked away that helps you to focus when you’d otherwise be on twitter?

There is a sign just outside of the village of Brooklyn that tells you . . . → Read More: Feeling natural]]> Life is given to you like a flat piece of land and everything has to be done. I hope that when I am finished, my piece of land will be a beautiful garden, so there is a lot of work. Jeanne Moreau

There is a sign just outside of the village of Brooklyn that tells you that you are at  the 45th N parallel (my house is about 1 km past that sign, on the side closer to the North Pole). Though spring is not a spectacular season in Nova Scotia, as I get older I find I look forward to it with the same wanton abandon I look forward to good Easter chocolate. I start re-reading a few favourite gardening books in January, start rooting around for the first signs of the snowdrops by the end of February, and by mid-March, I’m scanning Youtube for gardening shows.

I am very lucky in that I have more garden spaces to play in than many. In various places on my property, which is actually not very large, you will find blackberries, two rhododendrons, a holly that bears fruit, an ornamental cherry tree, chives, a whack of peonies, lilies, sweet peas, and some other things I can’t name. Snowdrops cover a decent portion of my front yard, and I have 3 hydrangeas, one so large it’s actually a tree. On one side of my house are lilacs that are 25 feet high.

Before you become impressed by that – I must give full credit  to the person who owned the house before me. There used to be lavender here too, and poppies, but I couldn’t maintain them. I didn’t even realize I had peonies the first year I moved in because Chinese lanterns grew over them and nearly smothered them all. (I beg you, NEVER plant these things – Chinese lanterns – unless you do it in a bucket on concrete. They are pretty in the fall, but incredibly invasive. You will have to dig straight down to China to get all the roots out.)

My poor well worn muck boots.

Three weeks ago I stumbled upon the BBC show “How to be a gardener” on Youtube. Though it’s set in the UK, where, generally, winters require the occasional use of a snow shovel and the daffodils are in full bloom by March, the series is excellent and if you are a beginner I recommend it, especially the first season. The host is Alan Titchmarch, and he is an engaging gardener who is not the least bit intimidating. He starts off the series but addressing a basic truth – despite how it looks, there is absolutely nothing natural about a garden. I cannot tell you what an epiphany this has been for me.

You see, not including a small veg patch I have 6 different garden beds – some small, others very large—and I didn’t want to cut anything back in any of them. Didn’t want to rip anything out. Part of this was because my plant knowledge was less than basic, and the other is that I didn’t want to ruin what I had. But by doing nothing, and letting things run rampant, I ended up doing just that. Slowly I’ve been reclaiming them – I can call success on one very small one out front. But the others–well, they are certainly natural, but not really gardens anymore.

If you are looking for a purely natural environment, you get a forest, or a meadow—both which are beautiful but neither are remotely like gardens. In a garden you plant flowers together that in nature would never co-exist in the same place. In a purely natural environment, it’s survival of the fittest. What grows fastest and is the toughest wins (dandelions, anyone?). In a garden, when something gets large and overgrown, you can cut it back a little or a lot—or, most startlingly, get rid of it if you don’t like it or want something different. For you experience gardeners this is probably old hat, but for me–let’s just say it was an absolutely freeing concept.

It reminded me of storytelling, and I can relate to that. Because storytelling, is of course, pure artifice. It sets up characters with deliberately conflicting goals, and whether they are doing extraordinary things (like ridding the world of an evil magic ring) or more mundane ones (overcoming societal differences to achieve happiness) it is all a bit contrived–but, here is the trick, it can’t feel contrived. It feels natural in some way, and you happily go along–just like the garden. You have a plan for a story, you have to edit out the bits that don’t work (even if you love them), and sometimes those bits are small scenes and other times they are entire subplots or characters. When you tell a story, you just leave in the bits that matter to the story—unless there is a reason for me to show a character putting on their socks and deciding between cereal or toast for breakfast, it’s just filler, just words (weeds, if you want to carry the metaphor).

The sun came out Friday and since then I’ve been spending a few hours digging in one of my garden beds. I have taken Mr. Titchmarsh’s advice to heart and I’m doing a hard edit of the bed. I cut down a lilac bush that was mostly dead anyway (though left one new sprout). Dug out roses that were more interested in sending out thorny suckers rather than blossoms. I spent most of Saturday digging out a thick layer of crab grass that had settled in, no doubt finely knitted with golden rod, which I actually quite like when it grows wild in fields. My fork also speared a few tulips and daffodils—which I felt a teensy bit bad about until I remembered what my great goal was – to create a nice garden where these things can actually be seen. I can get more bulbs in the fall and plant them en masse in the fall.

My gardening goals are quite modest now—they have to be, or else I get overwhelmed and don’t do anything. Basically, I want to clear out a bed to put some nice annuals and transplant some perennials that are in other beds, particularly the one near the house where all those peonies are. Because that bed is also full of Chinese lanterns, and I have come to the conclusion that the only way I can deal with them is a  dig-and-scorched-earth approach – which means dig down a foot or two, rip up what I can, and then put some black plastic down and try and kill what’s left. A year of sacrifice so I can replenish the soil next year and start over. I’m looking forward to it because there is a physicality to gardening that I enjoy, plus you get dirty, which I also don’t mind, and if I do anything half right I’ll get some flowers and a few tomatoes. And it’s a work in progress where you can actually see the progress – a stark contrast to my day job and even to writing.

So, we will see how my garden will grow. It’s a blustery day today, and it’s weeks before anything can go into the ground. I think my biggest challenge is to focus on what I am going to relocate, and that I simply need to focus on one thing at a time and not get overwhelmed.

How about you? Any great gardening plans this year?

There are some words, or turns of phrases, I find powerful. They aren’t necessarily fancy words – I don’t think any of my picks would qualify. Some of them are perhaps primal, others aren’t necessarily so. I was . . . → Read More: Powerful words]]> Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren’t. Margaret Thatcher

There are some words, or turns of phrases, I find powerful. They aren’t necessarily fancy words – I don’t think any of my picks would qualify. Some of them are perhaps primal, others aren’t necessarily so. I was listening to my favourite song these days – I Will Wait by Mumford and Sons – and one of these words came up. It resonated with me, and I realized that some words always do in some kind of fundamental way. If you google “powerful words” you will inevitably get a host of links to websites with nauseating lists of “power words” to use in your resume, and rarely do I find any jargon invented by the business world to be anything more than powerful B.S.

Sunrise on the holy Ganges – Varanasi, India. – Source: Wikimedia Commons

River: river of tears, rivers of blood, raging rivers. We liken crossing a river to confronting an obstacle. Rivers have shaped human civilization since we’ve civilization. They were our first highways. The Nile, the Amazon, the Ganges – these are as famous as mountains (and maybe more so). I’ve seen the Missouri River going through Kansas City Missouri, but other than that, I’ve never seen a really big one in person. A river is a powerful word in fiction – it conveys power, the free flow of energy (which, if one considers the term, a “river of blood” it’s the draining away of something like our energy), the giver of life and occasionally the bringer of death. The Ents “release the river” to wash away the filth Isenguard becomes after Saurman goes sour.  Crossing the river also means going to the world of the dead.

By kriplozoik via Wikimedia Commons

Flesh. (Man-flesh, flesh-eating virus, feel my flesh) There is something about this word that I find incredibly primal. More than skin, or meat, or naked or whatever. If you are eating a steak you are eating flesh, we are made of it. The touch of skin on skin (or better yet, flesh on flesh) is our first experience with the world.

Kobayashi Torasaburo statue, via Wikimedia Commons

Kneel (or fall to one’s knees). The act of kneeling can be one of two things: subjugation to a more powerful force (that is good or ill), or humility. In the past (and no doubt in places of the world today where this is still practiced) you knelt before the executioner. Like the river, the act of kneeling is about power – succumbing to it, giving yourself to it willingly. Either way, the gesture is a powerful one. Whether you are kneeling to humble yourself before a divine presence, or kneeling to talk to a child so they are not feeling so small, it is one of those actions that always makes an impact. I often wonder if it goes back to the days when we used to walk on all fours—maybe the anthropologists can answer.

Quest. I love this word. It’s more powerful than journey, trip or even ‘adventure’. There is something inherently noble in it for me. It’s purposeful. It starts out hopeful and then can get dark and even dangerous at times. I kind of consider my writing career a bit of a quest – the perils are facing rejection and the chance of defeat, but the endgame is worth the bumps and bruises to my ego.

St. James Cemetery, Brooklyn, N.S.

Mortal. We are all going to die, aren’t we? That is the gravitas in that word. Maybe because it sounds so medieval – instead of death and dying, two words that scream from headlines on an hourly basis so we are immune to them unless we are dealing with it personally. But to say, “I am mortal” is sort of like saying “I am human” – a creature aware of itself, and that it won’t be around forever. Immortal doesn’t pack the same punch for me, probably because I’m not.

I was going to end my list here, and then I remembered one more.

Good. Good is a highly underrated word, but you know, people die for good. People will risk their lives to do something they think is good. Horrible things can be done in the name of the “greater good”. I wish you a good day, and what do I mean by that? That you will get through the day happy, without anyone being mean to you or having a piano fall on your head. That you will be well and happy. Good is a powerful idea. I want my sons to grow into good men. I want a good marriage, a good life. People may not look forward to death, but generally speaking I think people would want a good death. I always want to get a good night’s sleep.

So those are my list of powerful words, completely random and in no particular order. I wish you a very good day, and would love to hear words you find powerful.

Do you want to be famous? It’s a pretty cheap idea these days. I am extremely resentful of the fact I know who Paris Hilton is (or was…where is she now anyway? Wait. . . . → Read More: Baby remember my name]]> What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.
Lord Byron 

Do you want to be famous? It’s a pretty cheap idea these days. I am extremely resentful of the fact I know who Paris Hilton is (or was…where is she now anyway? Wait. I don’t care.).  Or the Kardashians. Or Snooky from Jersey Shore who has a book deal (don’t even get me started on that one, and yes, I am a total snob about it).  I haven’t watched network TV for 10 years and I know these people exist and have no remarkable talent except getting people to watch their every scripted move. They are famous simply for being famous.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to make a mark with my writing. I would love to be bestselling enough to have a nice loyal following, maybe even across genres.  For me,  “being famous” — or better, being successful–carries the notion that I could make a comfortable living doing what I love most, which is writing. I think most authors are blessed with the idea of being being successful without being famous in the way actors or musicians can be.

However, there are some days when I dream about being called by Shelagh Rogers or Jian Ghomeshi to talk about my latest book, because it’s news. Or that Sarah Wendell and Jane Litte are so excited about my book they want to chat with me on their podcast. I’m not too proud to say there are experiences I’d love to have…along with a few others. Experiences that may only come with having a certain degree of success. Here are some others – let me know about yours.

Score an interview on Q. Because spending any amount of time with Jian Ghomeshi seems like a good idea, but also, I think being featured on Canada’s top pop culture program by one of the best interviewers any where would be thrilling.

Be a star in a reasonably priced car. I was watching this today and it was this that actually inspired this entire post. There is a feature on BBC’s Top Gear where they take a star and put them in an average car and do a lap on their test track. I’ve watched David Tennant, Rowan Atkinson, Gordon Ramsay, Will.I.Am and a few dozen other folks go round that track. We have a virtual version of the Top Gear test track on GT5 and I’ve tried it in my living room (and I suck…it’s harder than it looks). But I’ll keep practicing because when I do get published and sell a gagillion copies I’d love sit on that coach opposite Jeremy Clarkson and discuss my horrible car history and how remarkably well the Stig thought I did considering it was my first time driving a stick with my left hand.

The opportunity to meet other writers and creative people I dream about meeting (hello, Joss Whedon). Truthfully, I’m not sure how this would actually work, because I am painfully shy with people I don’t know. I do not “mingle”. I do not do cocktail parties and similar. However, I figure if I am famous, then other people might want to meet me, and then I don’t have to buck up any courage to say hello to anyone, because my work is done for me. (I am not sure if that is lazy or pathetic. Possibly both).

READ. I want to be on one of those Read posters that the American Library Association puts out, because, simply, they’re cool.

The chance to champion a cause more loudly. I’m a strong advocate for literacy strengthening programs, early childhood learning and other lifelong learning opportunities for people who need them. Having a literacy challenge in our world is detrimental your quality of life, and more a pure cold economic standpoint, is a drag on our economy and puts tears in our social fabric. But there is a tremendous stigma attached to it, and so I would love to be able to reach out to a broader audience and start to break that down, and help those groups provide a hand up to the 9 million Canadian adults who do not have the literacy skills they need to make a go of it.

So that’s my little list. Being famous isn’t the end game with me. My idea of success is to be able to write full time because I’m making enough money that I could give up my job and pension to do it.  (Write novels in the morning, make jam in the afternoon – that has been my dream for 20 years). Being respected as a good writer and having my stories enjoyed are my goals. Fame is a cheap commodity, and while I never wish to be famous for it’s own sake, I think if I find myself in that position, boy – well, I hope my people call Q’s people .

Speaking of people who are no doubt soon to be famous, next week I’m going to be featuring Shawna Romkey, author of the newly released Speak of the Devil. I hope you can drop by while she submits to the Proustian Questionnaire! (Okay, I’d like to do that for Vanity Fair too.)

I did a short workshop on dialogue today for my writing group. My workshop was a culmination of many sources, . . . → Read More: You call it, Cap]]> Dialogue isn’t just dialogue. It’s a vehicle for character, theme, mood, plot, conflict, mystery, tension, horror. Dialogue does a lot of work in very short space: it’s the goddamn Swiss Army knife of storytelling. – Chuck Wendig

I did a short workshop on dialogue today for my writing group. My workshop was a culmination of many sources, and I wanted to share some of them here. I don’t proclaim to be an expert on writing dialogue, but it’s something I generally have a good feel for. I often don’t have a strong sense of what my characters look like, but the pattern, tenor and rhythm of their voices develop for me very quickly.

Dialogue, like everything else in fiction, is artifice. It’s like a cottage garden – it should feel natural, maybe even a little wild or untidy, even when it isn’t. Nature’s gardens are called “forests” or “meadows” – awhole lotta nature run wild – mostly grasses and very few flowers. Real speech, most of the time, is filled with a whole lot of nothing. To quote W.B. Kinsella: Trust me, your lives are not interesting. Don’t write them down.

Dialogue is like a dance. It’s made up of several elements; what your characters need to say, what they can’t say, what they won’t say, and what they’re forced to say. The art of dialogue is not just about what your characters say to each other – it’s what they won’t.

How your character speaks can say a lot about them; their situation, their gender, their walk of life, and what they are feeling. Dialogue is like every other aspect of writing – use it to show us your character, not tell us about them.  If you’ve ever seen the film The Avengers, you know, for example, that Tony Stark is a bit of a diva. There is seldom a scene he’s in when he’s not speaking. And he’s always talking from a position of authority – and he should be: he’s the head of a gajillion dollar company AND a superhero. He likes to stand out. You know he’s smart because he’s talks in calculations; you know he’s a smart ass because he likes to get his digs in about practically everyone else.  He assumes his word goes, because in his world, it always does. But when tragedy strikes, the bad guy lashes out and claims something he values – something all his money cannot replace – and he is suddenly out of his element. And he stops talking for an entire scene.

After this black moment, there is a scene when the Avengers are fighting the bad guys and they are all on a street strewn with rubble, waiting to have another round with the evil aliens. Iron Man flies in – no personal soundtrack, no great entrance. He lands, looks to Captain America, and says “You call it, Cap.”

It’s a very simple line of dialogue that to me says loads – it does double duty, as Mr. Wendig suggest all dialogue should do. It says to me that Tony Stark has grown as a character – he recognizes that when fighting battles like this, Captain America has more experience, has the expertise to make military-style decisions, and that he, Iron Man, has grown up enough to know that sometimes the best leaders know when to step aside and let someone else call the shots.

That’s a lot for four words.

If you watch the film, pay attention to language. Bruce Banner is just as smart as Tony, but far more introverted. Any why not? The thing inside him is dangerous…just raising his voice is enough to make everyone else nervous. Steve Rodgers is from another time, a little more formal, a little more traditional—and his speech reflects that.

Thinking about the different elements in your characters will help you find their voice.

Two other things – more mechnical in nature – that you might consider:

Dialect. Don’t use it. Suggest it which a few choice words or phrasing, sprinkled in the way you’d add cayenne to a chili you were serving to your sister with the nervous stomach. Very lightly. It slows the reader down, and unless you can do it very well, you may get it wrong. Use phrasing and grammar to suggest a difference in speech.

Dialogue tags: The general consensus is that “said” and “asked” will cover your needs 99.9% of the time. If you can use an action to drop in a beat and suggest attribution, even better. Adverbs are the stuff of amateurs. (The road to hell, according to Stephen King, is paved with them). Readers generally glaze over “said” – it tends to be invisible, which is exactly what you want.

In preparing my workshop, I found some great help from other sources. These were some of them:

One of the more difficult issues for me is the voices of very young children – I have thus avoided writing kids 3-6 years old because, frankly, I’m not sure how to have them come off as feeling “real”. They are often the most jarring to me as a reader – and the problem is that small children often sound young, but their words transcribed onto paper don’t, with the exception of a few grammatical errors. I did a little digging around and found this post that was incredibly helpful.

From Robert J Sawyer, some great tips on the differences between real speech and dialogue, using profanity, and characters who are not native English speakers.

For some great tips on dialogue mechanics (including advice using tags), there is a nice short post at this link. Ellen Jackson does at her blog, which focuses on children as well – take a look. Nathan Bransford did an excellent post on this subject in 2010 .

Chuck Wendig’s 25 things you should know about dialogue is my favourite list in this bunch. If you don’t mind profanity, just follow his blog period.

I recently discovered the “Editor’s Blog” – what a resource that is – and there are two great blog posts on this subject. One of them have examples of bad dialogue and the other focuses on some structural issues in your story related to dialogue  - both are worth a look.

Finally, I recommend chapters 5 and 6 of  Self-editing for Fiction Writers. This is an excellent book on many aspects of writing – worth every penny.

This is a longer blog than normal but I hope you find it helpful!