6. No laughing matter

Seasons, senses & self

– Did you see that guy walking barefoot in the park today?
– Oh, that’s Foolscap. Paper-thin and poker-faced.
– Stopped to pick up a feather, then stood staring at a rowan tree.
– What, the one with nitrous oxide canisters strewn round it?
– Yep.
– Sure knows how to pick a scenic spot!
– Why does he wear such ridiculous attire?
– To say nothing of the quick-change hair dyes! Says it distracts attention from his rotten teeth.
– Didn’t notice those.
– You wouldn’t. He never speaks and never smiles.
– Sign language?
– Nah, texting. Even if you’re in the same room. Limericks usually. Bad ones.
– Weird!

Seasons, senses & self 6/365:
Nudging you to... write? reflect? walk? notice? flow?

White man (with jester's cap, grey stubble, a tuft of long grey hair, and 3 necklaces) stares unsmilingly at camera. Background: winter trees against blue sky.Dialogue has many uses. It can make it easier to use all the riches of colloquial English. And to play around with different points of view, personalities, and speech styles. Some writers start with a snatch of overheard conversation and build from there, creating imaginary characters.

You can also use it to represent your own internal dialogue. Or think through a problem by imagining the questions a sensitive friend (or a wise woman in a mythical cave or fairy-tale forest) might ask you. Or face down the critical voices in your head by writing down assertive answers.

Sometimes I find writing about myself in the third person can give a sense of perspective. And sending myself up can be quite liberating.

Read more on Seasons, senses & self:
The plan
Other posts in the series
Author's intro to the series
Contact the author (Chris Fewings)