Make A Scene (24 page)

CONTEMPLATIVE SCENE MUSE POINTS
_

• Use contemplative scenes to slow down action in the narrative.

• Signal that the contemplative scene has begun as quickly as possible.

• Focus on the protagonist's inner life.

•The protagonist must grapple with a conflict, dilemma, or decision.

• Utilize setting details to create dramatic tension and set a mood.

• Use the end of the scene to shift the energy toward action.

Dialogue is one of the most versatile elements of fiction writing because it can achieve multiple effects. When done well, dialogue can even be a scene-stealer. Most of the great lines in literature were
spoken
by characters, not narrated. This chapter will focus on scenes that are composed primarily of dialogue—not scenes with the occasional line of dialogue tossed in.

Dialogue scenes find their way into narratives of all genre types because of the versatility of conversation, so undoubtedly you'll wind up using these scenes. When dialogue is done right, it tends to feel fast, and therefore can be used to pick up the pace and propel your plot and characters forward. Dialogue is a great conflict builder too, as characters can argue, fight, and profess sentiments in words. It's also a wonderful medium for building tension, as characters jockey for power, love, and understanding.

OPENING A DIALOGUE SCENE

Before you start the scene, you'll want to decide if you're going to use dialogue to convey action, or to reveal character, plot, or backstory information. One of the most common errors is the use of dialogue as filler, with characters discussing the time or the weather. Don't make the assumption that dialogue scenes need to open in the middle of a conversation, either—in fact, this is often a confusing way to open a scene. A dialogue scene can open with one of the elements discussed in chapter two—for instance, you can use a scenic launch, or a narrative, action, or character launch—but then move quickly into dialogue. Here are some essential guidelines for opening this type of scene:

• Ground the reader in the setting before the conversation begins.

• Let the conversation begin within the first couple of paragraphs.

• Involve your protagonist in the conversation.

• Make it clear who is speaking to whom.

• Infuse conflict or opposition into the dialogue.

In J.D. Salinger's classic novel,
The Catcher in the Rye,
there are many dialogue scenes between protagonist Holden Caulfield and the minor characters who populate the story, and these serve many of the functions of dialogue as described later in this chapter. Salinger is good at setting up dialogue scenes so that they reveal character without being confusing. Here's an example of one such scene, in which Holden has come back to the dorm late and wants to talk to his roommate, Ackley:

A tiny bit of light came through the shower curtains and all from our room, and I could see him lying in bed. I knew damn well he was wide awake. "Ackley?" I said. "Y'awake?"

"Yeah."

It was pretty dark and I stepped on somebody's shoe on the floor and damn near fell on my head. Ackley sort of sat up in bed and leaned on his arm. He had a lot of white stuff on his face, for his pimples. He looked sort of spooky in the dark. "What the hellya doing anyway?" I said.

"Wuddya mean what the hell am I doing? I was tryna
sleep
before you guys started making all that noise. What the hell was the fight about, anyhow?"

Notice how the scene meets all the criteria laid out above—we're grounded through the setting, we can see that it takes place in the dorm room. The protagonist, Holden, is the one coming into the room. We know it's him because we're in his point of view, and we know he's talking to Ackley because he calls him by name. The dialogue then begins almost immediately after we know where we are, and it's full of conflict—he's ticked off his roommate by waking him up, so there's potential for the conversation to be fraught with further complication.

Though you want to get into the dialogue fairly quickly, you don't necessarily have to do so in the first sentence—it may even start a few paragraphs in. Remember, grounding the reader in physical details is important so she doesn't get confused, but the details should also reinforce qualities about the protagonist. This is a coming-of-age story, after all, so Salinger invites us in to the dorm-life experience through his choice of details.

DIALOGUE AND BIG REVEALS

Dialogue is a wonderfully versatile technique for giving the reader information necessary to drive the plot forward or deepen character understanding, without resorting to exposition. Through dialogue you can show the reader who your protagonist is, reveal the effect the protagonist has on other characters, and introduce new plot information that drives the narrative forward.

Revealing Character

One of the best ways to express your protagonist's personality, feelings, and perceptions is through his own words, rather than in exposition. Doing so allows the reader to feel as though he is right there in the same place as the character, getting to know him through direct experience. When the purpose of a dialogue scene is to reveal character, you want to:

• Show the character speaking under pressure or in conflict.
Always avoid mundane conversation.

• Let your protagonist's true nature come through in words.
Is he

brave? Then show him speaking words of hope and courage. Is he seductive? Let him pull out all verbal stops to seduce every woman he meets.

• Show him expressing his feelings or thoughts about the significant situation or the most recent plot events.
Through the character's internal dialogue and external action, you can show his personality.

In Truman Capote's brilliant novella
Breakfast at Tiffany's,
his main character, Holly Golightly, is revealed to the reader through memorable dialogue. Holly is rash and bold and sexy and girlish all at once, and this is conveyed every time she opens her mouth or appears in a scene.

The first time the narrator meets Holly, it's via an exchange she has with a neighbor:

The voice that came back, welling up from the bottom of the stairs, was silly-young and self-amused. "Oh darling, I am sorry. I lost the goddamn key."

"You cannot go on ringing my bell. You must please, please have yourself a key made."

"But I lose them all."

"I work. I have to sleep." Mr. Yunioshi shouted. "But always you are ringing my bell. ..."

"Oh,
don't
be angry, you
dear
little man: I won't do it again. And if you promise not to be angry" —her voice was coming nearer, she was climbing the stairs — "I might let you take those pictures we mentioned."

Though the phrase "silly-young and self-amused" tells us about Holly's tone, her words speak for themselves. If she is sorry, as she claims, then why does she refer to it as the "goddamn key"? Clearly, in her worldview, the key is at fault, not she. She calls her neighbor
darling
and
dear
to soften him up, and then promises him a few lines later that if he lets her off the hook she will in turn let him "take those pictures we mentioned."

We suspect that Holly is used to manipulating with her charm and beauty to get her way. Just a few paragraphs into the scene, Holly Golightly makes an impression and demonstrates her personality.

When you use dialogue to reveal character, the dialogue should be stylized and suited specifically to the character. An educated person speaks differently from someone who has never learned grammar. A rude person will say rude things and insult people with her words.

Revealing Plot Information

One of the most important uses of dialogue—and the most necessary in a plot-driven narrative—is to reveal pertinent information that moves the

plot forward, changes your protagonist, creates conflict, or leads the protagonist toward an epiphany. I like to think of this as the "Luke, I am your father" technique. The moment at which Darth Vader tells Luke he is not only his sworn nemesis, but also his father, is a huge turning point in the movie's plot and in the development of Luke's character. It forces Luke to choose between good and evil, and tests his ability to resist his own destruction. Now, not all reveals are this epic, but dialogue is one of the best ways to drop these emotional bombs and drive the plot forward.

When using dialogue to reveal plot information, consider the following:

• The information must be earned.
Avoid
deus ex machina
techniques. (This term comes from the Greek and referred originally to when a god dropped into a play to solve difficult entanglements. In fiction it refers to any overly simple or convenient technique or device that solves difficult problems without any actual effort on the part of the characters.)

•
You need to show your protagonist's emotional reaction to the new information.
The reader needs to see the character exclaim, gasp, shout, speak a word of surprise.

•
You must place the information drop in the middle of the scene or at the end to achieve the greatest emotional impact.
This helps to create a sense of urgency in the reader.

Here's an example of a big revelation from Maryanne Stahl's novel
Forgive the Moon
that both reveals character and drives the plot forward. Amanda Kincaid comes to a Long Island beach resort for an annual family vacation. Her oldest daughter has left for college; her husband is involved with another woman, and their twenty-year marriage is crumbling; and her mother, who suffered from schizophrenia, has recently died in an accident. The scene opens with Amanda's new lover coming to the door while her father is visiting her cottage. Her father doesn't know who the man is, but from the opening of the scene there's discord, a feeling that something is going to come to a head. And it does, but not in one fell swoop—the scene builds slowly and plausibly toward the revelation.

In the exchange of dialogue below, which falls in the middle of the scene, Amanda and her father—who have never been close—begin talking about mundane details, like Amanda's childhood fear of lightning, and segue to more serious topics of the past, such as her mother's illness, then Amanda's accusation that her father retreated not only from his ill wife, but his children. At first her father is shocked, but then he asks her a question that begins the process of his revelation about her piano teacher:

"Were you angry, Amanda, about my relationship with Gloria?"

"What?" Gloria Price had taught me to play the piano, redirecting my adolescent pain and fueling the fire of my nascent passion for music. Eventually, she'd moved away, but not before she'd made me promise to pursue my talent.

Gloria's voice was the first auditory hallucination my mother had ever described to me.

"Gloria," I repeated.

Suddenly, as though I'd been physically struck, I realized what my father was saying. "What do you mean?"

His fingers rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, lifting them till I thought they would fall off, but they stayed. He dropped his hands to his lap.

"Gloria and I," he said softly.

My stomach quivered, as though the low, rolling thunder outside had slipped in through the screen and become particles of air. My mouth grew watery, a sign I was going to vomit. I moved to lean toward the sink and as I did, sugar spilled out of the torn packet, pouring across one of my father's shoes. .

"Amanda," he began, reaching his hand around to my forehead. I slipped away from him.

"It's the tea," I said without looking at him. "The acid."

My father retreated toward the table and sat back in his chair. He began again. "Your mother and I never discussed Gloria," he said, picking up his spoon and dropping it into his empty mug. "Not in any rational way."

I recalled my mother's accusations. Gloria was her enemy, trying to harm her, trying to steal her children: all said to be hallucinations, all dismissed as evidence of illness. Now it turned out my mother had been right after all. She'd been right and she'd been ill, both at the same time.