One of the hardest parts of writing for many authors is crafting compelling dialogue. As you read this, remember that there are (almost) no absolute rules in fiction writing. What follows is simply my general approach to dialogue. I occasionally deviate from these guidelines, particularly when a character’s unique voice demands it (see Aitrix in the prequel I am working on), but I believe these principles can enhance one’s writing when applied thoughtfully.
Great dialogue serves multiple purposes: revealing character, advancing plot, and creating engaging narrative texture, the sensory and stylistic details that add to a story’s depth. “This budget meeting is a waste of time,” Karla said, straightening her designer suit. This line reveals something about her character through word choice, moves the idea of corporate conflict in the story forward, and adds texture to the scene via her action.
Nearly every line of dialogue in a work of fiction should serve a strategic purpose, in particular: revealing personality, advancing the story or plot, providing minimal exposition (peppered economically throughout the work), and remaining concise. “Your father always checked the generator before hurricane season,” Mom said. This single line establishes family history, suggests current danger, and implies the father’s absence.
Said should be the primary dialogue tag an author uses, with alternatives like yelled, shouted, or whispered utilized sparingly to indicate volume or quality if needed. We generally want the dialogue tags of a novel to blend in. “You need to move,” David said. “The fire’s spreading quick.” This keeps focus on the urgent situation rather than directing attention to how words are spoken. If we feel we have too many saids near each other, we can break them up with action or eliminate certain dialogue tags entirely if the speaker is clear from the passage’s context. Dialogue tags are not always required and are frequently overused.
Note as well that dialogue tags like replied, answered, and especially asked are unnecessary. Although replied and answered function like said but draw unwanted attention, asked becomes redundant when the sentence ends in a question mark. Instead of using asked, consider writing an action to identify the speaker, finding another way to attribute the dialogue (such as having a character name who speaks next or who just spoke), or eliminating the dialogue tag entirely if the speaker is clear from context. That stated, if we do use asked occasionally, most readers won’t notice or mind.
Writers should avoid or employ cautiously adverbs like “she said angrily” or “he said sadly” because they tell rather than show emotion, creating distance between readers and the scene. Adverbs often signal missed opportunities for stronger writing through action and context. Emotion in a story emerges principally through context and action. “I got the test results,” Michael said, crumpling the paper in his fist. This brief physical action conveys his distress without stating it explicitly. Body language supplements spoken words to create complete scenes. This approach will engage readers more deeply than simply describing how words are spoken. However, if a scene is already heavy with showing, sometimes a modest adverb can help move a reply along quickly while giving the reader a glimpse of the character’s feelings.
One important aspect of writing that many authors struggle with most is crafting oblique dialogue. Oblique dialogue occurs when characters respond in roundabout ways instead of replying directly; they might change the subject, speak cryptically, or offer responses that seem tangentially related or imply a complex sentiment. Although direct responses have their place, oblique dialogue mirrors how people naturally communicate, creating intrigue through dynamic indirectness rather than static yes/no exchanges. Like real conversations, it allows for subtext and nuance that isn’t outright stated. For example:
Anna twisted her wedding ring. “Have you talked to Beth lately?”
“The roses she planted last spring are dying,” John said.
Although Anna may (rightly) be irritated by this response, the exchange suggests relationship tension without directly addressing the conflict. Think of what Anna might say in reply, how John’s seemingly evasive statement might make her feel or react. Direct responses can flatten dramatic tension, while oblique dialogue draws readers into the story’s subtext. Imagine the scene merely with a direct response:
Anna twisted her wedding ring. “Have you talked to Beth lately?”
“No, I haven’t spoken to her since the divorce,” John said.
The direct version loses some of the emotional resonance and mystery that makes the first example compelling. The dying roses metaphorically suggest both the end of John and Beth’s marriage and Anna’s concern about her own relationship’s health, all without explicitly stating either. As a reader, I want to know why John didn’t answer Anna directly, and how she feels about it.
Yet obliqueness is not enough alone to make dialogue compelling. The characters speaking still need their own voice. Characters’ speech patterns reflect their unique personalities. “The carburetor’s shot—looking at least two hundred for parts,” Maya said, wiping grease from her hands. Her technical knowledge and casual delivery match her mechanic background. Generic speech patterns, by contrast, make characters feel more interchangeable and reduce their authenticity. For example:
“How much longer will the repair take?”
“My supplier in Oakland’s been jerking me around on those German parts. Might have to cannibalize that old Volkswagen out back.”
Versus the generic:
“How much longer will the repair take?”
“It might be a while because I’m having trouble getting the parts I need.”
The so-called golden rule of writing fiction, show don’t tell, demands natural dialogue that reveals character and story without too much artifice. For example:
“I’ll take first watch,” Daisie said, checking her rifle’s magazine.
“You did the last three nights.” Jake wrapped himself in a blanket.
This simple exchange establishes Daisie and Jake’s relationship, reveals they are in a dangerous situation, and shows their personalities through natural conversation.
Note that some of the examples above balance named references and dialogue tags while ensuring every line serves a narrative purpose. Writing dialogue with such precision is certainly more challenging at length, but through a combination of speech, action, and context, dialogue will flow naturally while carrying its story forward. Overusing either tags or names creates choppy prose that draws attention to the writing instead of the story.
Remember that dialogue in fiction must work harder than everyday conversation. Almost every exchange in a novel should reveal character, advance plot, and maintain believable authenticity. By blending the above elements—strategic purpose, natural speech patterns, obliqueness, meaningful actions, and appropriate attribution—our dialogue will engage readers while pushing our story forward. The goal isn’t to replicate exactly how real people speak, because that can itself be off-putting in a novel, but rather to create the illusion of natural conversation while serving our story’s deeper needs.