The Deadly Pitfalls of Dialect
In my last blog about critique groups, I mentioned my mortification at being told my “novel” sounded like a “report.” Well, that wasn’t the only criticism I had to contend with.
One of the major characters in Time Exposure is Alexander Gardner, a famous (real) Civil War photographer. Gardner hailed from Paisley, Scotland and arrived in Washington, D.C. in 1856 with a thick Scottish accent. How was I to handle dialogue? I wanted to make sure that the reader knew Gardner was from Scotland. So, I added a bit of dialect. Check this out:
“I must speak to ye, Joseph.” Gardener took a deep breath. “I’ve had a special offer I must consider. Mind ye now, it doesna preclude my maintaining an association with Brady. But, I want ye to be part of me decision.”
I also sprinkled in lots of dinnas, shouldnas, couldnas, ayes, me for my, etc. Ugh. The reader couldn’t possibly forget that Gardner was from Scotland. Or care. He’d already given up on the book.
Thanks to my critique group my eyes were open to this dialect dilemma. I began to notice it in other novels. Too much of an accent: “How vould you vant me to wote?”
Or overuse of slang: “He needs to mellow out, he’s bonkers and that’s too dicey for this girl.”
Or clichéd idiomatic expressions : “Once in a blue moon, we see eye to eye, but you’re usually on the fence, which only adds insult to injury.”
Eeek. The use of “casual” spelling such as lemme, or gimme, can be used . . . sparingly. Dropping “g” for a word ending in “ing” gets tiresome too if used every other sentence. We have to give the reader credit and assume that by dropping a slang word, accent or expression in, they’ll get the point and as they continue to read that character’s dialogue, they’ll naturally hear the dialect.
Some of the worst examples of overusing dialect can be seen when characters have southern or New York accents. Like the use of “Ah” for “I” or “y’all for, well, you know. Then there’s the exaggerated Brooklynese – “toidy-toid and toid street” or “poils for the goils.” (These may actually need translation!) I grew up in Brooklyn and, frankly, you do hear this. It’s one thing, however, to add it to a movie, where you can hear the character say it. It’s another to read it in a book ad nauseam.
So how do you get the character’s geographical location, or educational background across? The best way is through the rhythm of the dialogue and the words you choose. One “aye” from my Scotsman and the reader hears his accent through the rest of the dialogue. To portray a well-educated German you might avoid contractions and use the full words to make the speech more formal sounding: “I should not bother with that if I were you. Do you not think so?”
In the end, you need to do your homework. Learn the true dialect, accent, slang expressions of the region your characters come from, both geographically and historically. Depending upon the time period, speech was often more formal than we’re used to today.
Practice yourself. Once you know how the dialect really sounds have your character try it out in dialogue in a scene. Read it aloud. Very important, to really hear the effect, you must read it out loud. You’ll find you will most likely want to eliminate all but a smidgen of the dialect. What will be left is the essence of your character.
Then fuhgeddaboutit!
I think we all wrestle with this one, Lynne, at some point. Thanks for writing on an important topic to put into the novel-planning mix. I get it. More is less!
Hi Sharon,
Thanks for reading. I thought only writers noticed these things. Then I posted on “readers” sites and they noticed also. Funny thing is sometimes you don’t know what’s wrong with a book (as I said in an earlier blog) but you’ve lost interest in it. That’s why you need more than a good story. Good storytelling includes technical handling of the subject as well as the creative.
Lynne
This is always one of those judgment calls…too much dialect-lose readers, too little-lose character impact. My self-imposed rule is simple. The first time a reader meets one of my “special” characters with unusual speech patterns, I will fully immerse the reader in the dialect, accent or regional slang. After that, I limit such words to one (occasionally two) such event per sentence…just enough to carry the impact forward without causing the reader to hesitate in the story. Beyond my own “rule,” I don’t know of any strong guidelines on the matter. I recently asked a senior underwriting in a major pubilshing house this question and she pretty much said that creative writing leaves that decision to the writer, so it’s best to think about how such writing interferes with or enhances the reader’s understanding of the story. GREAT blog content! Thanks…Dean
Whoops…”senior underwriting” should have read “senior editor”…I’ve been in the insurance business TOO long!
Hi Dean,
Thanks for your comments. I agree with them and liked your blog! (I tried to respond, but it got lost in the ether somewhere.) So here is my response. I think when you first meet a character with an “impressive” dialect, sock it to the reader hard in a few sentences. Then just sprinkle in an occasional slang word or phrase after that. In your examples of singing, here are my thoughts:
sing’n- looks like two words, sing in (as in the shower)
singin -looks like a typo or misspelling
singin’ -looks like slang for singing. This is the one I’d use!
Lynne