Description, Dialogue and Development

As the time fast approaches for me to devote my working day to writing rather than `theraping’- a great leap into the financial unknown- I am trying to digest Stephen King’s wise words, or internalise them, in therapy-speak, so that he becomes my inner guide, helping me as I begin to craft that bestseller.

This week I’m looking at what he has to say about description, dialogue and character development.

Description is what draws the reader in to participate in the story. `It’s not just a question of how to, you see; it’s also a question of how much to. Reading will help you answer how much, and only reams of writing will help you with the how. You can learn only by doing.’ It’s a matter of balance, he suggests, with thin description leaving the reader `feeling bewildered and nearsighted’, while overdescription `buries’ the reader in details and images and hinders the forward momentum. I know that one of my great faults as a writer is a tendency to use too many adjectives, similes etc and it serves as a useful reminder to `kill all your darlings’.

King’s main point is that description `begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.’ Which is why whenever I see a film that’s been made from a book I’ve loved, I’m always disappointed by how the hero or heroine is portrayed, as I’d imagined them totally differently.

In summary, good description `usually consists of a few well-chosen details that will stand for everything else.’ The way he does this is fascinating: he takes time to call up `an image of the place’ (or person), drawing from my memory and filling my mind’s eye, an eye whose vision grows sharper the more it is used.’ Almost like a writerly trance. I’ve found I can do this in the middle of the night most easily or when swimming.

He goes on to discuss the use of similes. When they work, `a simile delights us in much the same way as meeting an old friend in a crowd of strangers does’. When it doesn’t work, then the results are funny and- to use a favourite word of mine- discombobulating. The example King uses is `He sat stolidly beside the corpse, waiting for the medical examiner as patiently as a man waiting for a turkey sandwich.’ He contrasts this with a favourite simile from Raymond Chandler: `I lit a cigarette that tasted like a plumber’s handkerchief.’

Dialogue is crucial in defining character. He cites HP Lovecraft as a terrible dialogue writer, `it’s stilted and lifeless, brimming with country cornpone (`some place whar things ain’t as they is here’). King refers to dialogue as a skill best learned by those able to listen to others, so I hope my soon to be erstwhile profession will have helped with that- I’ve spent thousands of hours listening to people’s life stories from all around the world. I’ve often fantasized about having a map and putting in a pin for every new client- I believe I’ve covered most European and Asian countries and quite a few Latin American ones. That said, I don’t have a musical bone in my body, so accents, dialect and cadence are something I know I will really have to work at.

King contrasts examples of poor dialogue with the skill of Elmore Leonard, in whose books conversations are lively exchanges that tell us a great deal about the characters. For King the best stories are always character driven. Annie Wilkes, the nurse in Misery, is frightening particularly because we get to see the world through her eyes and she’s not purely evil or mad, she also feels pity. `If you do your job, your characters will come to life and start doing stuff on their own.’ They need above all to grow and change, as the story unfolds and the reader accompanies them on their individual journey.

King declares that his characters are determined purely by the story he has to tell, `by the fossil, the found object, in other words.’ Which takes us back to Michelangelo and the block of marble, as mentioned in my previous blog.