Dialogue

In tonight's Prose Workshop we studied dialogue, something that normally I SUCK at. Actually, that's not strictly true, which has been kind of the point of the last couple of classes. We're all learning our strengths and weaknesses as writers; what to focus on and what to ignore. Me; I tend to write to much internalisation. And when I do, I get away with not writing much dialogue, so I never know whether I'm any good at it and, more to the point, never practice it.
So, if I cut out the internalisation, I'm going to need more dialogue. And, although I'm not very good at it, what I'm learning is that I can get better at it. It just takes practice. Writing, like anything, takes practice. I can already do it fairly well, but I can get so much better. And, I think I'm getting there.

Anyway, I wont subject you to the first excercise of tonight, because I really struggled at hinting at subtext through dialogue. But the second exerciseI really, really enjoyed. In it we had to focus on the main character of something that we are working on at the moment (in this case, my story about a miserable Parisien flower seller) and have them express a strong desire to a secondary character. However, the secondary character fails to help them fulfill their need, as they are too obsessed about something else. In this way, we can create a scene where the needs of the protagonist are shown indirectly rather than told directly, which makes for much better writing.

(insert bad French and Australian accents if desired)

"So, you can help me, Monsieur?"
"Sure man, whatever." The young student flicks open his lighter, then closes it again. "There won't be a trace of the place left, and I'll be in Amsterdam..."
"Do it now! There's no one here!"
"... have you ever been to Amsterdam?"
"No, but..."
"Honestly, the girls... better than here. Okay, Paris is a more beautiful city, I'll give you that. But the girls in..."
"I don't care about girls! I just want..."
"...and I'm not talking about the ones you pay for, either. If anything, they're the ugly ones."
"But..."
"Man, you should come with me! Ah, but wait... you gotta run this place, right?"
"NO! That's what I'm talking about! If you just..."
"I'd hate to be tied down to a job, man. Love the flowers, don't get me wrong. But I can see flowers anywhere. Hey, you don't have any tulips here? In Amsterdam they have... well, I'm sure you know that, right? Not that I'm going there for the flowers though. You know what I mean..."
"SHUT UP!" the flower seller screams, and grabs the man's lighter. "I'll do it myself!" The man takes his lighter back instantly.
"Sorry, can't have that. This baby's been all around the world with me..."