Editor Notes: Body Language and Dialogue Tags

Conversations between characters is dialogue. (There’s also inner dialogue, like a character’s thoughts, but that’s confusing because the di- prefix implies two… but we won’t get into that here.)

Dialogue tags identify who spoke: he yelled, she explained, they said at the same time, etc.

Body language describes what the character is doing while they are speaking.

Example from one draft of Bennytown by Matt Carter:

“F*&% yeah,” Olivia says. (<—dialogue tag)

I wince at her choice of words. (<—body language) “Do you really have to, you know, say that here?”

Olivia looks at me like she thinks I’m joking. When she can tell I’m not, she says, “Really?”

I know I’ve said something wrong. “Can we pretend that I maybe didn’t say that?”

“You can pretend whatever you want, but it doesn’t change anything,” Olivia says, more amused than anything else. She cranes her neck to see if any ducks have made their way around the bend.

“Anything yet?” I ask.

“Nothing yet, but soon, I think,” she says, getting back to looking for the ducks.

Curious, I sneak a look at the business card Kathleen slipped me. She put a message right above her number.

THESE PEOPLE ARE DANGEROUS

WHEN YOU NEED HELP, CALL ME

(Want to read that story now, right? Highly recommend if you like horror.)

My tip for you as you self-edit your story is as follows: You almost never need dialogue tags if character voices are distinct and if you use body language appropriately. Often writers get into the habit of either using a ton of body language and no dialogue tags or no body language and only dialogue tags. There’s a balance, and while it’s hard to find it perfectly as you are self editing, I would start by first identifying the dialogue tags and seeing which can be cut without confusing the reader.

Then identify the body language that occurs during a conversation and see if a clear picture of the tones and feelings of the characters is being painted. If it just feels like two people are saying words but it isn’t clear how they feel about any of it—add in some body language!

Body language tips: It helps if the body language fits the characters and the scene. Avoid generic body language like grinning, smiling, chuckling, folding arms, etc. (though of course those have their place). Maybe a character has long hair, and she plays with it when she’s feeling comfortable. Maybe a character clasps and unclasps his watch when he’s nervous or distraught. Maybe characters are having a picnic and one needs to shade her eyes from the sunlight breaking through the leaves when the breeze blows. Think outside the box with body language.

Here is the edited version of the passage above. Can you notice what I changed?

“F*^% yeah,” Olivia says.

I wince. “Do you really have to, you know, say that here?”

Olivia looks at me like she thinks I’m joking. When she can tell I’m not, she says, “Really?”

I know I’ve said something wrong. “Can we pretend that I maybe didn’t say that?”

“You can pretend whatever you want, but it doesn’t change anything.” Olivia sounds more amused than anything else. Phew. She cranes her neck to see if any ducks have made their way around the bend.

“Anything yet?” I ask.

“Nothing yet, but soon, I think.”

Curious, I sneak a look at the business card Kathleen slipped me. She put a message right above her number.

THESE PEOPLE ARE DANGEROUS

WHEN YOU NEED HELP, CALL ME

Editor Notes: Geography

(This material corresponds with a FB Live I did for Owl Hollow Press. I talk about geography in minutes 9:47-14:30.)

Setting can make or break a story. The setting sets the mood, creates both opportunities and challenges for the characters (and therefore, for the author), and shapes the culture and mobility of the story. Here, I want to focus on the importance of getting the simple geography of a story straight. In some of the cleanest manuscripts I work on, I’ll find inconsistencies in the geography. This might look like an inconsistent number of days traveling to City A from City B, or the small island that has cliffs but no mention of the climb it takes to get to the cliffs, or a canyon system where dangerous beasts live and only has one exit or entrance.

In Witches of Willow Cove by Josh Roberts, Robby and his friends use a tunnel system to get around their town. On my second edit, I was paying more attention to the details of the tunnel system, and realized there were several entrances that were described similarly but were actually different. It was an easy fix for Josh to clarify and make entrances distinct, but it went a long way in making the world of Willow Cove feel that much more real.

In Del Toro Moon by Darby Karchut, Matt and his family are responsible for keeping the skinners (think wolves that look like they’re made of ground meat) within the canyon–called the Maze–located a mile from their home in the valley. After my first edit, I mentioned in the developmental letter to Darby that I had difficulties visualizing the geography:

“How big is the valley (I was picturing half a mile, but someone mentions it being several miles long)? Does the whole valley slope down from the Gate, or is there just an incline as you approach the Gate? How long is the Gate corridor? How big around is the maze–could they ride around and check all the exits in a day? I think a little more description in that first chapter would smooth these confusions out.”

Darby dove headfirst into hammering out the details, and figuring out the Maze allowed her to figure out some other issues she was having with world building and character development. The power of consistent geography!

I recommend drawing a map of your world, whether it be an entire new world, a contemporary neighborhood, or even a single house. Draw what you think the geography is, and then reread your manuscript. Whenever you mention a specific detail—a road name, how long it took a character to get from the sea to the trader’s office, etc—add that detail to your map. As you add the details to your map, you’ll see whether or not everything matches up!

Editor Notes: Realistic Injuries

(This material is pulled from a FB live I did for Owl Hollow Press. I talk about realistic injuries in minutes 5:45-9:45.)

Almost every book I read or edit involves a character hurting him or herself at some point, and if there are any fight scenes, there are (hopefully) serious wounds. The dilemma I’ve found that authors often have is trying to make their main characters sustain injuries–both to show their mortality and the reality they can’t fend off every blow–but the injuries can’t be too serious because what happens to the plot when the main character has to heal from a broken back? It slows WAY down. We don’t want that.

One counterexample: In the movie The Dark Knight Rises, Batman (Christian Bale) breaks his back and has to recover in the prison where Bane was born, and it turns into a super interesting way to learn about Bane’s back story.

Often an injury occurs, but then the next day the MC is back in the action, and this feels very unrealistic for the reader.

The Ghost and the Wolf by Shelly X Leonn

When I was editing this manuscript, the MC Penelope breaks a rib in one scene , and later in the same scene climbs onto a roof. That night, she bound the rib and then kept up with her friends (who investigate abandoned buildings…) while popping pain killers. I queried–it felt like too much. Shelly researched rib injuries and made changes by adding in more mentions of Penny’s pain as she’s was going about day-to-day actions, reminding the reader that yes, she broke a rib, and yes, she’s dealing with pain while doing everything.

So, as you strike the balance between fallible MCs and slowing the pace down, ask yourself the following about your characters’ injuries:

-Can the character realistically accomplish what is needed to move the plot forward with this injury? If not, consider adjusting to a more realistic injury—or get creative, like in The Dark Knight, and see if you can make their down time recovering intriguing

-Do your research: how long does it take to recover from this injury? Is that recovery time accurately expressed in your story? If not, how do you explain their fast recovery?

-What type of pain is expected during recovery? What actions will feel different to the character—walk with a limp, or feel lightheaded, etc. If possible, talk to someone who has experienced the injury, or have them read the scene and give feedback on the believability of the character’s actions with that injury.

Go forth and injure realistically!