Master the art of writing realistic dialogue with expert techniques, examples from bestselling novels, and actionable exercises. Learn how to avoid common dialogue mistakes and create conversations that reveal character and drive your story forward.
The Dialogue Trap That’s Killing Your Manuscript
You’ve written a brilliant scene. The setting is vivid, the stakes are high, and your characters finally face off in the confrontation you’ve been building toward for 200 pages. You hit save with satisfaction, knowing you’ve nailed it.
Then your beta reader writes: “I skimmed the dialogue in Chapter 14.”
Skimmed? Your carefully crafted exchange where characters reveal their deepest motivations? The conversation you spent three days perfecting?
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: According to a 2024 survey of literary agents, poor dialogue ranks as the second-most common manuscript rejection reason, right after weak openings. Yet unlike pacing or plot structure, dialogue is something writers encounter in real life every single day—which paradoxically makes it harder to write well.
We assume that because we’ve been talking since age two, we know how to write conversations. But dialogue in fiction isn’t transcribed reality. It’s a carefully engineered illusion that feels authentic while doing heavy narrative lifting that real conversations never accomplish.
The writers who master dialogue—from Celeste Ng’s emotionally charged family arguments to Taylor Jenkins Reid’s sharp Hollywood banter—understand a fundamental principle: every line of dialogue must work triple-duty, revealing character, advancing plot, and creating subtext simultaneously.
This guide will show you exactly how they do it.
What Makes Dialogue “Good”? (Beyond Just Sounding Realistic)
Before we dive into techniques, let’s establish what we’re actually trying to achieve. Good dialogue isn’t simply conversation written down—it’s a strategic narrative tool that accomplishes multiple objectives at once.
Great dialogue simultaneously:
- Reveals character personality, values, and emotional state
- Advances the plot through character action and revelation
- Creates or escalates conflict between competing interests
- Establishes relationships and power dynamics
- Provides necessary information without feeling like exposition
- Maintains or accelerates pacing
- Sounds authentic to the character and setting without being slavishly realistic
That’s a lot of weight for a few lines of conversation to carry. Which is why weak dialogue stands out so glaringly—it fails on multiple fronts at once.
The Dialogue Versus Prose Balancing Act
Here’s a mistake I see constantly in manuscripts: Authors fall so in love with writing dialogue that entire chapters become nothing but quoted exchanges with minimal narrative context.
“Hi,” Sarah said. “Hi,” Tom replied. “How are you?” she asked. “Fine. You?” “Good. Did you hear about the murder?” “No! Tell me everything.”
This pattern—dialogue doing all the work while narrative disappears—creates a weirdly disembodied reading experience. We’re hearing voices without context, seeing talking heads without bodies, watching a script instead of experiencing a novel.
Conversely, some writers avoid dialogue entirely, burying everything in narrative summary: “They discussed the murder for an hour, eventually concluding that the suspect must be hiding in the warehouse.”
Neither extreme works. The sweet spot combines dialogue with narrative to create dimensionality. Sally Rooney does this masterfully in Normal People, where terse dialogue contrasts with deep internal narration, creating layers of meaning between what characters say and what they feel.
The Eight Essential Principles of Powerful Dialogue
1. Every Line Must Advance Competing Agendas
Here’s the fundamental principle that separates amateur dialogue from professional: Characters must want something in every conversation, and those wants must create friction.
Even allies have different priorities, strategies, and information levels. Even lovers have moments of misalignment. Even friendly exchanges contain micro-tensions about who controls the conversation, what gets discussed, what stays hidden.
Weak dialogue (no competing agendas):
“How was your day?” Jennifer asked. “It was fine. I went to work and came home.” “That’s nice. I went shopping.” “Cool. What did you buy?”
Strong dialogue (competing agendas):
“How was your day?” Jennifer kept her tone light, casual. “Fine.” Mark didn’t look up from his phone. “Just fine?” She moved between him and the TV. “Because Linda mentioned seeing you at lunch. Downtown.” His thumb stopped scrolling. “Linda needs to mind her own business.” “So you were downtown.” Not a question.
In the second version, Jennifer wants information Mark doesn’t want to provide. That tension—that push and pull between competing objectives—creates engagement. We read on because someone will win this exchange, and someone will lose.
Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows ensemble operates on this principle constantly. Even when the crew plans a heist together, each character pursues individual goals within the conversation—Kaz seeking control, Inej protecting her boundaries, Jesper deflecting with humor, Nina gathering information. The multilayered agendas make every exchange crackle with energy.
Exercise: Take a dialogue scene from your manuscript. For each character, write down what they want from this conversation. If anyone wants “nothing” or “just to chat,” you’ve found your problem.
2. Dialogue Must Escalate, Not Meander
Real conversations wander. Fictional conversations build.
The trajectory of effective dialogue moves from point A to point B with increasing intensity or revelation. Characters might start discussing dinner plans and end up confronting buried resentments, but there’s a clear arc from lower to higher stakes.
The escalation pattern:
- Opening position: Characters state initial wants/positions
- First resistance: Opposition or complication emerges
- Escalation: Stakes rise, emotions heighten, or information deepens
- Peak moment: Confrontation, revelation, or decision point
- Resolution or cliffhanger: Either temporary closure or intensified tension
Look at any argument between Eleanor and Park in Rainbow Rowell’s novel. They don’t fight at the same intensity for three pages—there’s clear build. Small jabs become pointed accusations become vulnerable admissions become kiss-or-kill moments.
Common escalation killers:
- Characters who circle the same point repeatedly without progress
- “Witty banter” that goes nowhere (we’ll address this separately)
- Information exchanges without rising emotional stakes
- Conversations that end exactly where they started
Even quiet, subtle conversations should shift something—a relationship dynamic, a power balance, a character’s understanding. If nothing changes from first line to last, cut the dialogue.
3. Subtext Is Your Secret Weapon
The most powerful dialogue lives in the gap between what characters say and what they mean. This gap—subtext—is where emotional truth resides.
Surface dialogue: “I love you.” “I love you too.”
Dialogue with subtext: “You’re leaving.” She said it flatly, a statement. “Just for the conference. Four days.” “Right. The conference.” She turned back to the dishes, her movements precise, controlled. “Sarah—” “Have a great trip.”
In the second version, “Have a great trip” actually means “I know you’re lying and I’m done fighting about it.” The reader understands this through context, tone, and what’s deliberately left unsaid.
Gillian Flynn is the master of subtext. In Gone Girl, nearly every conversation between Nick and Amy operates on multiple levels, where pleasantries mask manipulation and sweet words carry threats. The reader must actively decode the real communication happening beneath the surface text.
Creating effective subtext:
Direct the traffic: Use dialogue tags, body language, and context to signal the true meaning beneath words
Let characters lie (to others and themselves): People rarely articulate their rawest feelings directly
Use interruption and avoidance: What characters won’t discuss often matters more than what they will
Trust your reader: You don’t need to explain the subtext; readers enjoy decoding it
Exercise: Write an argument where characters never directly state what they’re actually angry about, but the reader clearly understands the real issue through subtext.
4. Strip Out the Exposition (Even When It’s Tempting)
This is perhaps the most common dialogue mistake: using conversations as information dumps disguised as character interaction.
Exposition-heavy dialogue (bad):
“Remember when we moved to Seattle three years ago after your promotion to senior analyst at Morrison & Associates, and we bought that four-bedroom colonial on Maple Street for $650,000?” “Of course I remember! That was right before our daughter Emily started fifth grade at Lincoln Elementary.”
These characters aren’t talking to each other—they’re talking to the reader. No real person reminds someone else of information both parties obviously share.
The rule: If both characters already know the information, they won’t discuss it—at least not in expository detail.
Better approaches:
Show discovery in real-time: Instead of characters explaining the past, show them discovering new information in the present
Use conflict to justify the recap: Characters might weaponize shared history (“You promised when we moved here that things would be different”) which feels natural during arguments
Let one character genuinely not know: The newcomer, the outsider, the person who wasn’t there provides natural justification for explanation
Trust narrative exposition: Some information simply belongs in narrative summary, not dialogue
Fredrik Backman in Anxious People manages to convey extensive backstory through interrogation scenes where one character genuinely doesn’t know the information, making the exposition feel organic and necessary.
5. Create the Illusion of Reality, Not Reality Itself
Here’s the paradox: Good dialogue sounds real but isn’t real.
Actual transcribed conversation: “So, um, I was thinking, you know, about the, uh, the thing we talked about? Like, last week? Or maybe it was, no, yeah, it was last week, Tuesday I think, and you said— wait, what did you say exactly? I can’t remember if you said you’d think about it or if you said definitely yes, because those are, like, different things, you know?”
Effective fictional dialogue: “About what we discussed last Tuesday—have you decided?”
Actual human speech includes:
- Filler words (um, uh, like, you know)
- False starts and self-corrections
- Tangents and topic jumps
- Redundancies and repetition
- Incomplete sentences
- Pleasantries and small talk
Effective fictional dialogue includes:
- Strategic, sparse use of filler words for characterization
- Focused exchanges that stay on topic (mostly)
- Minimal pleasantries (we skip “hello” and “goodbye” unless meaningful)
- The feeling of authenticity without the mess of reality
The craft: You’re creating a highly edited version of conversation that feels realistic while being much tighter and more purposeful than actual speech.
When to break the “rules”:
Character differentiation: One character might use more filler words, establishing them as nervous or uncertain
Heightened emotion: Stressed characters might ramble, creating urgency
Discomfort: Awkward situations might warrant more realistic stammering
Dialect/voice: Specific speech patterns can require phonetic spelling or grammar variations, but use sparingly—a little goes a long way
Toni Morrison uses African American Vernacular English in Beloved with incredible precision—just enough to establish authentic voice without impeding comprehension. The dialogue feels lived-in and real while remaining highly crafted.
6. Character Voice Must Override Author Voice
Every character should sound distinct from every other character—and distinct from your narrative voice. This is harder than it sounds because your authorial voice naturally wants to seep into everyone’s dialogue.
The test: Cover up character names and dialogue tags. Can you still identify who’s speaking based purely on word choice, sentence structure, and perspective?
Tools for differentiation:
Vocabulary level: Education, age, and background affect word choice
- A professor says “utilize”; a teenager says “use”
- A lawyer says “pursuant to our agreement”; a mechanic says “like we talked about”
Sentence structure: Some characters speak in fragments; others use complex sentences
- “Can’t. Won’t. Not happening.” (clipped, resistant)
- “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, and under different circumstances I might consider it, but given where we are right now, I just don’t think it’s the right move.” (diplomatic, verbose)
Cultural/regional markers: References, idioms, and speech patterns
- Southern speaker: “I’m fixin’ to head out”
- British speaker: “I’ll pop round later”
- Gen Z speaker: “That’s giving main character energy”
Emotional baseline: Is this character generally optimistic? Suspicious? Sarcastic?
Speech quirks (used sparingly): Maybe one character asks questions instead of making statements; another deflects with humor
In The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, Starr’s dialogue shifts between her predominantly white prep school and her Black neighborhood, demonstrating how real people code-switch. Each voice is authentic to its context while remaining recognizably Starr.
Warning: Don’t rely on constant verbal tics or catchphrases. If your character says “you know what I mean?” at the end of every sentence, that’s not characterization—it’s annoyance.
7. Dialogue Tags: Use “Said” and Trust Yourself
Every few years, writing advice circulates advocating for the elimination of dialogue tags entirely, or alternatively, thesaurus-level creativity in tag variation. Both extremes create problems.
The truth about “said”:
It’s invisible. Readers’ eyes glide over “said” without conscious registration—it’s purely functional, establishing who’s speaking without drawing attention to itself.
Overused, distracting alternatives:
- “I can’t believe you did that,” she hissed. (You can’t hiss a sentence without sibilants)
- “Let’s go,” he smiled. (You can’t smile words; smiling is an action, not a speech verb)
- “Really?” she queried/questioned/interrogated/inquired.
Better approach:
Primary tags: said, asked (covers 90% of dialogue)
Occasional alternatives when justified: whispered, shouted, muttered, called—but only when the manner of speaking truly matters
Action beats instead of tags: “I can’t believe you did that.” She stepped back, putting the table between them. He pushed his chair back. “Let’s go.”
Eliminated tags when context is clear: In rapid back-and-forth between two characters, you often don’t need tags at all
The rhythm: Alternate between dialogue tags, action beats, and no attribution. This creates natural variation without forcing creativity in tag selection.
Celeste Ng in Little Fires Everywhere demonstrates perfect tag economy—mostly “said,” occasional action beats, strategic silence in rapid exchanges. The dialogue flows without calling attention to technical mechanics.
8. Embrace the Unexpected Turn
Predictable dialogue is death. If readers can anticipate each response before reading it, they’ll start skimming—or worse, abandon the book entirely.
Predictable exchange: “I love you.” “I love you too.”
Unexpected turn: “I love you.” “Don’t.”
That single word—”Don’t”—changes everything. It subverts expectation and demands the reader’s attention. What does it mean? Don’t love them? Don’t say it? Don’t make this harder?
Techniques for surprise:
Mismatched responses: Character B responds to something Character A didn’t actually say
Subject changes: Character deflects by pivoting conversation
Literal interpretation: One character takes metaphorical language literally (especially effective in humor)
Emotional incongruity: Responding to serious moments with humor or vice versa
Revelation bombs: A character shares information that recontextualizes everything
In Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney, characters constantly surprise each other (and readers) by saying the unexpected thing—the vulnerable admission when we expect defensiveness, the cold response when we expect warmth.
Example:
Predictable: “Did you cheat on me?” Sarah’s voice shook. “Yes. I’m sorry. It didn’t mean anything.”
Unexpected: “Did you cheat on me?” Sarah’s voice shook. “Do you actually want to know, or do you want to keep pretending?” He sounded tired. “Because we’ve been pretending for months, and honestly? I’m exhausted.”
The second version surprises because it refuses the expected emotional beats and instead reveals a deeper, more complex truth about their relationship.
The Five Deadly Dialogue Sins (And How to Absolve Them)
Sin #1: The Aimless Banter Problem
The crime: Characters chat cleverly about nothing, serving no plot or character purpose
Example: “Nice weather we’re having.” “If you like heat. Personally, I’m a winter person.” “Really? I can’t stand the cold. Give me a beach any day.” “Beaches are overrated. Too much sand.” “That’s what beaches are made of!” “Exactly my point.”
This might sound “realistic” (people do talk like this), but it’s narrative dead space. Unless this conversation reveals something crucial about character dynamics or builds to a point, it’s wasting the reader’s time.
The redemption:
Option 1: Cut it entirely. Just write: “They made small talk while waiting for the test results.” Summary serves you better.
Option 2: Layer in tension. Make the banter a deflection from what they’re really avoiding:
“Nice weather we’re having.” Mark stared at the ceiling. “If you like heat.” Sarah flipped through a magazine without reading. Neither of them mentioned the envelope on the table between them, still sealed. “I can’t stand winter.” “I know. You’ve said.” She set down the magazine. “Are we going to talk about it?” “About my weather preferences?” “Mark.” “What do you want me to say, Sarah? That I’m terrified? Would that help?”
Now the banter has purpose—it’s avoidance behavior revealing emotional state.
Sin #2: The “As You Know, Bob” Exposition Dump
The crime: Characters tell each other information they both already know for the reader’s benefit
Example: “As you know, Bob, we’ve been partners at this law firm for fifteen years, ever since we graduated from Harvard Law School together in 2009, and this merger with Morrison & Associates could make or break our careers.”
Bob definitely knows all of this. This is the writer wearing a fake mustache pretending to be Bob’s partner.
The redemption:
Show, don’t tell (via dialogue): Demonstrate the fifteen-year partnership through shorthand communication, shared references, and familiarity
Use conflict to justify backstory: “You said this merger wouldn’t affect our partnership. Remember? Fifteen years of building this together, and now you’re—”
Strategic amnesia: Create a legitimate reason one character might not know: amnesia, secrets, deliberate deception, new information
Trust your reader: Readers can infer context from narrative cues without explicit dialogue explanation
Sin #3: Everyone Sounds Like the Author
The crime: All characters use the same vocabulary, sentence structure, and perspective—which happens to match the narrative voice
The test: If you can’t identify speakers without tags, your characters lack distinct voices.
The redemption:
Age-appropriate language: Teenagers don’t sound like middle-aged lawyers
Education-based vocabulary: A PhD and a dropout choose different words
Emotional baseline: Optimists and cynics frame the same situation differently
Cultural/regional authenticity: Research actual speech patterns from your character’s background
Verbal rhythm variation: Some characters speak in choppy fragments; others use flowing sentences
Exercise: Write the same basic information delivered by five different characters. A teenager telling their parent they wrecked the car sounds completely different from how a lawyer would inform their spouse they lost a major case.
Sin #4: Punctuation Overkill
The crime: Excessive exclamation points, ellipses, em-dashes, and italicized emphasis
Example: “I can’t believe—are you serious?! This is—I mean… really?! You’re actually—wow. Just… wow!!!”
The redemption:
One punctuation per strong emotion. If the situation warrants an exclamation point, you get one, not seven.
Trust your words to convey emotion. “Are you serious” is a question that works without extras. If it needs emphasis, the words themselves should be chosen for impact.
Ellipses for genuine trailing off only. Use sparingly for interrupted thoughts, not as a default rhythm.
Em-dashes for actual interruption or mid-thought shift. Not decoration.
Italics for specific emphasis. One word per dialogue exchange maximum, and only when the emphasis changes meaning (“I didn’t say she stole the money” vs. “I didn’t say she stole the money”).
Compare dialogue in commercially successful novels—you’ll notice restraint. The emotion comes from context and word choice, not punctuation gymnastics.
Sin #5: Dialect Overload
The crime: Phonetically spelling every word in an accent until dialogue becomes unreadable
Example: “Well, I’ll be hornswaggled! Y’all ain’t gonna b’lieve what I seen down yonder by th’ crick this mornin’. Why, I was jus’ amoseyin’ along, mindin’ m’own beeswax when—”
The redemption:
Tell us the accent exists: “He spoke with a thick Scottish accent” or “Her Southern drawl made every word three syllables.”
Use syntax and word choice over spelling: Syntax (sentence structure) and regional vocabulary convey accent more effectively than eye-dialect.
Sprinkle, don’t saturate: One or two phonetic spellings per dialogue block suggest accent without impeding reading.
Trust your reader’s imagination: Once you establish the accent, readers will hear it without constant reinforcement.
Kathryn Stockett in The Help demonstrates this balance—distinct voices for each character without overwhelming phonetic spelling. The dialect feels authentic without becoming a puzzle to decode.
Dialogue Across Genres: What Readers Expect
Different genres have different dialogue conventions. Understanding these helps you meet reader expectations while finding room for innovation.
Literary Fiction
Characteristics: Subtext-heavy, possibly fragmented, emphasis on voice and authenticity over clarity
Example authors: Sally Rowell, Ocean Vuong, Hanya Yanagihara
Reader expectation: Dialogue reveals complex internal states; may be elliptical or incomplete
Commercial Fiction/Thrillers
Characteristics: Tighter, plot-focused, accelerating tension, minimal tangents
Example authors: Gillian Flynn, Lee Child, Tana French
Reader expectation: Dialogue moves plot forward; reveals information strategically; builds suspense
Romance
Characteristics: Emotional intimacy, banter with sexual tension, vulnerability progression
Example authors: Emily Henry, Casey McQuiston, Christina Lauren
Reader expectation: Dialogue charts relationship evolution; balances humor with heart; creates chemistry
Fantasy/Sci-Fi
Characteristics: World-building integration, potential formal registers, exposition challenges
Example authors: N.K. Jemisin, Becky Chambers, Brandon Sanderson
Reader expectation: Dialogue feels natural to the world; avoids info-dumping; maintains accessibility
Young Adult
Characteristics: Emotionally immediate, age-appropriate without condescending, current vernacular
Example authors: Angie Thomas, Adam Silvera, Becky Albertalli
Reader expectation: Authentic teen voice; addresses identity/belonging; emotionally raw
Mystery
Characteristics: Information control, interrogation scenes, misleading statements
Example authors: Tana French, Ruth Ware, Anthony Horowitz
Reader expectation: Dialogue plants clues; creates misdirection; reveals truth strategically
Advanced Dialogue Techniques for Experienced Writers
Once you’ve mastered the basics, these advanced techniques add sophistication:
The Echo Technique
Repeating key phrases across conversations creates thematic resonance and shows character evolution.
Early conversation: “You always have a plan, don’t you?” “Plans keep us alive.”
Later conversation: “What’s the plan?” “I don’t have one.” “You always have a plan.” “Not this time.”
The echo demonstrates change—what was once reliable is now uncertain.
Conversational Misdirection
Use dialogue to mislead readers about character motivation or plot direction, then reveal the truth later for maximum impact. Gone Girl operates on this principle throughout.
The Interrupted Revelation
Build toward a crucial revelation, then interrupt before completion:
“There’s something I need to tell you. About that night—” “Later. We have bigger problems right now.”
The interruption creates sustained tension while postponing resolution.
Simultaneous Conversations
Multiple conversations happening simultaneously (at a party, family dinner, etc.) create layered complexity. Celeste Ng uses this beautifully in Little Fires Everywhere.
The Silence Weapon
Sometimes what characters don’t say speaks loudest. Strategic silence—a question left unanswered, a confession met with quiet—can be more powerful than words.
Practical Dialogue Revision Checklist
Use this checklist when revising any dialogue scene:
Purpose & Function
- [ ] Does every exchange advance plot, reveal character, or create conflict?
- [ ] Could I cut this conversation without losing something essential?
- [ ] Is there escalation from beginning to end?
Character Voice
- [ ] Can I identify speakers without tags based on voice alone?
- [ ] Does each character want something specific?
- [ ] Are competing agendas clear?
Authenticity
- [ ] Does it sound real without being transcribed reality?
- [ ] Have I cut pleasantries and filler that don’t serve a purpose?
- [ ] Is dialect/accent suggested rather than overwhelming?
Exposition
- [ ] Are characters telling each other things they’d already know?
- [ ] Is there a better way to convey this information?
- [ ] Does exposition emerge through conflict rather than explanation?
Technical Execution
- [ ] Am I primarily using “said” and “asked”?
- [ ] Are action beats meaningful rather than just pacing devices?
- [ ] Have I avoided punctuation overkill?
Subtext & Surprise
- [ ] Is there a gap between what’s said and what’s meant?
- [ ] Does anything unexpected happen?
- [ ] Are responses predictable or surprising?
Five Dialogue Exercises to Level Up Your Skills
Exercise 1: The Iceberg Dialogue
Write a conversation where characters discuss surface-level topic (dinner plans, weekend activities) while the subtext is about something entirely different (infidelity, job loss, terminal diagnosis). The reader should understand the real conversation without it being stated.
Exercise 2: The Single-Word Challenge
Write an argument where neither character uses more than ten words per response. This forces economy and subtext.
Exercise 3: The Voice Differentiation Test
Write five characters all saying “I need to talk to you about something important” in ways that reveal their distinct personalities through word choice, structure, and framing.
Exercise 4: The Exposition Transformation
Take a dialogue scene from your manuscript that includes exposition. Rewrite it three ways:
- Remove all exposition—pure conflict
- Have characters discover the information rather than explain it
- Move exposition to narrative summary
Compare which works best.
Exercise 5: The Competing Agendas Map
Choose a dialogue scene. Create a chart with three columns: Character A wants, Character B wants, What actually happens. If the wants aren’t different and creating tension, revise.
FAQ: Your Dialogue Questions Answered
Q: How much dialogue should a chapter have?
A: There’s no universal ratio, but balance matters. If you have 20 consecutive pages of pure dialogue with minimal narrative context, or conversely, 20 pages with no dialogue at all, you’ve likely gone too far in one direction. Vary your scenes—some dialogue-heavy, some action-focused, some introspective.
Q: Should dialect be written phonetically?
A: Sparingly. Establish the accent through narration (“her Scottish accent thickened”), use syntax and vocabulary choices, and include occasional phonetic spellings for flavor. Full phonetic dialect impedes reading and can come across as condescending.
Q: Is it okay to start chapters with dialogue?
A: Absolutely. Starting mid-conversation can create immediate engagement and momentum, especially after chapter breaks. Just ensure readers can quickly orient themselves to who’s speaking and what’s happening.
Q: How do I write arguments without making characters sound petty?
A: Give both sides legitimate perspectives. Even if one character is “wrong,” they should have reasons for their position. Arguments feel petty when one character is a strawman or when conflicts are manufactured rather than emerging organically from character values.
Q: Can dialogue contain long speeches or monologues?
A: Yes, but use sparingly. Break up longer speeches with reactions from other characters, internal thought from the speaker, or action beats. Extended uninterrupted monologues work in specific contexts (toasts, presentations, courtroom scenes) but feel unnatural in regular conversation.
Q: How do I write dialogue for historical fiction without sounding anachronistic or overly formal?
A: Research period-appropriate vocabulary and syntax, but prioritize readability. Suggest historical voice through selective word choice and formal address rather than archaic language throughout. Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall feels authentically historical while remaining accessible.
Q: Should every conversation end with clear resolution?
A: No. Unresolved conversations, interrupted exchanges, and arguments without solutions often feel more realistic and create sustained tension. Not every conflict needs immediate closure.
The Bottom Line: Dialogue Is Character in Action
Here’s what separates dialogue that sings from dialogue that falls flat: Great dialogue shows us who characters truly are through what they choose to say, what they choose to hide, and how they navigate the complicated space between honesty and self-protection.
Your characters reveal themselves most clearly not through narrative description of their traits, but through the dynamic push-and-pull of conversation where they pursue objectives, defend positions, test boundaries, and negotiate relationships.
Master dialogue, and you gain access to the most powerful tool in fiction writing—the ability to let characters speak for themselves in voices so distinct, so authentic, and so purposeful that readers forget they’re reading crafted prose. They’re simply listening to real people saying exactly what they would say in exactly that moment.
Which is, of course, the beautiful lie at the heart of great dialogue. These people aren’t real. What they’re saying isn’t random. Every word is chosen, every response calibrated, every exchange engineered to serve your story while feeling utterly spontaneous.
That’s the craft. That’s the magic.
Now go write conversations worth reading.
Start Improving Your Dialogue Today
Pick one dialogue scene from your current manuscript. Run it through the revision checklist above. Identify the three biggest weaknesses, then rewrite addressing those specific issues.
