I mean, it’s how people talk for cryin’ out loud. But I’m always amazed at the people who cannot make dialogue sound realistic. George Lucas, for example. Robin Cook is another one. He does okay when he has doctors in their natural setting but anything else sounds stilted. Someone on another thread mentioned the authors of the Left Behind series.
Anyone have any ideas why this is? Any authors whose dialogue especially makes you wince?
You try it.
No, really. Here’s a situation; a naive kid and an old man are trying to hire a mercenary/smuggler to give them passage out of a dangerous place. Now, write some realistic dialogue.
–John
Michael Criton’s dialogue is apalling. I think it’s because he’s trying to use the characters to say what needs to be said to advance the plot, rather than putting himself in the character’s frame of mind to determine what (s)he would naturally say in that situation.
For instance, in Rising Sun, the detective guy meets the computer chick (sorry, don’t remember any of the names,) and as one of the first things out of his mouth is, “Gee, you’re really beautiful! I’m suprised you’re not a model!” This Advances the Plot, because we immediately discover that computer chick has lost her hand in an accident. We also learn that the only fulfilling job for a pretty woman is to be a model, and that only a physical handicap would cause a gal to settle for being an expert in a challenging technical field instead of a glamorous model. :rolleyes:
Wild swings tone are also a big problem–this is Lucas’ downfall, I think. Ever read Shadow Moon, the Willow sequel? shudders at the memory If you’re writing an epic fairy tale, and everybody talks like it’s an epic fairy tale, then great. The noble heroine speaks with sophisticated grace, the innocent hero speaks plainly, the villian’s loathesome henchmen are coarse in a PC kind of way, the sage is cryptic, etc. . . When characters wildy oscillate between different styles, the inconsistency makes them unbelievable. Again, it’s a case of the author trying to speak through the characters to set tone, rather than thinking, how will my character be feeling in this situation, an how will that be reflected in his speech?
Naive kid: Where’s the bathroom exit?
Mercenary: Right there.
Old man: Thanks.
WTH?
“So what’s it gonna be?” the mercenary asked. “Five hundred. Take it or leave it.”
The old man grimaced and looked around. He’d already tried the other ships and their captains refused to even look at him and the boy.
“Five hundred dollars?” the boy gasped. “That’s more than my pop makes in a month.” The old man clamped a hand over his mouth. The mercenary had a dangerous look in his eyes.
“Shut up, boy,” the old man said. He ached. All he wanted to do was sit and rest. “Fine.” He handed over the bills. “But only if we get a cabin.”
The mercenary folded the bills and slid them into his pocket next to his gun. “Of course, grandfather,” he said with a smirk.
I should point out that I’ve written two novels and am 50 pages into a third. I’ve also been told I do dialogue pretty well.
“We just need you to get us out of the city. You can drop us off in Nexis.”
“It’s still five hundred.” The mercenary picked at a tooth with a dirty fingernail.
“But that’s too much,” the old man whined.
The mercenary shrugged. “You think I give a rat’s ass whether you get outta the city or not? Take it or leave it.”
The boy pushed in front of his grandfather. “You can’t talk to my grandpa that way. He used to be a soldier in the army and he could kick your–”
“Shut up, boy.” The old man clamped a hand over his mouth. He saw the way the other man’s jaw tightened and a look of hate flashed in his eyes. “Do we get a cabin?”
The mercenary smirked and went back to picking his teeth. “Sure.”
With a sigh, he handed over five bills. The mercenary counted them and slipped them into his pocket. “We leave in half an hour.”
“But we still have to get our stuff.”
“Then you’d better hurry.”
Er, I would say that it’s because dialogue is spoken and books are written. Some writers never get to grips with the difference. Also because if you transcribe dialogue as it really happens in, like, real life… like I’m talking to you, and everyone, here, you’d see, you’d see that real dialogue is messy, mundane and, er, really boring when written down on the page.
So most written dialogue in fiction isn’t too realistic to begin with.
But the why of it is what I don’t understand.
But that doesn’t explain why some movies have bad dialogue either. Their scripts are made to be spoken, so you’d think that the script writer would see if what he/she is writing would sound good and natural out loud.
What Futile Gesture says is correct: written and spoken dialogue are quite different. This is part of the difficulty in writing a stage- or screen-play from a novel, and vice versa. For instance: in written form it is tricky to convey the sense of several people talking at once, or one person talking over another, because of the linear way in which text is read; whereas on stage or on screen, you can just have people talking at the same time.
What the OP may have getting at is: what makes dialogue, on-screen or on-page, poor?
Short answer: dialogue is not every writer’s strength.
Longer, second answer: a story with plot-driven characters is bound to have bad dialogue. The writer is less concerned with what a person would really say in a situation, vs. what needs to be said to advance the plot (or get a laugh, or whatever). This is often going to sound stilted, staged, forced, out of character, out of place.
Maybe you’re right. Instead of getting into the character’s mind for a moment, they just write what needs to be written instead of what should be written.
Robin Cook’s biggest mistake is trying to make characters sound like people he’s apparently never heard before. Check out his Harlem street punks. They make me think of upper class doctors trying to sound like Snoop Dogg. “Let us turn this mutha out. You go girl. That dog won’t know what hit him.”
Your examples are alright; The second is better than the first.
Maybe you have knack for it, but most authors don’t find it easy to write dialogue. Realistic dialogue in both movies and books isn’t really realistic because it has to do more; it has to keep people interested, set up later plot lines, provide exposition… it’s not enough to just write it the way people talk. And for most authors, it’s difficult. If it’s not for you, well… it’s like someone who can do square roots in their head standing around saying, “But why can’t you do it?” There’s not going to be a satisfactory answer.
All right? ALL RIGHT? Why-why-that’s Pulitzer Prize-winning material right there. That’s-that’s at least worthy of a dozen literary awards. It’s–okay, it’s a five minute writing exercise. Thank you for the compliment.
Since I can’t do square roots in my head (Quick! What’s the square root of 2365434543?), I guess I sorta see your point. I still don’t understand completely though. It’s not like we sit around doing square roots all the time. We do, however, sit around and talk all the time.
throatshot, try this exercise sometime.
Tape-record a normal conversation between two people. Then sit down and transcribe the conversation to paper, verbatim. Compare this to the dialogue you write for your novels, minus the non-dialogue bits, of course.
From this you can easily see why print dialogue has to be so different than spoken dialogue, not just for the reasons Yue Han outlines, but because you would never get anyone to read it.
But some writers don’t perceive that they have written bad dialogue, either because they have not properly researched their characters, or no one tells them or because they don’t care that much.
That leaves your question: why do screen-writers often write such poor dialogue? Probably because they are just bad (dialogue) writers. People don’t always go to movies for witty repartee.
I think dialogue is one of those things a writer has to develop an ear for. And it has to start with having some kind of ear for it to begin with. Saying, “It’s just another type of writing” doesn’t do it justice. That’s like saying that because someone can play the correct notes on the violin at the correct time makes him a musician.
Just as some musicians are better able to bring the soul of a musical piece out in a performance, so are some writers better able to get a sense of their characters’ individual voices and put it into print, without making it sound stilted or being merely a transcription of actual speech.
But it takes practice. I’ve been told my dialogue writing is good and natural, but I’ve always had a good ear, I like listening to people’s conversations, and I studied drama, which is steeped in dialogue.
When I’m writing, my mind’s eye sees the setting and the physical traits of the people and their movements as the scene progresses. In some ways, I can just describe what I’m seeing. I do the same with dialogue, writing what I hear them say (then revising it to flow better). Some writers either haven’t or can’t develop their mind’s ear the way they have their mind’s eye. Or else they feel a need to “make” the dialogue accomplish something, so they force words into their characters’ mouths. The plot is advanced, and they may not give it another thought.
Having read interview transcripts and then watching the interview, I understand what you mean. ABCnews often has Good Morning America transcripts with movie stars.
DAVEW0071, I would be interested in your take on Yua Han’s exercise. Sometimes I worry that my dialogue is stilted and unnatural, but people do compliment me on it, so I have to hope they’re right.
Sometimes all I write is dialogue. I call them “PLAYS” 
Seriously though, to me, the thing with good written dialogue or even performed for that matter, is that it has to be quicker and shorter than spoken. An audience or a reader doesn’t want to sit through ums, ohs and pauses.
JANUS: What’s the plan, little girl?
DIANE: The plan is for you to shut up, me to get a phone call, you to be handed over to the authorities and me to get my check. I’d have driven you over there myself but Ceasar totaled my car last week. I’m at the mercy of a fucking escort. But believe me, five hours and you’re history.
JANUS: And what will you do then?
DIANE: Go on vacation. I’m out of Chicago in January, that’s for sure. To Prague I think. I hear it’s a hotspot.
JANUS: It’s shit. Don’t waste your money on Prague. Go somewhere warm and sunny where you can wear a little bikini.
DIANE: Please shut up. Please? For good ol’ Diane?
JANUS: Umbrella drinks. Girl drinks. You could lounge on the beach and get drunk and tar up your lungs with your precious cigarettes.
DIANE: Yes. I could. And here’s why: because I won’t be in prison.
That’s why I like old thirties dialogue the best. jimmy cagney stuff. Fast and witty.
jar
Sweet, jarbabyj. I like Diane already.
Me too. See, that’s good dialogue. You get a definite feel for the characters.
…and, although I have not read jarbabyj’s dialogue aloud (for fear of my co-workers thinking I’ve finally lost it), I’m sure what she has written sounds equally real and convincing to the ear – even though real people generally do not speak so succinctly or directly with every breath.
I mean, it’s hard to be that witty all the time; I should know. 
I’m like you, throatshot, in that I have been told that my written dialogue and dialogue scenes are vivid, well-crafted and illustrate the characters nicely. But I do imagine that I write dramatic dialogue nearly as well.