Tag-You're It

Someone told me I oughta stop giving books away in the hopes that someone would buy one. But what the heck, huh? :) Hang in there, read this through, and find a chance to WIN WIN WIN! Okay, all of a sudden Seekerville is in Vegas. How does a thing like that happen?

I've been writing a series on revisions for a finished book. Though it has occured to me more than once that people usually actually get DUMBER after taking advice from me, still I soldier on with my glorious advice giving.
I blame that on being a mother to teenagers. They never listened to me, so I just talked LOUDER.

Here’s what I look for as I give a book a final read through.
1) Grinding action to a halt--Read about that HERE
2) Consistency—Feel free to review that HERE
3) Telling--Read about that HERE
4) Dialogue tags
5) Comedy

Today, I’m writing about—Dialogue Tags

Here’s something interesting (well, to ME!).
I write dialogue first.

A lot of people hate dialogue, but I just love it. I wonder why that is? Something about being a middle child I suppose. I'll consult my psychologist and get back to you.

I like telling a story through the back and forth between two characters. Dialogue is fun for me. But it's the TAGS that make dialogue come to life. The tags make your story three dimensional.

I’m going to show you a snippet of Doctor in Petticoats, coming in July. . .three weeks from now, to illustrate how tags make dialogue come to life. AND THAT IS THE BOOK I'M GIVING AWAY!

As I write, I go into spells that are almost 100% Dialogue. I think it might be a learning disability. I'm applying for a handicapped parking sticker immediately.

Here's the set up:
Beth McClellen, a woman doctor coming home to Texas after years in school.
Alex Buchanan, a burned out army doctor who can't stand to dole out any more pain, even if it is to make someone better.
There's been a wreck on a stagecoach. Alex withdraws. Beth wades in to help.
Now, she needs another set of hands and Alex is the only one available.
Guess what? The two of them clash.

This is how I'd write it on the first draft.

Doctor in Petticoats

“We need help over here!”
The man didn’t even look up.
Beth looked down at the stage driver. “I’m going to get us some help.”
The stage driver said, “Good luck.”
She stomped to the man’s side and swatted him with his own hat.
“Hey!”
“I didn’t exactly sneak up on you, now did I?” She hit him again.
“Will you stop that?”
“Do I have your attention?”
He nodded.
“You get up off the ground and help us, you worthless skunk.”
“Get away from me.”
“You stand up right now. I need help. I don’t care how drunk you are, how lazy you are or how stupid you are. Right now I need some muscle, and I know you’ve got it. Get on your feet and get over there and help us, or so help me I will rip your arm off and beat you to death with the bloody stump.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Oh, puh-leeze, you expect me to believe you’re this worthless without the help of whiskey? If that’s true then I might as well shoot you here and now. Do the whole world a favor.”

Mary again:

That’s almost pure dialogue. And if I do it right--use a really well developed VOICE for each character, you can usually tell who’s talking. It’s very common for me to write-on the first run through-many pages like this. Most first drafts of scenes start with long, running strings of dialogue. I’m not saying this is the right way to do it or even a good way. It’s just MY way.

Next, I’ll go through and tag the sentences. This is a revision that needs to be made and I’m not trying to do it badly the first time, but it just seems to be how the first draft reads. Often I can't figure out who's talking...which is a bad sign that their voices aren't unique. On the second pass I’ll try and add body movements, tone of voice.

Beth surged to her feet and yelled, “We need help over here!”
The man didn’t even look up.
She looked down at the stage driver and the woman. “I’m going to get us some help.”
The stage driver shook his head doubtfully, “Good luck.”
Beth stomped to the man’s side, grabbed his Stetson off his head and swatted him with it.
“Hey!” He turned as if surprised to see her.
“I didn’t exactly sneak up on you, now did I?” She hit him again.
He shielded his face. “Will you stop that?”
“Do I have your attention, you miserable worm?” Beth threw the hat at his head.
He held his arms over his face and glared through his wrists at her.
Doing her very best to set his skin on fire with her eyes, she said, “You get up off the ground and help us, you worthless skunk.”
“Get away from me.” The skunk’s eyes flashed like he had rabies.
She leaned closer. “You stand up right now. I need help. I don’t care how drunk you are, how lazy you are or how stupid you are. Right now I need some muscle, and I know you’ve got it. Get on your feet and get over there and help us.”
The man’s eyes seemed to clear. “I’m not drunk.”
“Oh, puh-leeze, you expect me to believe you’re this worthless without the help of whiskey?” Beth jammed her fists on her hips. “If that’s true then I might as well shoot you here and now. Do the whole world a favor.”
Back to Mary:
So, that’s a little more fun. But I still need to do more. Dialogue tags are a rich source that need to be mined fully. You should show how they feel through body language. Bring the senses in. She calls him a skunk, we can develop that because our hero really stinks. What’s he wearing? How’s the weather? What’s the countryside look like around him. (I don’t include all of that in this one stretch--but the scene goes on, it got a little long for a blog post, but trust me, I include it here-eventually)
One more Time.

Beth surged to her feet. “We need help over here!”
The man didn’t even look up. He stared as if asleep with his eyes open.
Well, Beth wasn’t one to let a good temper tantrum go to waste and seriously, this afternoon had worn her out right to her last bit of restraint. . . and beyond.
Who better to punish?
She looked down at the stage driver and Mrs. Armitage, struggling to hold the injured man in place. “I’m going to get us some help.”
The stage driver looked with distaste at the other passenger. “Good luck.”
Beth whirled and used the hundred foot downhill march to get her knees to stop shaking. Not because she was afraid of this man. She still had her gun, but because the afternoon had just been more than too much.
She stomped to the man’s side and, carefully considering her approach—or maybe not so carefully—she grabbed the man’s filthy, flattened black Stetson off his head and swatted him with it.
“Hey!” He turned as if surprised to see her.
“I didn’t exactly sneak up on you, now did I?” She waled on him again.
He shielded his face. His once-white shirt tore up one side at his sudden movement. “Will you stop that?”
The sound of the ripping fabric—good grief it looked like silk—gave Beth a sense of doing the Lord’s work. She wondered how long he’d been wearing it. The cloth must be rotten to tear so easily.
“Do I have your attention, you miserable worm?” Beth threw the hat at his head.
He held his arms over his face, the bedraggled white sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbows, and glared through his wrists at her. His eyes narrowed.
It occurred to Beth that the man might be dangerous. Well, she could be dangerous, too. If he was, she’d make him sorry he showed that side of himself.
Doing her very best to set his skin on fire with her eyes, she leaned down, hoping to find a balance where she could rage at him without Mrs. Armitage hearing her. The poor woman had been through enough.
“You get up off the ground and help us, you worthless skunk.”
And wasn’t skunk just exactly the right word for the filthy pig?
“Get away from me.” The wormy, skunky pig’s eyes flashed like he had rabies.
Gritting her teeth so she could look fierce and still breathe through her mouth, she leaned closer. “You stand up right now.”
She hissed at him like a rattle snake, so she had a few animal attributes of her own. “I need help. I don’t care how drunk you are, how lazy you are or how stupid you are. Right now I need some muscle, and I know you’ve got it. Get on your feet and get over there and help us, or so help me I will rip your arm off and beat you to death with the bloody stump.”
The man’s eyes seemed to clear. Maybe she’d pierced the alcoholic fog. “I’m not drunk.”
Interesting that he hadn’t protested being called stupid or worthless or a skunk. . . what else had she called him? She’d lost track of her insults somewhere along the line.
“Oh, puh-leeze, you expect me to believe you’re this worthless without the help of whiskey?” Beth jammed her fists on her hips and straightened away from him. She had to get some air. “If that’s true then I might as well shoot you here and now. Do the whole world a favor.”




One other point to make, notice how much LONGER it gets. If you're trying to write a 100,000 word book that's a good thing.

~~~ Now to the contest. I'd like to hear what you think of dialogue. How hard do you struggle with the over use of 'he said' and 'she said'?
How many times to you over do it? His gut twisted and dived to his lower intestine, taking a right turn at his appendix before splatting against his broken heart.
His eyes flashed guilt and nerves, with just a bit of anger and despair, laced with laughter and everlasting love. (them are some busy eyes)
How addicted are you to adjectives? He said angrily. She replied sheepishly. He asked brokenly. She whispered poignently.

To get your name in a drawing for a signed copy of Doctor in Petticoats, leave a comment about dialogue tags that have tormented you--as a writer or a reader.



Disclaimer--I don't have my author's copies yet. But they should be coming in the next few weeks. I get them before the bookstores. So if you win, be patient, it'll come soon," she said. Dread lanced her stomach and lacerated her small intestine as she made a promise she might never be able to keep.

Or, if you've got another one of my books you've never read, I'll substitute any book of mine you'd like-if I have copies still," she hedged nervously.

"I think I've still got copies of all of them." Her heart lurched as she thought of the boxes and boxes and boxes of books stacked in her small rural home. Her husband even now might be using them to insulate the attic.

http://www.maryconnealy.com