A Revision Exercise For Dialogue and Narration
Rewriting Fiction by Dividing and Reuniting Character's Exchanges
The initial unfolding of ideas in a short story or novel may be the most exciting, but revision is almost always essential for a story to be effective. With the Dialogue, Narration, Combination exercise, a writer is allowed to put herself in a new mindset when revising. After both phases of the exercise have been completed, the final combination should provide an improved version of the original draft.
Eliminate the Dialogue
A writer should start by converting the dialogue in a story (or an excerpt, if the story is lengthy) to narration. Don’t just eliminate it, but, rather, transplant the information. Dialogue uses language in such a way that the reader is going to come to conclusions based on what a character says instead of what is said about her.
Consider the following exchange.
She called me an hour ago and now here I am and there she is, sitting across from me at her kitchen table, one strap on her dress twisted and tight and the other touching her elbow. Staring, she doesn’t speak. She hurls words at me and holds back vomit.
“Well.”
“Well.”
“Beer?”
“No.”
She slurs, “Get one for me.”
I go and grab her one. I open it and set it in front of her.
She leans back. “Pick it back up and hold it.” When I do, she says, “I’m Irish.”
I tip the bottle in her direction. “Thanks for the railroads.”
There’s an obvious tension between the two characters, as evidenced by the terse exchanges and overall vacant atmosphere. What isn’t mentioned in the dialogue is just as vital: the dress straps, the stare, the slurring. What the writer must do is try to take those ideas and put them in a dialogue-only form. If it can’t fit naturally, it can’t go in (saying something like, “I see that one strap on your dress is twisted and tight . . .” isn’t going to work).
A revised version would look something like the following example.
“Well.”
“Well.”
“It’s been an hour.”
“I was giving you time to fix your dress.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered. Beer?”
“No.”
“Get one for me.”
“Fine. I hope you enjoy it more than swallowing whatever it is you’re trying not to throw up. Here.”
“Pick it back up and hold it.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Fine.”
“I’m Irish.”
“Well . . . thanks for the railroads.”
As a whole, this version is far inferior, operating in an almost clunky manner in order to make time for unmentioned actions to be completed (grabbing the beer, picking it back up, etc). However, both characters are allowed to be more snide, a quality that may translate well to a final draft.
Eliminate the Narration
Whereas dialogue reveals aspects of a character by showing how she uses language to describe herself, narration reveals aspects of a character by showing what and how the narrator chooses to describe her. Readers are generally more willing to believe what a narrator says outside of dialogue, bringing in the question of trust between the reader and the character. Liars are full of talk, and that’s usually where a reader will be looking for doubt.
Assuming the same story as above, a version with no dialogue at all may look like the following example.
She called me an hour ago and now here I am and there she is, sitting across from me at her kitchen table, one strap on her dress twisted and tight and the other touching her elbow. Staring, she doesn’t speak. She’s holding back vomit and hurling words at me: heavy, single-syllable statements with long, slurred tails.
I turn down her offer of a beer and oblige her request for another. When I set it in front of her, she tells me to pick it back up and hold it. The bottle’s already slimy with condensation and the general dirt of her house. She tells me she’s Irish, and I tip the bottle in her direction, thanking her for the railroads.
While equally as ineffective as the pure-dialogue version, the narration allows the writer to sharpen the use of “the gaze” in fiction writing. In this instance, the male is known through the writer, and because the male is the narrator, the female is known through the gaze of the male (everything comes from his POV) and – subsequently – the writer. The lack of dialogue gives the narrator time to allow his gaze to wander, giving way to improved lines about the words and the bottle.
Combine the Two Versions of the Story
After completing the two versions, the writer should combine them again, keeping the best parts from all three: the original, the dialogue version, and the narration version. Add dialogue tags as necessary and smooth it out from there. Carrying through the same example as before would yield a result similar to the following example.
Here I am and there she is, sitting across from me at her kitchen table, one strap on her dress twisted and tight and the other touching her elbow. Staring, she doesn’t speak. Instead, she holds back vomit and hurls words at me: heavy, single-syllable statements with long, slurred tails.
“Well.”
“Well.”
“It’s been an hour.”
“I was hoping you’d have time to—”
“Whatever. Beer?”
“No.”
She slurs, “Get one for me.”
I oblige and set it in front of her, open. “I hope you enjoy it more than swallowing whatever it is you’re trying not to throw up.”
“Pick it back up and hold it,” she says.
It’s muggy outside and in, and the bottle’s already slimy with condensation and general dirt of her house.
“I’m Irish,” she says.
I tip the bottle in her direction. “Thanks for the railroads.”
While not definitive, this version is far more developed stylistically than the first. Using this exercise on any piece should yield similar, pleasing results.
Related Article: A Writing Exercise Using Just a Newspaper
Related Article: The First Sentence Exercise for Young Adults
Related Article: The Character Elimination Exercise
A Revision Exercise For Dialogue and Narration
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