PERFECT YOU: PERFECT DIALOGUE | SARA BIREN

 

What, exactly, makes a book memorable? There are a lot of ways you could approach this question. So much of it, for me at least, is feeling. How a book makes me feel (or not) as I’m reading. For example, just this morning, I finished listening to the new novel by the inimitable Emily Henry, Happy Place, performed by the inimitable Julia Whelan, and I know I’m going to be feeling this one for a long, long time. Sucker punch right in the solar plexus. A delicious ache in my heart.

But what about structure, the elements of fiction, the craft that goes into the book? What are the pieces of the puzzle that create those feelings in the reader? Sometimes, the setting stands out and acts as character. Sometimes, it’s an unforgettable MC and the journey they take. Sometimes–a lot of times for me, anyway–the dialogue stands out and makes the book memorable.

The first book that came to mind when I thought about memorable dialogue was Perfect You by Elizabeth Scott, published in 2008. I read it early in my journey to becoming a young adult author, a book I picked up randomly at my local library. When I’d finished, I read it again and then ordered a copy of my own. I’ve read it at least half a dozen times over the years.

As far as young adult novels go, it’s not overly sophisticated but it’s fun and angsty and I found myself immediately rooting for both the first-person narrator, Kate, and her maybe-love interest, Will. What details do I remember? Kate works at her father’s vitamin shop at the mall, and Will works at the mall, too, and there are friend and family issues typical of YA novels, and then there’s the dialogue and the banter between these two characters. That’s what immediately stood out to me.

Here’s what I wrote in my Goodreads review: “Very realistic dialogue. I read this one through twice because the dialogue between Kate and Will was so lively and authentic.”

A snippet:

She laughed at me.

I should have been furious, and part of me was–part of me actually hated her then–but after she walked by I just stood there, trying not to cry.

I didn’t, even though I wanted to, and somehow made it through my next few classes. I hid out in the guidance office looking at college brochures during lunch, though, wanting a break from acting like I was okay.

Naturally, this meant that when the bell rang and I went out into the hallway, Will was there.

“There you are,” he said, like he’d been looking for me. “Heard you ran off crying into the bathroom.”

I gritted my teeth. “Well, now that you’re here, I might.”

He grinned. “I knew you were too tough to hide in the bathroom, much less cry.”

“Right.”

His smile faded. “What? I was just saying–”

“Look, what do you want? Yes, I work for the vitamin nut at the mall. Yes, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out, he also happens to be my father. Yes, apparently Diane’s mother was at my house and I’m sure she suffered terribly, but you know what? I just don’t feel that sorry for her right now.”

“I figured your heart wouldn’t be breaking over that,” he said. “And I think it takes a certain amount of courage to wear a bee costume.”

“Wow, thanks. Now I feel loads better. Don’t you have a girl you should find and feel up before class starts or something?”

“Monica and I stopped hanging out last week. I’ll try not to take it personally that you didn’t notice.”

“Who can keep track with you?”

“Nice to know you’re trying,” he said, grinning again, and then headed off down the hall.

The fact that I still think about this all these years later is pretty significant.

Personally, I love writing dialogue, especially if there’s tension or conflict involved. Sometimes, if I know a “fight scene” is coming up, I’ll skip ahead and write it. I love exploring relationships with dialogue–and not just romantic relationships. Here’s a piece of dialogue between main character Holland and her older brother Hunter from my 2019 novel, Cold Day in the Sun:

Someone knocks on my door as I’m blotting my pale pink, shimmery lip gloss. Hunter pokes his head in.

“What happened to your face?” he asks, and I throw a used cotton ball at him. It lands several feet short of the target. He bursts out laughing.

“How was the show?” I ask.

“Killer. You’d love these guys. Kinda reminded me of Chevelle. I picked up their vinyl and the lead guitarist came out to the merch table after the show and signed it for me.”

“Cool.”

“I went to T.J.’s party after but Hot Sauce told me you’d already left. He seemed pretty cheesed about something. What’s his deal?”

“How should I know?” I snap.

“Settle,” Hunter says. “I didn’t come in here to get bitched at. I came in to tell you good luck on your interview.”

My irritation deflates. “Sorry.”

“So, if you can’t tell me what’s up Wes’s craw, why don’t you tell me what’s up yours?”

“Nothing is up my craw, thank you very much.”

“Bullshit.” Hunter comes into the room and shuts the door behind him, then moves a stack of books and my team jacket off my desk chair and sits down. “Come on, Holls, I wasn’t born yesterday. You’ve got that look.”

I snort. “Which one?”

“The one you get when your brain won’t shut off and somebody needs to remind you to breathe.”

At that, I let out a long exhale.

“See what I mean? What are you twisting in knots in that brain of yours?”

“How much time do you have?”

So, how do you create lively, authentic dialogue? There are entire books dedicated to this topic. The great writing instructors of our time–for me, Stephen King, Anne Lamott, and real-life teacher Terry Davis–undoubtedly have much to say about it. But I think I can boil it down to one word:

Listen.

Listen to how people speak to one another. Eavesdrop at the airport or in the dance studio lobby or at the grocery store or coffee shop. Listen to how teenagers talk to one another and how that changes when they speak with adults. An entire story could blossom from one overheard conversation.

Watch movies. Read the dialogue from your favorite books out loud or listen to the audiobooks. Pay attention to inflection and intonation. Read your own work out loud–I recommend this for a lot of reasons, including a deep dive into dialogue. Is it authentic to each character, or, if it’s not, why not? What’s happening in the story to drive the dialogue?

For me, it's impossible to read a book or watch a movie and not think about the dialogue (and how it impacts characterization). What about you? What memorable books have you read recently? What stands out to you and makes them memorable?