Discover what implied dialogue is and four ways you can use it in your novel, whatever the genre, to enrich your readers’ experience.
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TABLE 1
Text |
Type of prose |
Psychic distance between narrator and reader
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‘Spoiler,’ said Reynolds. ‘I re-interviewed the surviving witnesses and they agreed that Anthony Lane opened fire at the Mary Engine and the jars on the rack. Before you ask, they were both interns and didn’t know where the items had come from.’
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Direct speech
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Wider
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The dead guy, a certain Branwell Petersen, MIT graduate and former Microsoft employee, had died, the witnesses thought, because he stepped between the shooter and the Rose Jars.
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Implied dialogue
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Closer
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‘The interns said he threw himself into the line of fire,’ said Reynolds. ‘As if his life was less important.’
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Direct speech
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Wider
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TABLE 2a
Text |
Type of prose |
I stopped to orientate myself and spotted a street sign – Coldharbour Lane. I’d been in bloody Brixton the whole time. […] I wanted off the street, but didn’t want to put a random homeowner in danger. Instead we ran left towards the train station.
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Narrative: Location of lair
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[…] After less than a hundred metres, Foxglove was showing signs of serious distress and I felt her stumble a couple of times, but we’d reached the shopping parade by then and fortunately the Nisa Local was still open. A nervous black girl of about fifteen who was manning the tills gave us a weary look of disgust as we rushed in. Then got all confused when I told her I was a police office and that I needed to use a phone.
[…] I retreated with Foxglove into the corner where we’d be hidden by the shelves and called Guleed. |
Narrative: Location of store
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[…] Guleed picked up, and I said, ‘We’re in the Nisa Local near Brixton Station and Chorley’s lair is on Coldharbour Lane.’
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Direct speech: Repetition of narrative x2
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TABLE 2b
Text |
Type of prose |
I stopped to orientate myself and spotted a street sign – Coldharbour Lane. I’d been in bloody Brixton the whole time. […] I wanted off the street, but didn’t want to put a random homeowner in danger. Instead we ran left towards the train station.
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Narrative: Location of lair
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[…] After less than a hundred metres, Foxglove was showing signs of serious distress and I felt her stumble a couple of times, but we’d reached the shopping parade by then and fortunately the Nisa Local was still open. A nervous black girl of about fifteen who was manning the tills gave us a weary look of disgust as we rushed in. Then got all confused when I told her I was a police office and that I needed to use a phone.
[…] I retreated with Foxglove into the corner where we’d be hidden by the shelves and called Guleed. |
Narrative: Location of store
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Guleed picked up, and I told her where I was, and where Chorley’s lair was, and let her get on with it.
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Implied dialogue
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TABLE 3
Text |
Type of prose |
Psychic distance between narrator and reader
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I flipped the master power switch as soon as I was inside and pulled a Coke out of the fridge to serve as a coffee substitute while I waited for my PC to boot up. As soon as Skype was running, Reynolds’s call flashed up.
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Narrative
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Closer
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‘What was all that about?’ I asked when I saw her face.
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Direct speech
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Wider
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‘Skinner’s been connected to another case,’ she said.
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Direct speech
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Wider
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At 10.15 on a Monday morning in August 2015, one Anthony Lane walked into the offices of an obscure tech start-up in San Jose carrying a concealed handgun. He talked his way past the receptionist before using the threat of force to gain access to the secure area at the rear and then, once he was in, opened fire. One person was killed instantly, two others were wounded and Lane himself was shot eight times in the back by a responding police officer. The attack barely made the news, being just one of several hundred to several thousand – depending on where you set the parameters – of active shooter incidents so far that year.
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Implied dialogue
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Closer
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‘It wasn’t on my list,’ said Reynolds, ‘because the perp was dead.’
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Direct speech
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Wider
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TABLE 4
Text |
Type of prose |
‘I’ve checked for booby traps and handed it over to the local boys. Alexander is sending a search party tomorrow.’
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Direct speech
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He asked after Stephanopoulos and I passed on the assurances that Dr Walid had given me. I asked if he was heading back tonight and he said he was.
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Implied dialogue
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‘Anything else to report?’ he asked.
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Direct speech
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‘A creeping sense of existential dread,’ I said. ‘Apart from that I’m good.’
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Direct speech
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‘Chin up, Peter. He’s on his last legs – I can feel it.’
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Direct speech
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Once Nightingale had rung off I called Guleed, who’d been arriving as a nasty surprise to bell foundries and metal casting companies from Dudley to Wolverhampton all day.
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Narrative
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She said she’d been just about to phone.
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Implied dialogue
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‘I was right,’ she said. ‘There’s another bell.’
[SECTION BREAK] |
Direct speech: Standout one-liner
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They veered onto a side street off Storgatan.
Jorge's phone rang. Paola: "It's me. Que haces, hermano?" Jorge thought: Should I tell her the truth? "I'm in Södertälje." "At a bakery?" Paola: J-boy loved her. Still, he couldn't take it. He said, "Yeah, yeah, ‘course I'm at a bakery. But we gotta talk later—I got my hands full of muffins here." They hung up. |
Maycomb was an old town, but it was a tired old town when I first knew it. In rainy weather the streets turned to red slop; grass grew on the sidewalks, the court-house sagged in the square. Somehow, it was hotter then; a black dog suffered on a summer’s day; bony mules hitched to Hoover carts flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square. Men’s stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon, after their three o’clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft tea-cakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.
People moved slowly then. They ambled across the square, shuffled in and out of the stores around it, took their time about everything. A day was twenty-four hours long but seemed longer. There was no hurry, for there was nowhere to go, nothing to buy and no money to buy it with, nothing to see outside the boundaries of Maycomb County. But it was a time of vague optimism for some of the people: Maycomb County had recently been told that it had nothing to fear but fear itself. |
‘I’ plus filter word. Reader’s gaze is inwards, on the how
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Recast: Reader’s gaze drawn outwards towards the what
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I recall the argument we had last week.
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Last week’s argument is still fresh in my mind.
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I recognized the man’s face.
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The man’s face was familiar.
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I saw the guy turn left and dart into the alley.
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The guy turned left and darted into the alley.
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I spotted the red Chevy from yesterday parked outside the bank.
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There, parked outside the bank, was the same red Chevy from yesterday.
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I still feel ashamed about the vile words I unleashed even after all these years.
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The vile words I unleashed still have the power to bathe me in shame even after all these years.
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‘I’-centred introspection
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‘I’-less introspection
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I wasn’t sure if Shami was a reliable witness but I couldn’t afford to ignore her, given what she’d divulged.
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Was Shami a reliable witness? Maybe, maybe not. She couldn’t be ignored given what she’d divulged.
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I still didn’t know who the killer was.
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The killer’s identity was still a mystery.
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I wondered whether Shami was a reliable witness.
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Shami might or might not be a reliable witness.
Shami’s reliability as a witness was hardly a given. Shami’s reliability as a witness was questionable. |
“Come on!” he screams.
‘It’s very … evocative,’ says Ruth. This is true. The brushwork may be crude, the planes out of perspective and the figures barely more than stick men, but there’s something about the work of the unknown airman that brings back the past more effectively than any documentary or reconstruction. |
‘But you think they’re coming back,’ Karen said.
‘Yes, indeed, and we gonna have a surprise party. I want you to take a radio, go down to the lobby and hang out with the folks. You see Foley and this guy Bragg, what do you do?’ ‘Call and tell you.’ ‘And you let them come up. You understand? You don’t try to make the bust yourself.’ Burdon slipping back into his official mode. Karen said, ‘What if they see me?’ ‘You don’t let that happen,’ Burdon said. ‘I want them upstairs.’ |
‘We’ll bring him in,’ says Lady Tippins, sportively waving her green fan. ‘Veneering for ever!’
‘We’ll bring him in!’ says Twemlow. ‘We’ll bring him in!’ say Boots and Brewer. Strictly speaking, it would be hard to show cause why they should not bring him in, Pocket-Breaches having closed its little bargain, and there being no opposition. However, it is agreed that they must ‘work’ to the last, and that, if they did not work, something indefinite would happen. It is likewise agreed they are all so exhausted with the work behind them, and need to be so fortified for the work before them, as to require peculiar strengthening from Veneering’s cellar. |
‘Mr Little tells me that when he came to the big scene in Only a Factory Girl, his uncle gulped like a stricken bull-pup.’
‘Indeed, sir?’ ‘Where Lord Claude takes the girl in his arms, you know, and says—’ ‘I am familiar with the passage, sir. It is distinctly moving. It was a great favourite of my aunt’s.’ ‘I think we’re on the right track.’ ‘It would seem so, sir.’ ‘In fact, this looks like being another of your successes. I’ve always said, and I always shall say, that for sheer brains, Jeeves, you stand alone. All the other great thinkers of the age are simply in the crowd, watching you go by.’ ‘Thank you very much, sir. I endeavour to give satisfaction.’ |
‘Why, it’s what I’m obliged to keep a little of in the house, to put into the blessed infants’ Daffy, when they ain’t well, Mr Bumble,’ replied Mrs Mann as she opened a corner cupboard, and took down a bottle and glass. ‘I’ll not deceive you, Mr B. It’s gin.’
‘Do you give the children Daffy, Mrs Mann?’ inquired Bumble, following with his eyes the interesting process of mixing. ‘Ah, bless ’em, that I do, dear as it is,’ replied the nurse. ‘I couldn’t see ’em suffer before my very eyes, you know, sir.’ |
‘I believe it is important to provide the best possible care for the patients regardless of the manner in which they got themselves into their present predicament,’ Ziegler continued. ‘Desperate people are often driven to do desperate things. I have known young women to take their own lives because they could not face the consequences of being with child; and some because they could not face their families discovering it.’
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‘[…] My father described the regular pom-pom-pom of the cannons and the increasingly high-pitched wails of the planes as they dived. He said he’d heard them every night since.
‘The last day of the battle he was standing on the bridge when they saw a plane emerging. […] Then he jumped overboard and was gone.’ The Bat (p. 251), Jo Nesbo, Vintage, 2013 |
Ray studied his drink and narrowed his eyes. ‘You can be cruel sometimes, you know. I don’t know where you got it from. “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth …” Your mother didn’t have a cruel bone in her body.’
Sleeping in the Ground (p. 261), Peter Robinson, Hodder & Stoughton, 2017 “I had no idea why he was bringing that up now. So when I asked him he said, ‘Remember when the going got tough, who was there for you. Remember your old man was right there holding your hand. Always think of me trying to do the right thing, honey. Always. No matter what.’” The Fix (p. 428), David Baldacci, Pan Books, 2017 |
3 COMPONENTS OF EFFECTIVE DIALOGUE
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Cited sources
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‘And who could tell after the blast if the explosion wasn’t atomic?’ he asked.
‘No, my Lady. They’ll not risk anything that illegal. Radiation lingers. The evidence is hard to erase.’ (Dune, p. 181) ‘Is that what you thought, honey? I’m so sorry – I never meant for you to find out.’ “Hey, Captain Letch. Try thinking with your head instead of your dick. Maybe you’ll find out whodunit before someone else gets killed.” |
The Big Sleep, p. 140:
‘Nice work, Marlowe. Are you my bodyguard now?’ Her voice had a harsh note. ‘Looks that way. Here’s the bag.’ She took it. I said: ‘Have you a car with you?’ She laughed. ‘I came with a man. What are you doing here?’ Butchered version: ‘Nice work, Marlowe. Are you my bodyguard now?’ Her voice had a harsh note. ‘Looks that way, Vivian. Here’s the bag.’ She took it. I said: ‘Have you a car with you, Vivian?’ She laughed. ‘I came with a man. What are you doing here, Marlowe?’ |
There was a high-pitched scream and, almost simultaneously, a cry from the lounge. Jonesy jumped off her lap and padded under the bed, reappearing a moment later with a dead mouse in his jaws.
‘Jonesy! Where did you get that?’ (29 Seconds, p. 157) ‘Jake, is that your new car over there?’ Mal said. ‘You don’t have a clue who I am, do you, you bumbling fool?’ Lord Pompous asked. ‘Did you know, Beelzebub, that your wings are scorched?’ Lucifer said, poking the fiery brimstone. |
With vocative comma
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Without comma
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“Let’s eat, children,” said a salivating Wendy.
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“Let’s eat children,” said a salivating Wendy.
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‘Shoot, Sergeant Ash!’ ordered the captain.
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‘Shoot Sergeant Ash!’ ordered the captain.
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To get a lawyer would mean calling on my family for finances. The only officer I would have really liked—a barrister who had been sailing with us several times—was obvious. “As far as I’m concerned, sir,” I said, “I’d be glad if you’d act for me.” (Maddon’s Rock, p. 75)
‘Honestly, darling. I’d never do anything to hurt you. He means nothing to me. Nothing.’ Marie yawned and flicked a crumb off the table. “Don’t push it, love. I have neither the time nor the patience.” ‘Hey, numbskull! Try searching on Google before you email a busy colleague with your query.’ The sounds of the steps grew louder, and the whistling went on cheerfully. In a moment the jerkin showed. I stepped out between the two cars and said: ‘Got a match, buddy?’ (The Big Sleep, p. 96) ‘Maybe in the service,’ Reacher said. ‘Not necessarily in some half-assed private company.’ ‘I don’t see a difference.’ ‘Well, you ought to, soldier.’ ‘Watch your mouth, pal. I’m helping you out here.’ (The Hard Way, p. 141) |
“For shame! For shame!” cried the lady’s maid. “What shocking conduct, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress’s son. Your young master.” (Jane Eyre, Chapter 2)
‘Surely you realized, Master Doolittle, that your father could talk to the animals,’ said Eliza as she slid off the pushmi-pullyu. ‘You, dear Jack, are the light of my life,’ said Bobby. ‘Well, nearly – sweet baby James glows a little brighter.’ |
Unlikely thought
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Thought framed in criticism
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Louise stopped in front of the mirror. Time to brush those blonde locks, she thought.
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Louise stopped in front of the mirror. Christ, blonde really isn’t my colour, she thought.
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‘So do I,’ said Banks. After a short pause he went on. ‘Anyway, I seem to remember you told me you went to Silver Royd girls’ school in Wortley.’
‘That’s right. Why?’ ‘Does the name Wendy Vincent mean anything to you?’ ‘Yes, of course. She was the girl who was murdered when I was at school. [...] It was terrible.’ Banks looked away. He couldn’t help it, knowing the things that had happened to Linda, but she seemed unfazed. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘And there was something about her in the papers a couple of years ago. The fiftieth anniversary. Right?’ ‘That’s the one.’ ‘It seems a strange sort of anniversary to celebrate. A murder.’ ‘Media. What can I say? It wasn’t a [...]’ (Sleeping in the Ground by Peter Robinson, pp. 273–4) |
‘I wanted to believe he could love me the way I loved him. And then I heard him ask Sophie to marry him, and … and …’ She dissolved into weeping.
(Closed Casket by Sophie Hannah, p. 165) ‘See these?’ She jangled the keys inches from my face then lobbed them over the fence. ‘Not taking them. No way. It’s bribery.’ ‘Right, that list of names – you said there were eighteen.’ ‘Eighty. Not eighteen. Sorry.’ I closed my eyes, massaging my aching temples. ‘Go on then. Take it from the top.’ |
He bends down and starts fiddling with the dial. “Hank asked me to hold something for him.”
(Don’t Let Go by Harlan Coben, p. 201). ‘Just cuts and bruising?’ ‘Yes. The smaller ones had already healed by the time I was found, but this one …’ He placed a finger against chin. I could see star-shaped stitch marks tracing the line of the scar. ‘This one became pretty badly infected. The middle of my face was swollen and there was pus coming out of the wound. I got some sort of bone infection off the back of it as well. It was bad.’ (I Am Missing by Tim Weaver, p. 13) Dave glanced at the signature tattoo on the Matt’s hand. ‘That looks familiar. Who inked you?’ ‘How do you think we should play this?’ I walked over to the window and watched the evening rush-hour traffic. ‘Low profile or head on?’ |
Ray studied his drink and narrowed his eyes. ‘You can be cruel sometimes, you know. I don’t know where you got it from. “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth …” Your mother didn’t have a cruel bone in her body.’
(Sleeping in the Ground by Peter Robinson, p. 261) Laura shrugged. “If you came equipped with a bone saw—” “Door opens, silenced 9mm in the brain, killer closes the door, cuts off Young’s hand and bags it, leaves the musical score in the other hand and gets out of there in, say, under five minutes?” “It’s possible.” I turned to Crabbie. “And the rest of the house was untouched. No trophies taken, no money, nothing like that.” “What are you thinking?” he asked. (The Cold Cold Ground by Adrian McKinty, p. 117) James pressed two fingers to his cheek and winced. ‘I’m heading off to the dentist.’ |
Indirect/reported
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Rathbone thought Cumberbatch’s portrayal of Sherlock Holmes was excellent and decided it was time to hang up his deerstalker.
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Direct/quoted
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‘Time I hung up my deerstalker,’ said Rathbone. ‘That Cumberbatch chap’s doing a sterling job with Holmes.’
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Free indirect speech
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Time to hang up his deerstalker – that Cumberbatch chap was doing a sterling job with Holmes.
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It had been on her mind for days. The last thing on her mind as she let the oblivion of sleep overtake her, the first thought on waking.
Earlier that morning, she’d groaned at the invasive ringtone from her partner’s iPhone. Bloody cathedral bells. How could such a small slab of silicone produce so much noise? At this rate, she was going to end up as the Quasimodo of the A&E department. ‘Paula,’ she grumbled sleepily. ‘It’s my day off.’ |
She tensed in the doorway, holding herself erect, terrified that by moving she would give away her position and feel the wet kiss of a blade, or bone-shattering impact of a hammer.
Another press of air lifted fronds of her hair from her face. Abruptly, she recalled the window she had found at the back of the house, open to the night. Of course. That was the source of the breeze. [...] Was there anything she had forgotten? The Nissan’s keys were in her right-hand pocket. She had the two books from the study. That was it. Reaching for the deadbolt, she carefully drew it back. Breathe in. Breathe out. |
Reacher asked himself: did they see me? He answered himself: of course they did. Close to certainty. The mugger saw me. That was for damn sure. And these other guys are smarter than any mugger. [...] Then he asked himself: but were they worried? Answered himself: no, they weren’t. The mugger saw a professional opportunity. That was all.
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The cop, Broome, entered the house. Ken wanted to curse, but he never cursed. Instead, he used his favorite word for such moments – setback. That was all this was. The measure of a man isn’t how many times he gets knocked down; it’s how many times he gets back up again. He texted Barbie to stay put. He tried to listen in but it was too risky. [...]
What more could any man want? He knew, of course, that it wouldn’t be that simple. He had compulsions, but even those he could share with his beloved. What was he waiting for? He turned back toward the house. |
1
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Dave glanced at the guy’s hand and spotted the absence of the signature tattoo. It forced him to consider the integrity of the intel he’d been given. Again. And it bothered him.
Third-person: A narrator reports the situation and what the character’s thinking. Most distant. There’s shallower emotional connection between the reader and the viewpoint character. The narrator’s voice is more clinical and dominates. |
2
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Dave glanced at the guy’s hand and spotted the absence of the signature tattoo. ‘Christ,’ he muttered under his breath, not for the first time questioning the integrity of the intel he’d been given.
Third-person: A narrator reports the situation and most of what the character’s thinking. First-person: A character reports a little of what he’s thinking. Less distant. The dialogue burst gives voice to the character, which introduces tension. |
3
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Dave glanced at the guy’s hand and spotted the absence of the signature tattoo. Christ, he thought. Maybe my intel’s been compromised yet again.
Third-person: A narrator reports the situation. First-person: A character reports what he’s thinking. Closer. Readers might find italic thoughts and tags disruptive, or believe that such well-structured thoughts aren’t authentic. |
4
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Dave glanced at the guy’s hand and spotted the absence of the signature tattoo. ‘Christ, maybe my intel’s been compromised again,’ he muttered.
Third-person: A narrator reports the situation. First-person: A character shares his concerns out loud. As close as (3) above. Dialogue might seem forced, unnatural, spoken purely to help the reader understand what the problem is. |
5
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Dave glanced at the guy’s hand. No signature tattoo. Christ, had his intel been compromised again?
Third-person: A narrator reports the situation, and a character reports what he’s thinking via free indirect style. We’re right inside the character’s head but there’s no cluttering italic, speech marks or tagging. The free indirect style feels natural precisely because it’s rendered in the third-person and yet it holds the intimacy of a first-person experience offered in (3) and (4). |
6
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I glanced at the guy’s hand. There was no signature tattoo. Christ, had my intel been compromised again?
First-person: A viewpoint character reports the situation and what he’s thinking. Closest. We’re right inside the character’s head, there’s no clutter, and the narrative feels completely natural. However, this only works if you’ve chosen a first-person narrative for this viewpoint character throughout the book, which you might find limiting. |
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