Better Left Unsaid

When we write dialogue in a first draft, most of us try and make it sound informal and natural. Conversational, because it’s supposed to represent a conversation. But not too conversational, of course. If you transcribed verbatim almost any real conversation you hear in a day, you’ll read it back and realize it sounds much like incoherent blather. So you attempt a better version of the real thing.

When revising dialogue, though, I find myself cutting and cutting, trying to leave much of what I want revealed left unsaid. Because what’s unspoken is often far superior to what is spoken.

The point of dialogue in writing is not to be chatty and reach a word-count goal. It’s to convey certain information in a way most suited to conversation. By now you’re probably thinking, “Thanks for the tip, Captain Obvious.” But hear me out.

Let’s imagine Detective Sandra Blake, the heroine in your murder mystery, is interviewing Gustave, a witness:

Blake nodded. “What were you doing when you heard the scream?”

“I was in the kitchen, washing the dishes.”

Okay, that’s simple enough and probably truthful. Just not terribly interesting. What it needs is a less direct response. So maybe instead Gustave glances down for a second, and says:

“Nothing. I was in the kitchen.”

Now we have fewer words spoken and less information superficially delivered, but more meaning conveyed and more information below the surface hinted at. Gustave is less than forthcoming, even evasive. The glance away signals a lie. He was doing nothing? Just standing there staring into space? Detective Blake has already seen the kitchen, and she knows that the double sink has a window overlooking the courtyard outside. Gustave was in a position to glance out the window at the sound of the scream. Yet he’s avoiding the obvious.

Another approach is to have Gustave steer the conversation in a different and surprising direction:

Blake nodded. “What were you doing when you heard the scream?”

Gustave studied her evenly. “In my country, Detective, we learn not to hear.”

Remember, story without conflict is not story. Always strive for conflict, even in dialogue. And conflict is often strongest when it occurs without being said at all.

Watch the movie adaptation of Martin Cruz Smith’s 1981 crime novel, Gorky Park. The dialogue crackles from start to finish. Study the scene in which Soviet homicide investigator Arkady Renko, played by William Hurt, engages in a friendly chat in the bathhouse with American industrialist Jack Osborne, played by Lee Marvin. Superficially, it’s pleasant enough, but the tension beneath words spoken and unspoken is electric. Each line, each word, is freighted with threat and meaning. Renko is essentially saying—without actually saying it—I know all about you, and I’m coming for you. And Osbourne is saying, You’re way out of your league here, Junior, but would a nice little bribe make you go away? Brilliant dialogue, and you hang on every word.