How to Write a Brilliant Romance: The Easy, Step-By-Step Method of Crafting a Powerful Romance (Go! Write Something Brilliant) (14 page)

Here’s
the
scene,
and
for
study
purposes,
I’ve
just
used
the
spoken
words.
(By
the
way,
if
you
really want
to
get
deep
with
dialogue,
try
reading
a
play.
The
dialogue
is
all
they
have,
and
they
have
to convey
every
emotion
through
how
they
deliver
that
dialogue,
and
the
action
they
put
with
it.

Especially
since
it’s
hard
to
see
someone’s
face
on
stage.
It’s
a
great
exercise.)

“Dani, it’s okay—” (Will has just snuck up to her in the woods and is trying to keep her from being afraid, to save their relationship.)

“What part of you scaring my skin off is okay? And why do you have to always dress like a mercenary when you’re in the woods? Good grief, Will, who do you think you’re going to get in a fight with, a great horned owl?” (She’s scared, but hiding it, and she’s confused by his attire.)

“I checked this cabin. She’s not here. And neither should you be.” (Will, trying to get her out of the way, and moving toward safety, hopefully so he can keep on searching.)

“And, why is that, Rambo? Is that an assault rifle?” (Dani, angry and trying to get information out of him.)

“I’m just being prepared.” (Will, trying to keep their friendship intact, trying to tell Dani about himself without giving his identity away.)

“To what, shoot and skin your own deer? With a . . . what’s that, an M- 16?” (She’s pointing out the absurdity of the situation, and really digging for info.)

“AM4A1 carbine, sort of a mountain warfare rifle.” (He’s just about to reveal his identity--he so wants to be honest with her.)

“Oh, right. My mistake. I have one of those in my car, because, you know, every good woodsman should have one. I think you’ve taken this search and rescue thing too far. This is not a top-secret special ops mission. What part of this says bad guys?” (She doesn’t want him interfering with her mission, and is now mad at his lies.)

“Dani, please, trust me. You need to go home and let me find this girl.”

(His emotional goals—for her to trust him, despite all evidence to the contrary.)

“See these little white crosses? They mean we belong out here. Our job is to Search and Rescue. Do you, by any chance, see a difference between, say, my outfit . . . and yours?” (Dani, now independent and back into SAR mode.)

“Okay, just yell at me when we get off the porch and back into the woods.” (Will, trying to keep her safe, and get them back on course.)

“What’s going on, Will?” (Dani, nearly at ultimatum point.)

“I dunno. But I do think that this girl is somewhere in one of these houses, and I can find her by myself.” (Will, being as honest as he can—in hopes of accomplishing all his goals, also a hint at the spiritual lies he’s been telling himself.)

“You know, I truly believe that, somehow, deep in my heart. But just for kicks, why don’t we use the K-9 that we’ve spent a year training?” (Dani, again relying on her SAR skills.)

“Dani, please, for the last time, you need to leave.” (Will, putting his primary goal on top.)

“Give me one good reason. One.” (A final challenge for the truth.)

“Promise to listen to me? And, to obey me if I tell you to do something?”

(Will, his emotional needs leaking out.)

“I know the words, ’you’re not the boss of me,’ sound slightly kindergartenish . . .but, you’re not the boss of me. C’mon Kirby.” (She’s finally mad and is not going to listen.)

“You’re not going anywhere without me, Dani,” And I am the boss of you, starting right now.” (Will, realizing he can’t accomplish his emotional goals, and sacrificing them for the plot goal.)I love this scene because it’s a pretty unveiled scene, as far as emotions go, and I don’t pull the punches with Dani. I let all her anger show through. I hope you can hear Will pleading, and then his tight voice as he finally resigns himself to the inevitable. That’s a great way to add conflict to a scene: Don’t pull your punches. Let your characters say what they really mean. Letting your character off his leash will cause him to say all sorts of crazy things, and create sparks that build to an inferno.

And
that,
of
course
is
the
Zingers
in
the
Sizzle.
I
call
them
Fighting
Words.

Interruptions:
“Dani,
it’s
–okay—”
“What
part
of
you
scaring
my
skin
off
is
okay?”

Name-calling:“And, why is that,
Rambo?”

Sarcasm:
“I
have
one
of
those
in
my
car,
because,
you
know,
every
good
woodsman
should
have
one
.” Accusations:
“Good
grief,
Will,
who
do
you
think
you’re
going
to
get
in
a
fight
with,
a
great
horned owl?”

Zingers
or
Fighting
Words
are
anything
that
makes
the
dialogue
sound
real
(only
not
real,
as
we’ve pointed
out
earlier).
Think
of
them
as
the
things
your
mother
told
you
not
to
say
in
an
argument. Here’s
your
opportunity
to
say
them!

However:

Avoid
long narrations about information the readers already know.

Avoid
giving a history lesson. Let us infer it from the dialogue

Here’s
a
helpful
technique:
Find
the
“hook”
or
the
zinger
in
every
sentence,
and
have
the
characters react
to
that.
It’s
sort
of
like
a
snowball
picking
up
pieces
of
snow
as
it
hurtles
down
the
mountain.

Examples:

“I
don’t
feel
like
going
to
school
today,”
Sarah
said,
the
covers
pulled
up
to
her
chin.
I
noticed, however,
that
her
mascara
didn’t
bear
at
all
the
resemblance
of
an
overnight
smudge.

“School? Where do you feel like going today, huh? Maybe the mall?”

Or:

“I
don’t
feel
like
going
to
school
today,”
Sarah
said,
pulling
the
covers
over
her
head.

“Yeah,
well
I
don’t
feel
like
going
to
work,
either,
but
that’s
life.
Deal
with
it.”

I
used
two
different
hooks
in
each
sentence,
and
it
gave
each
a
different
direction
for
the
dialogue
to go
next.

But what if we don’t have a big fight scene? How can we make that resonate?

I
repeat:
You
can
create
tension
in
any
scene.
You
just
have
to
dig
for
it.
Let’s
take
a
normal conversation,
wrap
it
up
in
opposing
goals,
and
see
what
happens.

Let’s
say
a
husband
comes
in
from
work
and
sees
his
wife
dolled
up
and
looking
pretty.
He’s
too tired
to
go
out,
but
they
had
a
fight
this
morning,
so
he
wants
to
make
nice.
But
he
also
is
hiding
the fact
that
at
work
he
was
really
tempted
to
go
out
with
his
beautiful
new
female
partner
because
his wife
has
been
so
distant
lately,
and
he
is
feeling
guilty
about
that.

So,
underneath
the
surface,
he
wants
a
reason
to
1.
Get
mad
and
justify
his
temptation,
or
2.
Just
get through
the
night
without
a
fight.

Meanwhile,
his
wife,
who
has
been
home
with
the
kids
all
day,
is
feeling
ugly
and
desperately
wants to
make
up
with
her
hubby.
And
she
suspects
that
he
might
be
seeing
someone
else,
and
just
wants to
see
that
he
cares.

So,
their
dialogue
might
play
out
like
this:

“What’s the occasion?” he asks. (I’m not sure what to expect.)

“No occasion. Just wanted to look nice. How was work?” (Don’t I look nice? Don’t you notice me? )

“You always look nice.” (Don’t ask me about work, I don’t want to be reminded of what I nearly did. Another great dialogue device: dodging the question.)

“The baby spit up on my other outfit.” (I was home, all day, taking care of the kids. I need some encouragement.)

“What’s for supper?” (He’s hinting that he doesn’t want to go out.)

“I haven’t even thought about it, what with Jimmy’s soccer club and Amy’s school project. And I have choir practice tonight.” (Family, church, responsibilities— see, someone has to take care of them!) “I s’pose I could throw in a frozen pizza, again.”

“We had that last night.” (Nothing will ever change.)

“So, you don’t want pizza?” (You don’t want me, even though I work so hard to take care of you and the kids?)

“
It’s not really about what I want, is it? But what we have. Pizza is fine.” (I’m
stuck
in
this
relationship.
In
this
life).

“
By
the
way,
I
don’t
want
pizza
either.
But
the
kids
do, and
that’s what
matters.”
(I’m
not
happy
in
this
relationship,
either,
but
for
the
kids,
we’ll
stay
together).

Now,
that
seems
like
boring
dialogue,
but
set
against
their
goals
and
motivations,
there
is
a
lot
being said.
It's
just
that
it
is
all
underneath
the surface.
It
doesn’t
matter
what
POV
we are in,
we understand
exactly
what
they
are
saying
if
we
look
beneath
the
surface.
However,
this
dialogue
needs work,
so
we’re
going
to
ramp
it
up
with
external
conflict,
just
on
that
first
layer.
We’ll
do
this
by adding
in
some
Fighting
Words,
some
Zingers.

“You look real nice. What's the occasion?” he asks.

“No occasion. Just wanted to look nice. How was wor--?”
(First Zinger – interruption)

“You always look nice.”

“The baby spit up on my other outfit.”“What’s for supper?”

“I haven’t even thought about it, what with Jimmy’s soccer club and Amy’s school project. And I have choir practice tonight. I s’pose I could throw in a frozen pizza, again.”

“We had that last night.”

(Now, here come the accusation Zingers)

“And your point? You don’t want pizza? Maybe you don’t want a pretty wife, either, or clean kids. Maybe you want to go back to work!”

“It’s not really about what I want, is it? But what we have. Pizza is fine. Just perfect.”

“For your information, I don’t want pizza either. But the kids do, and that’s what matters.”

Note,
this
is
the
same
foundational
dialogue,
except
I
added
just
a
few
more
confrontational
words. And
suddenly,
the
tension
increased.
We
could
go
the
other
way
with
it
too,
and
add
a
different
kind of
tension.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks.

“No occasion. Just wanted to look nice. How was work?”

“You always look nice.”

“I do? The baby spit up on my other outfit.”

(See how that little, "I do?" interjects vulnerability? That’s a Zinger of a different sort. It jolts the conversation out of the ordinary.)

“Of course. Even with spit-up. What’s for supper?”

(And of course, what he says softens the conversation even
more.)

“I haven’t even thought about it, what with Jimmy’s soccer club and Amy’s school project. And I have choir practice tonight. I s’pose I could throw in a frozen pizza, again.”

“We had that last night.”

“So, you don’t want pizza? I don’t know–”

“Pizza is more than fine, honey. Just perfect, really.”

“By the way, I don’t want pizza either. But the kids do, and that’s what matters. I’ll throw some extra pepperoni on, just for you.”

Same
motivations,
but
different
outcomes,
with
a
few
tweaks.
The
thing
is,
behind
every
line
there
is a
motivation,
a
meaning,
and
you
need
to
keep
the
goals
of
the
conversation
for
each
character
in front
of
you
as
you
write.

But
even
this
is
just
mundane
dialogue
until
I
add
another
two
elements
of
Sizzle:
External
Activity and Body
Language

Every
dialogue
scene
has
to
have
activity
that
contains
meaning
.
When
we
are
in
a
scene,
just
to
have them
reacting
with
their
body
or
tone
makes
for
a
mundane
scene.
A
person
can
only
smile
so much.
So
you
want
to
wrap
up
their
words
in
actions
that
deepen
their
words.
Give
them
something to
do
that
accentuates
their
words:
kneading
bread,
as
she’s
keeping
her
voice
light
and
telling
her husband
that
it’s
just
fine
that
he
came
home
hours
late
without
calling
is
a
great
way
to
convey
that no,
it’s
not
all
well,
as
she
pounds
the
bread
to
a
pulp.
Then,
when
you
add
body
language,
it
means something.