Listen Up, Y'all: A Guide to Writing in A Voice That Isn't Yours

As I have mentioned before, I recently entered a short story contest. The short story I wrote for this contest is told in a voice that is not my own-- the Southern accent of a 19th-century farm girl.

I was pretty worried about this choice.

For one, I hate reading dialect written badly. Is there anything more painful than reading a poorly-written story with a badly affected faux-British/fancy tone?

"Summon the butler," Poncey barked imperiously. "I wish to speak with him." He twirled his well-waxed mustache and inspected the trembling figure of the maid before him. What a little doormouse the poor chit was.

"Yes, my lord," the maid Nancy said, shivering nervously.

Train wreck. Also, adverbs. Ewww.

But after showing the story to a few friends and family, and sharing it with the online critique group (part of the terms of the contest), I got great feedback. People liked it.

The tone, that is. They had plenty of other bones to pick.

But the voice worked for them. And it worked for me, who's pretty darn picky about that kind of thing.

So what did I get right? What on earth rendered my narrator believable, rather than grating? What suggestions can I pass on, from what I've learned, that might help others? I thought about it for two days and this is what I came up with.

1. Listen.

Being a writer starts with being an observer of the world. Many writers are quiet, strange, solitary people, who prefer the edges of the room at a party. (Many are also loud-mouthed party animals, or normal family-types, but those examples don't fit my purpose, so hush.) For whatever reason, we find ourselves noticing things others don't-- whether it be the exact motion that the girl across the room uses to pull her hair out from under her jacket, or the strange mauve color the ceiling turns at dusk.

When you turn these powers of observation to the way people speak, you'll find yourself picking up many unique little patterns. Maybe it's the way your grandmother says "warsh" instead of "wash." Maybe it's the way your best friend says, "bless," when she means, "this person is a loser and possibly insane, but I don't want to be mean about it." Maybe it's the way a TV show you're currently binging on overuses the phrase "I'm not joking," in weird and unnecessary places. 

Develop an ear for the way people talk, and that will go a long way towards helping each of your characters sound authentic and unique, whether they're narrating the story or just having a conversation.

It will also go a long way towards driving your friends nuts when you incessantly point out their speech patterns. ("Do you realize that you always say, 'Yeah, and also (verbatim what I just said), like you're adding a new point, but you're actually just repeating me?" "No, but did YOU realize that you're an asshat and I hate you?" "Whoops.")

Yay?

2. Research

If you really want to write in dialect, or from the perspective of a 17th-century pearl diver, or go into details about the lingo and tools of a mechanic, then you need to know your stuff. If you're faking it, people will be able to tell. It will ring false, and everybody will be making this face:

 

Aside: On the other hand, please note that the fact that you did the research is NOT a good enough reason for all of it to go into your book/story/whatever. You learned it, you know it, now PLEASE don't take a 15-page section out of the middle of your vampire-priest story to give me a detailed history of the Vatican.

To get a handle on how an accent or dialect sounds, find clips of people from that region talking on Youtube. Find movies with actors from that area, or at least actors who are faking it really well.

3. Push back.

One of the major pitfalls of creating a character with a strong dialect is that it's all too easy to let that be their defining characteristic. The hillbilly idiot farmer who says "Well, shucks, y'all!" The cold, calculating Russian spy who drinks vodka like water and chops people's fingers off with a meat cleaver while saying "Puhjalista, tell your imperialist leader zis is vat I tink of his politics!" The gum-chewing black teenage girl in a velour tracksuit and a necklace that spells LilHoney in gold letters going, "Shit, man, I ain't seen nothing! Whatcha tryin'-a say?"

These are cardboard cut-outs. These are tropes at best, and downright offensive at worst. Yes, there are patterns in how people talk-- but each person is a complex and multi-layered being, which is how your characters should be, too. Maybe your farmer chews grass stalks and says "shucks," but maybe he's also a brilliant particle physicist who is doing particle physics-y stuff in his barn. (I was going to come up with something smarter-sounding, but I haven't got a clue what particle physicists do, and if I fall down another Google rabbithole this post will never go up.) Maybe your Russian assassin is angry because he has a deep, hidden love for the CIA agent he's torturing, but to show any mercy would mean instant death for them both. Maybe Lil Honey is an undercover cop. 

Whatever it is, however you do it, make sure you're writing people, not stereotypes. Make it believable and surprising at the same time.

I know, I know. Easier said than done.

But shucks, y'all... you have to start somewhere.