Dialogue is one of those slippery beasts in fiction. Get it right and your characters breathe — they walk into a room, speak, and suddenly they exist. Get it wrong and your pages become either:
- A rambling transcript of small talk…
or - A stiff lecture where everyone talks like a philosopher-robot who swallowed a thesaurus.
The truth is this: real people are often boring to listen to. They hesitate. They repeat themselves. They fill silences with “um,” “like,” and awkward giggles. But if you copy real speech exactly, your reader will feel like they’re trapped on the bus behind two strangers discussing toenail fungus. Too real is too much.
So you and I — we walk a tightrope. We want dialogue that feels real, but is secretly sharpened, shaped, edited, and intentional. The reader should feel like they’re eavesdropping… not like they’ve been handed a court transcript.
Let’s talk about how to do it.
🎭 Why Dialogue Matters More Than Writers Admit
Dialogue is character.
Dialogue is relationship.
Dialogue is subtext, conflict, emotion, backstory, and momentum wrapped into lines with quotation marks.
Readers don’t remember your exposition paragraph about how Gary is insecure. They remember the moment Gary says:
“No, it’s fine. I didn’t really want to go anyway.”
and everyone else at the table quietly knows he’s lying.
Dialogue bypasses explanation. It reveals.
Which means your job isn’t to write what people say — it’s to write what they mean while saying something else.
That’s why “realistic” dialogue often falls flat. Real people talk without intention. Characters don’t get that luxury. Every line should either:
✔ Build character
✔ Create or escalate tension
✔ Convey information naturally
✔ Move the story forward
If it doesn’t?
Cut it.
🗣 Real Talk vs. Book Talk — Where Writers Go Wrong
Let’s take an example. Here’s realistic small-talk dialogue:
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“How are you?”
“Good, you?”
“Yeah, good.”
“Busy lately?”
“Yeah.”
“Same.”
You’ve read text threads like this. You’ve probably lived them. But do you want to read a novel full of them? Absolutely not. You’d use the book as a coaster.
Now here’s purposeful dialogue that still feels real:
“You’re late.”
“Traffic.”
“You don’t have a car.”
“…Yeah. Traffic was terrible.”
We learn:
- There’s tension.
- One character lies.
- The other one knows.
- The story moves forward.
Same word count. More meaning. No fluff.
So the rule isn’t “make it realistic.”
The rule is:
Make it believable — not literal.
💬 Give Each Character a Voice — Not Just Lines
If every character talks like you, the reader will notice. Voices should differ in:
- Vocabulary
- Rhythm
- Sentence length
- Emotional tone
- What they refuse to say
A nervous character won’t speak the same way as a CEO. A teenager won’t sound like a retired detective. A blunt character won’t waffle around their thoughts — they’ll drop them like bricks.
For instance:
BLUNT CHARACTER
“You’re wrong.”
POLITE CHARACTER
“I’m not sure that’s quite right, actually…”
SARCASTIC CHARACTER
“Wow. Amazing. You really thought that through, didn’t you?”
Same meaning. Different people.
The trick is to hear them.
Literally — read your dialogue aloud. If everyone sounds like the same person wearing different hats, rewrite until the rhythm changes.
🔥 Subtext: The Secret Spice of Great Dialogue
Subtext is the unsaid message beneath the words.
Nobody says:
“I am deeply insecure and crave validation.”
They say:
“So… did anyone even notice my presentation?”
And they laugh afterward, like it didn’t matter.
Or your character doesn’t say:
“I’m jealous of your success.”
They say:
“Must be nice, having all that free time to write.”
Ouch.
Subtext happens when characters hide their truth — because they’re scared, proud, lonely, manipulative, unsure, hopeful, hurt, or desperately in love.
Ask yourself with every exchange:
What are they really saying?
If the answer is “exactly what the sentence says”…
there may be room for layering.
✂ Cut the Filler — Keep the Spark
Here’s a powerful editing exercise:
Write the full realistic conversation.
Then remove everything the reader doesn’t need.
That means:
❌ greetings
❌ pleasantries
❌ filler words
❌ repeated info
❌ obvious statements
Until only the meaningful spine remains.
Example:
First draft
“Hi, Sarah.”
“Oh, hey Mark. How’ve you been?”
“Not bad. You?”
“Good, thanks. Busy. Kids, you know…”
“Yeah.”
“So anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask — did you speak to the police yet?”
Edited
“Sarah — did you speak to the police yet?”
The intention was always the last sentence.
Everything before it was throat-clearing.
Trust your reader to fill in the social niceties. They will.
🎬 Use Action and Beats To Break Up Speech
Real conversations don’t happen in a vacuum. People move. React. Avoid eye contact. Rub the back of their neck. Play with coffee cups. Step backward when something hurts.
Action beats add life and texture:
“You’re leaving?” She kept folding the same T-shirt, over and over.
“Just for a while.”
We don’t need her to say I’m trying to stay busy so I don’t fall apart.
We can see it.
Beats also help you avoid endless lines of stacked dialogue — what I like to call “floating-head theatre.” Let characters live inside their words.
⏳ Silence Is Dialogue Too
Silence can scream louder than any monologue.
Imagine:
“Do you still love me?”
He looked at the floor.
That pause carries weight. It tells a story. Silence creates tension, space for interpretation, and emotional realism.
You don’t need characters explaining their hearts when silence already spilled them.
🎯 Keep Dialogue Focused on Desire
Characters talk because they want something.
Respect
Information
Love
Revenge
Escape
Understanding
Control
Forgiveness
If you’re stuck in a dull exchange, ask:
What does each person want right now?
If they don’t want anything — that’s why the scene is flat.
Give them goals. Even small ones.
- She wants him to admit the truth.
- He wants to avoid the subject.
- She wants reassurance.
- He wants to make her laugh to distract her.
Conflict sharpens words.
🧠 Realism Comes From Imperfection — Used Sparingly
You can sprinkle in real speech patterns — but with intention.
A well-placed interruption:
“I just thought maybe—”
“Don’t.”
A natural overlap:
“If you’d just listen—”
“I am listening!”
A hesitation:
“I… didn’t know who else to call.”
A filler word that reveals insecurity:
“I mean, yeah, I guess.”
These tiny flaws feel human — when used like seasoning, not main ingredients.
📚 Avoid “Writerly Dialogue Disease”
This happens when every character:
- Speaks in full sentences
- Uses perfect grammar
- Has witty comebacks
- Sounds oddly poetic
Great — if your character is a playwright.
Not great — if your character is a sleep-deprived barista at 7:02am.
Let people stumble sometimes. Let them be honest. Let them reveal themselves unintentionally.
The most memorable line isn’t always the smartest. Sometimes it’s the truest.
🔍 Editing Checklist: Does Your Dialogue Work?
When revising, ask:
- Does each line serve a purpose?
- Does every character sound distinct?
- Is there subtext beneath the words?
- Is anything being explained that could be implied?
- Does body language support or contradict speech?
- Have I cut filler without losing rhythm?
- Does the conversation show what characters want?
If you can tick those boxes, you’re walking the tightrope beautifully.
❤️ The Heart of It All
Dialogue is about connection — between characters, and between your reader and the world you’ve created. It isn’t about copying real life. It’s about distilling it. Honouring it. Capturing the emotional truth even when the words are fiction.
You don’t need to be clever.
You don’t need every line to sparkle.
You just need it to feel honest.
And when you hit that balance — the tightrope disappears, and your story breathes on its own.
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