Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors (14 page)

BOOK: Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors
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Without an inner reason for existence, lines in a play will be simply words, recited by rote, lacking believable emotion. When an actor looks beneath the lines to fully understand a character’s desires and fears—the subtext of what is spoken—the words spring to life. As an actor interprets the subtext through such means as gestures and facial expression, the lines become layered with meaning, often far deeper than what is actually spoken. They express a character’s strengths, weaknesses, passions. They bare a human soul.

 

 

NOVELIST’S ADAPTATION:

 

In realistic dialogue, characters will not always say what they mean. Communication often goes far deeper than words, flowing from the underlying meaning, or subtext. The key is to know when subtexted dialogue is appropriate, and how to convey the underlying meaning to readers.

 

Plays could not exist without Subtexting. Most plays are the record of a particular truth trying to break through human action, and if every character merely spoke what was on his mind, dramatic tension couldn’t be sustained for more than ten minutes. The truth of the play breaks forth a little here, a little there, until at the climax, at least in naturalistic theater, we see the moment of most intense honesty.

Subtexting is just as important in novels.

How many times have you read a novel with dialogue that struck you as shallow or unbelievable? Most of the time, this results from characters always saying exactly what they mean. I call this WYSIWYG dialogue—What You See Is What You Get. You may hear some novelists or screenwriters speak of “on the nose” dialogue. They’re talking about the same thing. WYSIWYG dialogue is often faulty in conversation, because continuous use of it does not reflect real life. As the Novelist’s Adaptation notes, people often communicate through Subtexting, a meaning that has little to do with what’s actually spoken.

 

 

An Introduction To Subtexting

 

Subtexting goes hand in hand with Secret #2, Action Objectives.

 

When a character approaches a conversation
with an Action Objective he does not want to reveal,
a subtexted conversation is born.

 

Understanding the use of Subtexting in dialogue is particularly difficult for inexperienced writers. Often a new novelist’s tendency is to use WYSIWYG conversation because he has not yet grasped how to convey meaning without actually saying it. Since novels call for at least some dialogue in the majority of scenes, a lack of Subtexting presents a major problem for a story. When a novelist learns how to employ Subtexting effectively, dialogue that had once been lifeless and on-the-surface is transformed into vibrant interchanges between characters that move the story forward.

We all know that every piece of fiction, whether play or novel, short story or saga, is at heart a reflection of life’s most basic struggles—love, fear, pain, defeat, etc. Therefore, in order to write dialogue that is vibrant and realistic, that portrays these struggles convincingly, we first need to understand Subtexting as it occurs in the real world. Here are three important points:

 

1.
Subtexting is not limited to times when one is tongue-tied or tense. It’s a common, everyday occurrence.

 

2.      
Subtexting is not limited to conversations between people who have just met. It occurs in all relationships and is equally common between friends and enemies, strangers and spouses.

 

3.      
Sometimes entire conversations are subtexted; other times only portions are.

 

Imagine two friends, Liz and Sara, working together on a volunteer project at church. Liz becomes irritated at something Sara does and snaps at her but soon apologizes. Sara is hurt and doesn’t readily accept the apology. They say little while they continue to work. Tension hangs in the air. After their project is done, Liz suggests, “Want to go out for coffee? I’m buying.” However, going out for coffee is a side issue. What she’s really saying is: “Please, will you forgive me now? I’m truly sorry for what I said, and I want to prove it by treating you to coffee.” (Action Objective: “To prove I am sorry.”) Sara will instinctively respond within the same subtext. If she says, “Okay, let’s go” or even “I can’t right now, but I’d love to later,” what she would mean is: “I’m now ready to forgive you.” (Action Objective: “To convey I accept the apology.”) However, a chilled “I don’t have time for that” would be a clear message that she still refuses to forgive.

What’s fascinating here is that both women engage in this surface dialogue while knowing that the other isn’t fooled one bit as to its underlying meaning. Their
conversation
is about coffee. But their
communication
is about forgiveness.

 

 

A Deeper Look At Subtexting

 

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah.”

Five words spoken between man and wife. Sound mundane, boring? They are, in the form of WYSIWYG dialogue. But put your creativity to work. Imagine the underlying messages these simple words could convey. Notice how your thoughts immediately shift from the words themselves to character motivation. Who are these people? What do they want? What kind of marriage do they have? What current conflicts do they face? Now you are thinking in a way that fleshes out your characters.

Just to show how effective Subtexting can be, let’s create a scene with maximum dichotomy between the dialogue and its subtext. Using only these five innocuous words, we’ll depict a deeply flawed, abusive marriage. The
conversation
will be morning greetings. The
communication
will be about power and the need for love.

But wait a minute. If this subtext isn’t in the dialogue itself, where will it be? How will we convey the real communication to the reader?

 

In Subtexting the real communication
is artfully woven through description
into the context of the conversation.

 

The amount of description necessary will depend on how well readers know the characters. If the scene is in the middle of a novel and involves an ongoing conflict, the general context will already be in place, and less description is necessary. But let’s raise the stakes in our example, making it the opening scene in a novel. Since readers will not know our characters at all, we’ll need to skillfully weave adequate description into the scene—without stopping the action—in order to communicate the subtext.

 

At last, silence. Not even a creak from the padded rocking chair. She was too exhausted to push.
Early morning light filtered through checkered curtains, patterning the floor at Missy Danton’s feet. Her newborn nursed in her arms, sighing in contentment with each swallow. For hours, Missy had despaired of this moment ever arriving. The baby had squalled all night, filling her with fear at the thought of waking her husband.
Missy smoothed a fingertip over the baby’s perfect cheek. How could Franklin still treat her so badly after she’d given him such a beautiful son? She’d been so sure a baby would change things. But the pain in her left shoulder where he’d punched her twice yesterday, baby in her arms, screamed the bitter truth.
The nursery door pushed open. Missy raised dull eyes to watch Franklin’s head appear, hair matted from sleep. What she would give for the slightest bit of compassion.
“Morning.” Her voice was little more than a croak.
He slouched in the doorway, dismissive eyes flicking over her face, the baby. Languidly then, he stretched, yawning with exaggeration. “Morning.”
Resentment rose like acid within Missy. She pressed her lips together, fingers tensing under the baby’s blanket. “Sleep well?” Biting with sarcasm, the words slipped from her lips of their own accord. The moment they were out, she wanted them back.
Franklin drew to his full height, eyes narrowing. His head tilted, and Missy could see the telltale vein on his neck begin to throb. She braced herself, drawing her baby closer. Franklin’s mouth opened in a smirk, his chin jutting. “Yeah,” he said, goading, daring her to continue in such foolishness.
Nauseating fear blanketed Missy’s anger. She now had more than herself to protect. Missy lowered her eyes.
 

Any doubt this woman’s in real trouble? Afraid, seething with repressed anger, yearning for a gentle touch, caught in the web of victimization. And the baby. Notice how the son she’d “given” Franklin becomes “her baby” in the moment of danger. How long until this child is himself abused? We can be sure that Franklin does not intend to change his ways.

Yet none of this is spoken.

Let’s take a look at the dialogue again, this time with its subtext:

 

“Morning.”
Look at me just once with compassion, Franklin. I’ve been up all night with the son I’ve given you, and I’m exhausted.
 
“Morning”
Yeah, what do I care? That’s your place, watching the kid while I get my eight hours.
 
“Sleep well?”      
I’m sick of the way you treat me! You make me furious! How can you be so selfish, sleeping all night while I was having so much trouble!
 
“Yeah.”
You keep it up, Missy, you’ll be sorry. A baby in your arms ain’t gonna keep me from hitting you.
 

The scene does contain one ore line—an unspoken one. But the subtext is clear:

 

Missy lowered her eyes
. I didn’t mean it, Franklin, please don’t hit me. I’m afraid for my baby.

 

 

When To Subtext

 

How can you know when to subtext a scene? Not all dialogue should be subtexted. Sometimes WYSIWYG exchanges are entirely appropriate. As with so many aspects of writing fiction, there are no cut-and-dried rules. But there are three guidelines that, when considered together, can point you in the right direction.

The key, as we’ve noted, is to write dialogue that’s realistic. Therefore, the first step in learning when to subtext a scene is to observe when Subtexting occurs in real life. Once you start listening for Subtexting in conversations, including your own, you’ll be amazed at how common it is. And the more familiar you become with this quirk of human nature, the better you’ll be at re-creating it. When you notice Subtexting within a conversation, ask yourself these questions:

 

1.
Why didn’t the first person say exactly what she was thinking?

 

2.
Why didn’t the second person?

 

3.
How was I able to understand the underlying meaning?

 

4.
If I were to write this scene, how would I convey its subtext?

 

The first two questions will teach you when to subtext in your writing. These questions will have one of two answers. Either the person didn’t
want
to state what she was thinking, or the person didn’t
need
to state what she was thinking, because the other person already knew it.

In our scene, Missy is an example of the first reason. She didn’t want to say what she was thinking because she was afraid of her husband. Franklin, on the other hand, didn’t need to say what he was thinking because he’d already spent months putting Missy “in her place.” He could display his power all he wanted, whether through exaggerated yawn or foreboding stance, knowing she’d meekly accept it because of her fear.

 

Guideline 1
One of these two reasons—not wanting or not needing
to state what he’s thinking—must apply to
a character’s motivation in order for Subtexting
to be considered in your dialogue.

 

With this first guideline in mind, ask yourself these questions regarding your scene:

 

1.
What is Character A’s Action Objective as she approaches this conversation? Character B’s?

 

2.
Is A willing to state what’s on her mind? Is B?

 

3.
Do A and B understand the current situation well enough that they don’t need to state the obvious?

 

4.
Is this scene a continued presentation of an ongoing conflict, or is it a major turning point for change?

BOOK: Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors
12.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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