Day Seventeen - Dialogue

I am getting a bit of late start today, thanks to sleeping in (was up late seeing the new Star Trek movie), working out, and getting in much needed grocery shopping trip done. I haven't yet figured out if I prefer to write in the morning or afternoon. Ideally, I would be doing both, clomping away on the keyboard eight hours a day and churning out hundreds of pages. In real life, writing doesn't work like that for me. I think that some people do it, and I have no idea how. I am a little bit ADD and a tad dyslexic, and I don't generally do well forcing myself to perform a task for a long period of time. I'm more productive working in shorter spurts. The amazing 4.5k word count of a couple days ago was a really out-of-the-norm experience. I hope it repeats itself, but in general I am not usually that productive in a day.

I have to say that some days I just have no clue what to write on this blog. How do you convey to other people, who are not writers and have never read anything you've written, what it's like to form a writing habit without being blah and boring? "Today I wrote 350 words." I'm not really into word count. What matters is how the story has progressed and what I've written to advance the plot and story. (For those who don't know the difference, plot is the Action, story is the Emotional Journey the protagonist takes.)

So I think I'll blather on about another element of writing I enjoy, which is dialogue. I had a college professor once tell me that I am very good at dialogue. I love writing dialogue because it can serve so many functions in a story. Obviously, it is the characters communicating with each other, but within that communication can be many messages. You can use dialogue to show truth or falsehoods - such as a character saying one thing and meaning another. (One of my favorite writers, Sherwood Smith, uses this in her novel Crown Duel in which the courtiers use dialogue - and fans - to convey hidden meanings.) Dialogue can also distinguish between characters' backgrounds by the choice of words. For example, the Aru family tends to speak with more of a Regency England word choice. When you read their words, they should sound like they might be stepping out of a Jane Austen novel. Robin and Rory use some, but not all of their language, in my attempt to show that the people of the eastern towns originated from the west, but over the generations some word choices have been changed due to their isolation.

Finally, my favorite use of dialogue is to show action, rather than to flatly describe it. Of course, sometimes there is no substitute for a good action scene, but I do like to switch things up every now and then. I'll paste an excerpt here of my favorite scene doing this. Rory has been summoned to a house where Robin was assisting in a childbirth, and now she is unconscious.

“It was on account of Miss Jayne going into labor.” In came another woman: not Lucilla, but a lady wearing an apron and exuding an air of experience. “You’re Rory, her brother?” He nodded. “I’m Estelle. I help Hattie here with childbirth.”

            “What happened to my sister?”

            “We had Robin fetched here because Miss Jayne was having a very difficult time and was in a lot of pain. There weren’t enough hands to go around, and Robin had expressed to me before an interest in helping out. Also, we needed her to bring something for the pain,” Estelle added.

            Hattie the Midwife rocked back and forth in her chair and nodded. “Poor girl looked more frightened than Miss as she was pushing, but she soon proved pluck enough! She got Miss to swallow that medicine of hers all right and nice, and that’s saying something, ‘cause Miss was hollering something fierce! It sure seemed to help that poor girl.”

            “What Hattie means is that Jayne was having a difficult time of it. The baby was breech.” At Rory’s blank expression, she answered, “The baby was coming out feet first, and the cord was wrapped around its neck.” She paused, glancing out the small window. “When the baby was born it was blue and not breathing. We thought it would die. Poor Jayne kept asking us what was happening, and we kept working on that baby, getting the cord off its neck and trying to get it to breath. I think Jayne realized what was happening; she began screaming and crying hysterically.”

            Hattie nodded and muttered “Hmph” as she rocked back and forth. “And do you know what happened then?” Rory shook his head at her, wide eyed, as she pointed a gnarled finger at him. “That girl there, your sister, swift as anything, grabs that baby and presses it to her chest. She holds it and starts rocking it ever so slightly…” she seemed to pause for dramatic effect. “The baby starts to get back its color and next thing we know starts bawling! She then hands me back the baby, the dreamiest look on her face, and says, ‘He’ll be just fine now,’ smiles, sweet as anything, and then collapsed right there on the floor!”

            In utter shock at this recital, Rory barely noticed the midwife muttering to herself, “Girl’s a Greenwitch all right.”

            Estelle ignored this and continued the narrative. “We were unable to revive her, and with all the commotion right then we thought it best to move her. Lucilla and I brought Robin in here so Hattie could help Jayne with the baby. Hattie’s not as young as she used to be though, so I sent Lucilla to get you so I could take Hattie’s place with Jayne.”

            Rory’s head was in a whirl at all that seemed to have taken place, but a fierce protective desire had risen in him since that first knock on his front door. “Well I thank you ladies for watching over her, but I think my sister will be more comfortable in her own bed.”

            “I think it would be best to leave her here for the time being,” Estelle began, but Hattie interrupted. “Now, now, the girl woke up once. She’ll be all right. Better let her brother take care of her. We still have plenty to do here.”

            Estelle nodded, and Rory gently lifted Robin into his arms, light as a feather. She led him back down the stairs, and as she held the front door open for him, inquired if she might call at his house later to check on the invalid. Rory nodded and thanked her.