Dressing Your Hero

Last Thursday I had the privilege of helping to launch Wimbledon Book Festival’s Young Writer’s Competition for 2015. It was World Book Day, the day when many children are encouraged to come as their favourite character in a book (or movie!) When I arrived at Wimbledon Chase Primary School, I was delighted to see two teachers got up as Batman and Superman welcoming children and parents to the school. 

The children were buzzing with excitement. This year David Walliams dominated with his Demon Dentist, Gansta Granny and Boy in a Dress. Harry Potter characters are now a staple. There were several Cats in Hats and even a couple of Sherlock Holmes. 

I was assisted by literacy coordinator Linda Darlington who came as Scout from To Kill A Mockingbird. We posed with children dressed as Pippi Long-stocking and Darth Vadar. As I looked out over a sea of faces, masks, hats and fake glasses, it suddenly occurred to me that many of the best characters from children’s fiction have looks that lend themselves to World Book Day dress up. 

Here are three elements I think the best dress-up-able characters have:

1. An identifiable silhouette. In an interview with Kidzcoolit, one of the directors of Shaun the Sheep the Movie says, “You can recognise most famous characters from their silhouettes. Shaun’s definitely got that.” Think of The Cat in the Hat, Peter Pan, Paddington Bear and Little Red Riding Hood. And look at Pippi with her sticky-out plaits.

2. A fun accessory or talisman. A soft toy animal is always fun, like Pippi Longstocking's monkey (see above). Kids also love swords, wands and replica revolvers, if the school allows such things! Katniss has her bow and arrows; Dorothy Gale her basket.

3. An outfit that's easy and warm. Easy for the parents to assemble and warm for the comfort of the children. World Book Day is usually early March which can be chilly in the UK. 

Some of my fellow History Girls have come up with great characters who boast distinctive silhouettes, fun accessories and warm costumes.

Girl Highwaymen at one of Marie-Louise Jensen's events

Sophia from Marie Louise-Jensen’s The Girl in the Mask is a girl highwayman. You can easily make a mask and tricorn hat. Black cloaks and flintlock pistols can be bought early, around Halloween. This costume would be especially appealing to a tomboy. Here are some year 7 girls from Walton Girls’ High School dressed up for an author visit. 

Louisa Young’s Lionboy, Charlie Ashanti, could have a soft-toy lion as his accessory and dress in circus gear. He's already made it big on stage and the film rights have been optioned.  

Girl pirate at one of Celia Rees' events

Susan Price’s Sterkarms wear doublets (short padded jackets), long woollen stockings and leather thigh-boots. Their accessories are daggers, lances and shaggy hobs (strong ponies).

Celia Rees has created highway women, witches and pirates. It's almost as if she wrote her novels with World Book Day in mind! These archetypal characters are distinctive, dashing, easy to put together and warm... unless you go for bare midriff. 

Joan Lennon has created a Viking: a small one named Leif Frond. He wears tunic, trousers, furry waistcoat, cloak, boots and a horned helmet. You can accessorise your Viking with bow and (safe) arrows.
 

Flavia Gemina and Lupus

Kids love dressing up as villains. I spotted Darth Vadars, Demon Dentists and Cruella de Villes! Michelle Lovric’s new book The Fate in the Box features a villain called Fogfinger who wears a turban with a ruby in the middle. Simple and brilliant! 

The four detectives in my Roman Mysteries are always popular. Each of the four is colour-coded as one of the four elements. Flavia, the leader, wears a sky-blue tunic and palla. Lupus the mute boy wears a sea-green tunic and has a Roman wax tablet as his accessory. Nubia is fire, so her clothes are yellow, orange or red. Her accessory is a flute. Jonathan, the Jewish boy, is steady and grounded with a nutmeg-coloured tunic and a herb pouch around his neck against asthma. He sometimes carries a sling. His element is earth. 

Threptus and Sherlock

The picture on the right shows a girl fan dressed up as Threptus, the beggar boy in my spin-off series The Roman Mystery Scrolls. She is posing with her brother who is dressed as Sherlock Holmes, a superb example of a character with a distinctive silhouette. His accessories were no doubt bought at the Museum of London's Sherlock Holmes' exhibition, soon about to end.

Another of my characters is P.K. Pinkerton a half-Sioux 12-year-old detective in the Wild West who wears fringed buckskin trowsers (sic), a "faded red (not pink)" flannel shirt, a blue woollen coat, moccasins and a black slouch hat with a hawk’s feather. P.K.'s accessories are a medicine pouch and a five-shooter revolver, a gift from Mark Twain. P.K. can be a boy or a girl as s/he is a master of disguise.

Desperados and detectives at a Caroline Lawrence event

World Book Day has sharpened my focus; for my next series I'm going to create characters that kids will want to dress up as. I'll give give each one a distinctive silhouette, at least one fun accessory... and nice warm garments. Just as well: it will be set in Roman Britain!

To paint, click or write... by Caroline Lawrence

Bertie (right) on his way to Cairo

Early in 1862, Queen Victoria’s eldest son, the Prince of Wales, went on a royal tour of the Middle East.  Known to his friends as Bertie, the future King Edward VII was sociable, charming and diplomatic. He loved hunting and eating, and already at the age of twenty had a reputation as a playboy. Bertie and his entourage took the train to Cairo and from there went up the Nile and back down, over to the Holy Land, then onto Syria, Lebanon, Turkey and Greece before returning home by royal steamer. It was one of the first times a trip to such exotic regions had been so thoroughly documented by photography, in those early days a laborious, expensive and time-consuming process. 

Bertie (centre with fez) and entourage in Capernaum

Cameras were large and heavy, the photographs themselves were on A4 sized sheets of glass. Imagine trying to developed these in makeshift darkrooms containing dangerous chemicals in blistering heat, dust and wind. Imagine transporting a couple of hundred sheet of glass several thousand miles on horseback or by sea. Subjects had to remain still for 12 seconds, but if they did their faces came out beautifully sharp and detailed. 

Upon their return from the royal tour, the photographer Francis Bedford displayed his work and even offered the collection for sale to the public. Cairo to Constantinople is a new exhibition at the Queen's Gallery in London showcasing about half these photographs, along with half a dozen paintings done during the tour, a few cases of artefacts bought along the way and – for the first time – the diary kept by the prince. It is a fascinating exhibition and no historian or writer of historical fiction should miss it. 

I was particularly interested in this exhibition because it documents part of what was happening in the year 1862, the year my first two P.K. Pinkerton books are set. In the Eastern states of America, the U.S. Civil War was claiming thousands of lives in some of the bloodiest fighting ever seen. Out West, Americans were virtually untouched by the war. 1862 was the year a failed prospector named Sam Clemens walked into a Nevada mining town and decided to return to his first love, writing for newspapers. He soon became known by the pen name Mark Twain. 

Meanwhile, Bertie was shooting quail on the banks of the Nile and enjoying multi-course banquets with sultans and pashas while Francis Bedford was taking landmark photographs. The Royal Tour of 1862 galvanised the western world and soon the rich of Europe were flocking to the exotic Middle East in the footsteps of the young Prince of Wales. 

USS Quaker City in which Twain sailed in 1867

Five years after the prince’s four month sojourn, the American Civil War was over and rich Americans had also started travelling to Europe in unprecedented numbers. In 1867, Mark Twain finagled a place on a steamer full of wealthy and pious protestants called the Quaker City. The cost of a place on the five month voyage to Italy, Greece, Turkey and the Holy Land was an eye-watering $1250 per traveller. Normally, Twain could never have dreamt of paying this amount but he went as a guest of three newspapers on condition that he send back regular reports.  

Mount Lycabettus, Athens 1862 by Francis Bedford

Aged 32, Twain was relatively young and fairly wild. For example, when the passengers of the Quaker City found Athens closed to them on account of a cholera outbreak, Twain convinced some of the more daring souls to sneak ashore and make their way from Piraeus to the Parthenon... by night and on foot! 

The book that resulted from Twain's letters home became The Innocents Abroad, one of the best selling travel books in the history of the world. Writing as a ‘the celebrated California humorist’ Twain had to be wittily critical of his fellow passengers and especially of ‘foreigners’, but in his accounts of the Holy Land he sometimes forgot humour to comment on the terrible poverty of the people and harsh conditions of animals. Everywhere there is dirt, everywhere there are fleas, everywhere there are lean broken hearted dogs. Every alley is thronged with people... (Innocents Abroad chapter 38)

detail of Water Carriers by Bedford

Like Bertie, Twain and his party often travelled on horseback when moving from town to town. In the Holy Land, Twain tells how hoards of men, women and children would pour out of villages, stretching up their hands and begging for food or ‘bucksheesh’. At a fountain in Syria he bemoaned the wretched nest of human vermin about the fountain—rags, dirt, sunken cheeks, pallor of sickness, sores, projecting bones, dull, aching misery in their eyes and ravenous hunger speaking from every eloquent fibre and muscle from head to foot. (Innocents Abroad chapter 44) 

He described how badly the horses were treated: sometimes ridden up to nineteen hours per day without ever being brushed down or even having their saddles removed at night. Soft-hearted Twain chose the only horse whose back he had not seen. The others all had dreadful saddle boils that had not been doctored in years. He reasoned his horse must be like the others, but I have at least the consolation of not knowing it to be so.

Twain also touched on the horrible deformities of the beggars of Constantinople and the packs of dogs lying in the streets or scavenging the outskirts of towns. Another striking aspect of his account is that, unlike today, parts of Greece and the area around Galilee were almost treeless. Flies, dirt, dust and poverty were everywhere. 

Water Carriers in Albania

Things must have been very similar on the Royal Tour of 1862, but at first glance there is no sign of this desperate poverty, either in Bedford’s photos or Bertie’s journal. But on closer examination you can see hints of something bleaker. Have a look at the water carriers in this photograph. Some of them are literally dressed in rags. 

The prince must have known his journal would be read, if only by his mother the Queen, but amid his mild descriptions of banquets and hunting there are a few clues to the squalor he must have glimpsed. He describes Tiberias on the shore of Galilee in terms Twain might have used five years later: Easter Sunday April 20th 1862 - we walked into the town wh. is the filthiest, the worst built & the most wretched heap of buildings I ever saw.   

Jemima Blackburn's 1862 watercolour of Bertie in Thebes

I saw no dogs or beggars in Bedford’s carefully composed photos, (every non blurry figure must have been told to ‘hold still’ for at least 12 seconds), but there is a dog in this watercolour by Jemima Blackburn that gives an idea of the sort of cur Bertie and Twain might have come across.

Jemima Blackburn was a talented English illustrator who happened to be travelling in Egypt when she and her party came across the royal entourage. She painted this watercolour of the Prince receiving the newly-discovered mummy of a child at an archaeological excavation in Thebes (Karnak). Her depiction is charming, but when I recall Twain’s description of horses in miserable agony and children’s faces with ‘goggles of flies’ clustering on their eyes, I wonder how idealised it is. 

This raises an interesting question. Which medium most accurately shows us the Middle East in the 1860s: photography, painting or the written word? The answer must be that all three are able to hide aspects, but with careful scrutiny and comparison of sources, a good historian might be able to tease out the truth.

To paint or to click? Learning to look at portraits in photography and paintings is one of the sessions offered to pupils in Key stage 2 to Key stage 5. For more information, go here.

Cairo to Constantinople is on until 22 February 2015. Audio guide and study packs are included in the entry price. 

Caroline Lawrence’s P.K. Pinkerton mysteries for kids feature Mark Twain and lots about photography. They are perfect for schools studying America at Key stage 3. 

Crossing the Threshold by Caroline Lawrence

As he moved towards the mist of the fountains, Langdon had the uneasy sense he was crossing an imaginary threshold into another world. 
Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code p 37

Crossing the Threshold in The Assassins of Rome

Next weekend I'm going to hear a man named Christopher Vogler present his Essence of Storytelling Masterclass. Even though I've been a published author for nearly fifteen years, I still enjoy the occasional writing workshop or weekend seminar to hone my craft. Vogler is one of those Hollywood script doctors who never fails to inspire and excite. I look forward to hearing some of his gems on the craft of writing, especially plot.

Vogler was the Disney executive who – nearly forty years ago – wrote a memo suggesting that his fellow Disney screenwriters could base their plots on what he called The Hero's Journey. This was an outline derived from anthropologist Joseph Campbell's study of hero in world mythology: The Hero with a Thousand Faces. It set out 12 steps of the cyclical journey that a hero often makes. The memo went viral and soon writers from all studios were clamouring for it. George Lucas "discovered" Campbell's about the same time as Vogler and used it for Star Wars. The rest is history.

Some people claim that The Hero's Journey, also known as the Monomyth, is too constricting and has rendered all Hollywood formulaic. Like any tool, it depends on how you use it. I personally find it exciting because some of my favourite books and movies employ it. You can see a brief outline of the Twelve Steps of the Hero's Journey HERE.

I've heard Vogler speak before, but am looking forward to a return visit. At the moment I'm excited about step 5 of The Hero's Journey: Crossing the Threshold.

This is the point in any story where the hero leaves his ordinary world and enters the world of adventure. Sometimes it happens very early on in a story. Sometimes it happens at the end of Act 1, which some screenwriters mark as the Point of No Return. Sometimes there are several thresholds to be crossed.

Sometimes the hero Crosses a Threshold unwittingly. When Alice falls down the rabbit hole, she leaves her ordinary world and enters an amazing world of giants, miniatures and hookah-smoking caterpillars. When Lucy pushes through fur coats in a musty wardrobe she emerges into winter-gripped Narnia.

Sometimes the hero refuses the Call to Adventure and has to be urged to cross the Threshold. This urging is often the job of the mentor. Think of Obi Wan urging Luke to come with him to fight the Empire. Or of Morpheus urging Neo to take the red pill.

Sometimes the hero does not hesitate, but runs to enter the World of Adventure. Think of Katniss in the Hunger Games. In this case she meets the anti-Mentor Hamitch after she steps onto the train. Katniss will cross several thresholds and actually gets a second mentor in the form of Cinna. Another example of a hero who runs to cross is Mattie Ross in True Grit, when she rides Blackie across the icy river into Indian Territory.

Rivers are a popular obstacle to pass through when entering the World of Adventure. The River Styx is the border between the world of the Living and the World of the Dead. The Israelites crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land. Jesus emerged from baptismal waters and went straight into the wilderness to be tested.

In film, fantasy and myth-based stories, the moment of crossing the Threshold is often visually stunning. Think of Neo melting into the mirror. Or of the tornado that whisks Dorothy out of black and white Kansas and drops her into technicolor Munchkinland.

Often the Hero will encounter "Threshold Guardians" at the moment of Crossing the Threshold. Storm troopers try to stop Luke from leaving Tatooine. Percy Jackson must fight the Minotaur before achieving the refuge of Camp Halfblood. We encounter them every time we go to an airport or cross a border!

One of my favourite examples of a Threshold Guardian is a spoof of this step from Monty Python and The Holy Grail:

Bridgekeeper: Stop! Who would cross The Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.
Sir Lancelot: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I am not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your name?
Sir Lancelot: My name is Sir Lancelot of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your quest?
Sir Lancelot: To seek  Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What... is your favourite colour?
Sir Lancelot: Blue.
Bridgekeeper: Right. Off you go.

"Devils' Gate" Nevada

In my first Roman Mystery, The Thieves of Ostia, I have my girl detectrix Flavia Gemina cross a threshold in the very first chapter when she leaves her Roman town house to venture into the necropolis surrounding the port of Ostia. I didn't consciously know it was a literary trope when I wrote that chapter back in 1999. But we know how stories work by instinct. Now I that I do know about it, I try to use it wherever appropriate. In my first P.K. Pinkerton novel I have P.K. ride through Devil's Gate (left) on the way to Virginia City.

"Devil's Gate!" cried the driver, and I lifted my head to see two demonic rocks rearing up on either side of the road and the stagecoach about to pass between them… There was no going back now." The Case of the Deadly Desperados p 27-28

One of the reasons we derive so much satisfaction from watching our hero cross a threshold is that it is something we do every day of our lives. Every time we step outside our door.

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." Bilbo Baggins in Lord of the Rings

When speaking to primary school aged kids, I ask them to think of the Seven Thresholds We Cross in Our Lives. They usually come up with.

1. Birth
2. First Day at School
3. Trips Abroad
4. Leaving Home
5. Every New Job
6. Marriage/Moving In
7. Death

That's why this is such a great beat to put in our stories. It resonates with every human being.

What are some of your favourite Crossing the Threshold moments in stories, plays, movies or TV? 

Power Naps for Creative Writing

by Caroline Lawrence

Recent studies have shown that taking a short nap is a great way of improving productivity in a day.

You admired Google's sleep pods in the 2013 movie, The Internship. 

Ben and Jerry's employees can go to a designated power nap room.

detail of a 1964 patent to transform an ironing board to a slant board

My dad – a middle school teacher – used to have a contraption called a 'slant board', which was first patented in the swinging sixties. He would lie with his feet higher than his head, the theory being that the blood flooded back to the brain in the course of a short kip. After school let out at 3.30pm, my dad would lock the door of his office, then recharge his batteries with a fifteen minute nap before doing his marking and lesson plans. 

Pliny the Elder from the TV series

But the power nap is not a new invention. Way back in Roman times, Pliny the Elder practiced this technique. As any Classicist knows, this first century scholar and polymath was incredibly prolific, producing over a hundred volumes in his lifetime, including the thirty seven volumes of his Natural History, which is still in print today.  (left: Simon Callow as Pliny the Elder in the Roman Mysteries TV series.)

'You will wonder how a man as busy as he was could find time to compose so many books', writes Pliny the Younger to his friend Baebius Macer. The younger Pliny then goes on to give a detailed account of a Day in the Life of his famous uncle at the time he was in his late forties and early fifties. (Pliny the Elder had a weak chest and died aged 55 during the eruption of Vesuvius when overcome by the fumes.) 

Pliny the Elder would rise in the early hours of the morning sometimes as early as midnight, and worked by lamplight. Pliny the Younger admits that his uncle fell asleep easily and that he would often doze off, then wake to resume his work. Shortly before dawn, he would visit his friend the Emperor Vespasian who was also up at that time. Upon returning home, Pliny the Elder would have a light breakfast, then doze in the sun while listening to ancient Roman version of an audiobook (i.e. a slave reading aloud to him). After his sunbathing session he would bath in cold water, eat a light lunch and have a short nap (dormiebat minimum). We know it was a power nap because afterwards he would work until dinner time 'as if he had started a new day'! (Book III letter V in the Loeb edition of Pliny's Letters)

Pliny the Younger (left) from The Roman Mysteries 

Like Pliny the Elder and my dad, I have been taking power naps for years. Through trial and error, I have discovered the best time for me is around 4pm and for about 20 minutes. I find a short nap at this time gives me energy to get through another eight hours, with lights out at midnight or 1am before a natural rising between 5am and 7am. 

If you are a freelance writer, you are probably in the enviable position of being able to do this. But what if you're afraid of falling asleep, missing dinner and waking up in the middle of the night? Or simply of sleeping too long and too deep and waking up groggy? 

Adopt an alternate position on the bed!

You need to find the method that works best for you. Experimentation is the key. However, here are five techniques I have found very useful. 

1. I lie upside down at an angle on my bed, fully clothed but without shoes: barefoot in summer, socks in winter. This posture tells my body that Yes, I am going to sleep, but It's not sleep as we know it, Jim. In other words, it's different. It's a nap. It's a power nap.

2. I draw the curtains a little so that my sleeping space is dim but not too dark. Again, this tells my body that this is not the night-time sleeps. (There are two sleeps by the way, but that's another story!)

3. I put on a fan. The white noise tamps down background distractions and the soft breeze caressing your skin is very soothing, especially during long hot summers.  

a customised power nap playlist

4. In addition to the fan, I plug my earbuds in and listen to music on a very low volume. I choose three or four songs with a beat slower than my own heartbeat. Then I finish with a gently upbeat song that will bring me out of my sleep. 

5. I make customised power nap playlists to tie in with my creative work in progress. To give you an idea, here is one of my power nap playlists, from when I was working on my latest P.K. Pinkerton mystery, The Case of the Pistol-packing Widows. If I choose songs that tie in with what I'm writing, then I get some subliminal input while I'm recharging. (And yes, putting together a power nap playlist is a great way of procrastinating.)

A deeply ingrained Protestant work ethic make many people uneasy about sleeping in the afternoon, even writers who have no disapproving boss and who have the luxury of setting their own hours. If tackled with the right attitude, a power nap can be a powerful tool for reviving energy and stimulating creativity. After all, you're a writer. You are your own boss. 

Don't take it from me. Take it from Pliny the Elder! 

P.S. Images of Pliny the Elder and Pliny the Younger are from the Roman Mysteries TV series. (copyright © 2008 The Little Entertainment Group) 
P.P.S. If you have any tips, advice or comments, please do share!

Frisco before the Quake

A frame of the historic footage of Market Street in 1906

by Caroline Lawrence

One thing that fascinates us about the tragedy of Pompeii is how quickly disaster struck. From archaeological evidence we know that people were cooking, shopping, buying, selling and redecorating their houses right up to the moment Vesuvius erupted.

Recently I came across a piece of San Francisco history that aroused the same poignant emotions in me. The film reminded me of how life can turn to tragedy within the space of hours.

In researching my latest P.K. Pinkerton book I discovered that for a short space of time in the 1860s a steam train disguised as an omnibus traveled up and down Market Street, San Francisco’s great thoroughfare. While searching for photos of this rare conveyance, I stumbled across footage of Market Street shot in 1906. The eleven-minute clip is an amazing glimpse into life over a century ago.

Watch it once. Then read what I’ve written below.

On first viewing you will be struck by the how lively and crowded the scene is. We see men, women and children. There are policemen, paperboys, businessmen, teamsters, even a Chinese street sweeper. Many of the people are on foot. All of them without exception wear hats. Some ride bicycle or horses. Others step up on to cable cars or glance at us from carts. Teenage boys play ‘chicken’ with the cable car on which the camera is mounted. Horse-drawn carriages, carts, drays and omnibuses pass in and out of view. There are cable cars (pulled by an invisible steel cable below the tracks) and automobiles so old they still have right-hand drive.  

You see street signs, street lights, advertisements, flags, the muddy thoroughfare and buildings, including the famous Ferry Building looming at the end of the line. Another thing that strikes you on first viewing is the wild and wacky driving. Horses and carriages come from out of nowhere, pedestrians dice with death and half the automobiles seem to veer rashly in front of the cable car.

Now watch it again, using all your powers of observation. This time you might notice it is the same three or four cars driving in front of the camera, disappearing out of right screen, cutting across from right to left, then reappearing in front of the camera once again. Were these San Franciscans trying to grab their moment of fame by circling the camera? Probably not. The American documentary 60 Minutes (below) suggests chauffeurs and car-owners were hired to drive along Market Street and make it seem busier than it really was.

Knowing this doesn’t make the crazy traffic any less amusing, especially when you see some of the bolder paperboys jumping up onto the back of a car to hitch a ride.

For many years, the library of Congress dated the film to September 1905, six months before the great earthquake. But after hours of meticulous research, movie detective David Kiehn figured out that it was actually filmed only a week before the great earthquake. Even more astonishing is the fact that the film was shipped to New York the very night before the quake. If it had stayed in the offices of the filmmakers just another day it would have been lost forever.

1906 is the infamous date known to all those who grow up in the San Francisco Bay Area. On April 18th a terrible earthquake struck. This quake and the resulting fire devastated San Francisco. Chances are that many of the people you see in this film were lost in that tragic event. The last three minutes of this film clip (above) shows the devastation. So when you watch these films just think what a privilege it is to glimpse a joyous city only days before disaster struck. It also reminds us to be grateful for every day and carpe diem! (Seize the day)

P.S. Never call it 'Frisco'. Only out-of-towners and tourists call it that. Or bloggers looking for a pithy title.

Caroline Lawrence is author of The Roman Mysteries, The Roman Mysteries Scrolls and the P.K. Pinkerton Mysteries. Find out more HERE. 

Tips for Writing Dialogue by Caroline Lawrence

AKA The Case of the Good-looking Corpse

In real life, dialogue is usually pretty dull. But we novelists need to learn to write dialogue that sounds real but is interesting. Why?

• Dialogue identifies a character.

• Dialogue reveals motives and desires.

• Dialogue helps exposition.

• Dialogue breaks up blocks of text.

• Dialogue can provide comic relief.

Ideally, your most important characters should have such a unique voice that the reader can tell who is speaking solely by length of sentence, choice of vocabulary and various verbal ticks.

I’m a visual person so my ear for dialogue is not as good as some writers’. For this reason, I’ve made a special effort to pick up tips and advice. Over the years, I have compiled a checklist of things to keep in mind I write dialogue. I often refer to these once I’ve written my first draft and apply them in subsequent passes. Here are twenty in no particular order:

1. Period slang. When writing historical fiction, have characters use a few period words or slang phrases that immediately tell your reader where and when you are.
‘You dam scalawag. That stung where you shot me.’

2. Have characters interrupt each other. In real life we don’t always wait for the other person to stop talking.

3. Answer a question with a question. The response can either imply the answer or be used as avoidance. (Or occasionally indicate that the speaker is Jewish.)
‘You want your ma should look like a saloon girl?’

4. Accents. These can be suggested with words and word order.

‘Sure and it’s a bold notion. But have you ever worn a corset at all?’

           

5. Have your character’s dialogue reveal his attitude towards the person he is talking to. For example, a woman would speak differently to her lover than to her arch-enemy.
‘Don’t be angry, Jacey,’ she spoke in a pouty little-girl voice. ‘I only wanted to spend time with you.’

6. Two paths. In a dialogue, character A often ignores character B and vice versa as they talk pursue their own agendas. Sometimes these dialogue paths converge and diverge several times in the course of a scene.

7. Jargon. A character’s vocabulary will often provide clues about their profession or obsessions.
‘Me and my pard Frenchy had a nice little claim in Flowery Canyon. Then a passel of Frisco Fat Cats came and ruined us.’

8. Left-field. A response might seem irrelevant, surprising or unconventional. But this might be a clue about the responder’s preoccupation or mental state.

           

9. Chop-chop! Some characters might chop words off the beginning of sentences and other characters might tail off without finishing a thought.

‘You had dinner?’

10. Good grammar/bad grammar. An extremely useful way to show a character’s education and even social status.

‘They called him that because they don’t know no better. Cheeya be his real name.’

11. Delayed gratification. Character A asks a question and B talks about other things before answering A’s question.

12. Self-adjustment. A character starts, then stops and tries a new approach. We do this all the time in real life.

13. Profanity. From ‘Gee whiz!’ to the worst four-letter words, each character will have their own pet swear words. And if you’re writing historical fiction these can be period slang.

‘Dang my buttons,’ said Mr. Sam Clemens. ‘I do believe I am lousy.’

14. Me, me, me. Some characters are so self-obsessed that everything they say concerns them.

15. Displacement. Character A might express anger, affection, passion towards Character B because they are afraid to directly address Character C.

16. Subtext. A character’s choice of words often reveals what s/he is feeling below surface.

17. Freudian slips. We all do it: find ourselves saying something we didn’t mean to say. This is a great way of revealing hidden motives and desires.

18. Actions. Non-verbal reactions can be a form of dialogue, if a character drops an object, faints or bursts out laughing in response to a statement or question.
‘Jace will never marry you,’ I said.
She blew out smoke, hard & down. 

19.  Silence. The lack of response in dialogue can sometimes be as powerful as any word spoken or shouted.

Violetta narrowed her eyes at me. ‘What is Jace to you anyway?’

I did not reply.

20. Hodor. Sometimes even a single word can carry a world of meaning. In my current work in progress, The Case of the Bogus Detective, I have one character speak another’s name three times but with three different facial expressions.

P.K. Pinkerton's 3rd detective case is set in Carson City, Nevada Territory in early 1863

The Case of the Pistol-packing Widows is out now in the UK and  the USA.