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Share a quote from your characters

Dialogue tells us a lot more about characters than just what they’re saying and the kind of mood they're in. 

The words we put in a character’s mouth give our readers an insight into his/her personality. They help us get to know and understand that person better. If readers like what’s said (and the way it’s said), they’ll feel more connected and therefore more involved in the story as a whole.

Besides, from a personal point of view, making up dialogue is one of things I enjoy most about the writing process.  

With that in mind, I thought it might be fun to share some of the things we have our characters say.

To start us off, here are some one-liners from Snowy, the talking cat in my MG urban fantasy, Fur-Face:

“I don’t beg. I just let them feed me sometimes…when I’m starving…or hungry…or feeling a bit peckish.”

“How would I know how to work a computer? I’m a cat. The only hacking I do is when I need to get rid of a fur-ball.”

“Bill, it’s the middle of the night, I’m a black cat, wearing a pair of sunglasses. How much more camouflaged could I get?” 

Hopefully, if I’ve done my job right, any one of those sentences should show a little of Snowy’s character, even without narrative.  

How about you?  

What have your creations been saying and what does their dialogue say about them?

Care to share?

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Apr. 17th, 2010 08:12 pm (UTC)
I get ample opportunity for that with the American War Correspondant
and her lorry-driving girlfriend...

“Do you have a barracks?” I asked as I broke the second scone apart to begin buttering it.

“Still mooching about my parents’ in Shoreditch,” she replied. Like many of the things she said, I didn’t quite understand this, but assumed it meant she wasn’t billeted with a specific unit.


“Any Horlicks?” she asked.

“No.” I’d stopped at several grocers, but all of them had been sold out.

“Mister Fox must have found it all,” she remarked as she expertly poured the batter out. Her crumpets were even, now, and almost perfectly round. Smelled good, too, as they cooked.

“He’ll want more than three and six for it,” I said, realizing as I said it that I was beginning to understand how British money worked. “Whom do you know in the RAF?” I asked, glancing at a letter in my hand. We’d received it in the morning post, which I’d brought upstairs with me.

“No one I’m aware of knowing,” she replied.

“A Captain Dacking in Malta,” I told her, looking at the envelope for the name.

“Wasn’t he our landlord?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s the one. Shall I open it?”

“Let me,” she replied, reaching for it. “You might have rather a rum go of it, not knowing the language.”

Things What I Wrote and Other Stuff

No longer in print but there are still some copies floating around out there

No longer in print but there are still some copies floating around out there



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