Captain America (Dialogue Tension) and Hot Tamales

We went to see Captain America last night. I know, Tuesday night date night--awesome! While I was on my roadtrip, we got behind on movies and had to get back on track with the summer blockbusters.

I loved Captain America. For one thing, it was great to see a superhero that wasn't flawed. He was chosen to become super for his integrity and values, and he remained true to them in courage to the end. It was refreshing after years of anti-heroes.

I love going to the movies for a lot of reasons. One is the popcorn. So salty, so fabulous. My friend Tina told me (possibly it was a comment on this blog!) that popcorn mixed with Hot Tamales candy is fantastic. I can't imagine she's wrong. I bet it's great. Cinnamon, sugar, salt, butter, heat. Yeah!
Are there too many references to hot things in this blog?


Which reminds me, the guy who played Captain America also played the Human Torch in Fantastic Four a few years ago. (Not my favorite film. All they did was stand around and complain they had super powers. Come on!)

As I was listening to the movie's dialogue, I noticed some great things about it. One, no phrase was wasted. Every single line served to reveal character of the speaker. It either explained some kind of background, some values he/she held, or some dream he/she had. Well done, screenwriters!

Another thing it did well was convey tension. Each line had conflict. Every sentence challenged another character's feelings or beliefs or ego. The romantic lines were especially good--no mushiness, all tension and strength.

I know, I know--a show like that shouldn't be a primer for how to do dialogue. We should refer to Woody Allen's older works or something. But this was good stuff, and I'm excited to get back to editing this morning and take a lesson from Captain America.

I think we all could.

Chocolate Voodoo Doll

I have been editing the dialogue in my novel, and I was thinking about something I read in James N. Frey's book (mentioned several times in this blog, and now again) about what's important in writing good dialogue.

First off, good dialogue is *not* conversation. There are no "throwaway" lines in dialogue. Every line should advance the plot, reveal character, or heighten conflict.

He says good dialogue is always:
* in conflict
* indirect
* clever
* colorful

Here's something colorful. Skittles. Mmm.

I don't think colorful necessarily means "colorful language" in the cursing sense of the term. I think he means it should create images in the reader's mind, reveal the way the character thinks, and make an impact.

By indirect, Frye explained, if one character asks a question, the reply shouldn't answer it directly. The feeling will be crisper if the answer is oblique or if the answer comes several lines later. This can intensify conflict between characters, as well.

His points are that dialogue needs to reveal conflict, reveal character, and to provide immediacy--meaning it speeds up the action of the story, makes it seem like it's happening *now* and not just being told about. Funny, telling through dialogue ends up being one of the best ways to "show not tell."

Frey suggests that in the editing phase, we should go back and reexamine ALL dialogue and determine where it could be fresher, more unexpected, create greater tension, and throw a greater impact. Sigh. It's really hard to do!

I have a favorite TV show, Leverage, and I love it because the dialogue rocks. Everything just strikes me as clever, and it's never what I'm expecting. I'm sure the writers are either geniuses or else they labor for hours and days and weeks coming up with the perfect snappy (or snarky) response.

The thing about all this "unexpectedness" requirement in dialogue is that it also seems to extend to all aspects of writing--to the character development, to the plot twists, to the name assignments of characters, to the titles.

For instance, Cookie Monster. The name--it's a juxtaposition of ideas. And it's a beloved character who has endured over 30 years in children's and adults' minds.

I think we're kind of like the people the Apostle Paul describes (and kinda scorns) of Mars Hill, always looking about to see something new. It's human nature. We like what surprises us, what's different.

Now, candy-wise, here's something different. Lobster lollipops. I think I've eaten them before. Cherry flavor? Does that ring a bell? It's dinner time. I'd like one right now, to be honest.

Or this chocolate voodoo doll. What could be more appealing than a surprise like this?

I just love surprises--in candy and in good writing.