Dialog Exercise Time, Place, And Genre

DIALOG EXERCISE: TIME, PLACE, AND GENRE In my one-day seminar Living Dialog, I give each scholar this little excerpt from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey and ask them to rewrite it so it’s set in a time, place, and/or style of their alternative. It’s a enjoyable train, meant to get you excited about what dialog can do apart from simply expressing some level of fact. Here’s the excerpt: That moment a rustling of leaves attracted her consideration; then the acquainted clinking accompaniment of a gradual, gentle, measured step, and Lassiter walked into the courtroom. “Jane, there’s a fellow out there with a protracted gun,” he mentioned, and, removing his sombrero, showed his head certain in a bloody scarf. “I heard the shot; I knew it was meant for you. Let me seeâ€"you can’t be badly injured?” “I reckon not. But mebbe it wasn’t a detailed call! . . . I’ll sit right here on this corner where no person can see me from the grove.” He untied the headscarf and eliminated it to indicate an extende d, bleeding furrow above his left temple. “It’s solely a cut,” stated Jane. “But the way it bleeds! Hold your scarf over it only a second until I come again.” She bumped into the house and returned with bandages; and whereas she bathed and dressed the wound Lassiter talked. “That fellow had an excellent chance to get me. But he must have flinched when he pulled the set off. As I dodged down I noticed him run through the timber. He had a rifle. I’ve been expectin’ that sort of gun play. I reckon now I’ll need to hold a little nearer hid myself. These fellers all appear to get chilly or shaky after they draw a bead on me, however considered one of them would possibly jest happen to hit me.” “Won’t you go awayâ€"depart Cottonwoods as I’ve begged you toâ€"before somebody does happen to hit you?” she appealed to him. “I reckon I’ll stay.” “But, oh, Lassiterâ€"your blood will be on my palms!” “See right here, woman, have a look at your arms now, rig ht now. Aren’t they fine, firm, white hands? Aren’t they bloody now? Lassiter’s blood! That’s a queer factor to stain your lovely arms. But if you might solely see deeper you’d discover a redder shade of blood. Heart colour, Jane!” “Oh! . . . My good friend!” “No, Jane, I’m not one to quit when the sport grows scorching, no more than you. This game, though, is new to me, an’ I don’t know the strikes but, else I wouldn’t have stepped in front of that bullet.” “Have you no desire to hunt the man who fired at youâ€"to find himâ€"andâ€"and kill him?” “Well, I reckon I haven’t any great hankerin’ for that.” First, think about this in the original style it was written in, a western, after all. Note how totally different Jane’s dialog is than Lassiter’s. Clearly this is meant to convey that Jane is extra educated, more genteel than Lassiter. And in Lassiter’s dialog look at how Zane Grey shortened some phrases and misspelled others to provide t hat character a sort of “cowboy accent”: hankerin’, mebbe. And how the order of words truly do a good higher job of creating the cowboy cadence: I reckon now I’ll should keep a little nearer hid myself. I’ll rewrite the scene as a Nineteen Thirties hardboiled detective story: That second a rustling of newspapers attracted her consideration; then the familiar tap of a slow, gentle, measured step, and Lassiter walked into the court. “Jane, there’s a torpedo out there with a gat,” he mentioned, and, eradicating his fedora, showed his head certain in a bloody handkerchief. “I heard the shot; I knew it was meant for you. Let me seeâ€"you can’t be badly injured?” “Nah. That hood would possibly’ve been tryin’ to flub it . . . I’ll take a load off right here on this nook the place them palookas can’t see me from the grove.” He untied the handkerchief and removed it to indicate an extended, bleeding furrow above his left temple. “It’s solely a reduce,” mentioned Jane. “But how it bleeds! Hold your hanky over it just a moment until I come back.” She bumped into the home and returned with bandages; and while she bathed and dressed the wound Lassiter talked. “That chump had an excellent likelihood to plug me. But he should have flinched when he pulled the trigger. I hit the deck but peeped him high-taillin’ it via the bushes. He had a Tommy gun. I’ve been expectin’ that kinda Chicago lightning. I guess now I’ll havta go to the mattresses. These goons all appear to get the heebie jeebies when they degree a Roscoe at me, however considered one of ’em might just handle to ventilate me.” “Won’t you go awayâ€"go away Cottonwoods as I’ve begged you toâ€"earlier than somebody does occur to hit you?” she appealed to him. “I ain’t no pushover to go climb up my thumb just causeâ€"” “But, oh, Lassiterâ€"your blood might be on my arms!” “See here, Sheba, take a look at them mitts now, proper now. Aren’t t hey fine, firm, white flippers? Aren’t they bloody now? And that’s my blood! You received yerself a bit of my coronary heart in them meat hooks, Toots! I’m dizzy for ya.” “Oh! . . . You massive lug!” “No, Dollface, I’m not one to take the run out simply cause the warmth’s on, no more than you. This kinda warmth, though, is the rumble to me, an’ I don’t know the play but, or else I wouldn’t have ankled in front of that slug.” “Don’t you wish to discover the person who shot at youâ€"to seek out himâ€"andâ€"and kill him?” “Not this bunny, Dolly.” Same story, same details, identical primary characters, but a really totally different time and place. Feel free to offer this a attempt. â€"Philip Athans About Philip Athans Fill in your details below or click on an icon to log in: