Vision A Resource for Writers

You’ve likely been advised that “said” is perfectly adequate attribution for dialogue in novels and short stories, and you’ve probably heard that writers shouldn’t labor to find such synonyms as uttered, pronounced, responded, or retorted.  Substitutions for “said” can interrupt the story’s flow by causing the reader to hiccup mentally while trying to figure out how the synonyms pertain to the dialogue.  Your mentor may have told you they can be so awkward that they draw attention to themselves, and—worse—the synonyms can get downright hilarious, thereby demolishing a story’s (and the author’s) credibility.   

We writers, however, get a lot of sensible recommendations that sometimes don’t quite penetrate.  Perhaps because we have so many other, larger concerns when writing, we may ignore the “said” advice from time to time.

We shouldn’t.

Editors, contest judges, and teachers say they read many otherwise interesting stories, but the synonym syndrome—the dreaded S.S.—makes the pieces so unacceptable that a critical reader gives up after the second or third unwarranted synonym for “said.”

Those editors stop reading because the S.S. disease is a symptom of lazy and flabby writing or, worse, a misguided belief that highfalutin substitutions add color and pizzazz.  They don’t.  Prose with excessive substitutions for “said” dies far short of its potential, robbing readers—and the writer—of the chance for character development, narrative tension, and action.

With that, um, said, let’s examine the problem so you’ll know how to spot flaws in your own stories.

First, in the sidebar to the right we’ll look at an example of the “said” synonym gone berserk.  The citations are taken from an actual novel.  Honest!  I know you’ll think I must be making it up, but this really did get published.  No, not a vanity press.  A real, honest-to-god publishing house.  Amazing.   

After looking at those quotations, we’ll turn to basic guidelines for “said.”

“SOME BASIC GUIDELINES,” HE OFFERED.

What are we to make of those examples?  What can we conclude about our own writing?

·        First, remember that “said” is invisible.

Likely you’ve read detective stories about a mysterious killer who dresses like a meter reader or someone delivering the mail to get access to the victim despite the presence of bodyguards.  In such a familiar costume, the killer’s comings and goings just aren’t noticed.  Familiarity breeds acceptance. 

That’s the way “said” works in dialogue:  The reader simply doesn’t notice the word.  This loyal worker does its job neatly, efficiently, quietly.  Like a good actor, the invisible “said” supports the primary lead but never calls attention to itself.  Synonyms, however, are like a circus clown with an outlandish red nose, screaming for attention.  Upstaging the lead is no virtue.

An excellent rule of thumb is simple:  Use “said” unless there’s a powerful demand for a synonym.

· Attribution of quotations isn’t necessary if the sense is clear.

If you’re worrying that you’re using “said” too often, instead of seeking synonyms ask yourself if the sense would be clear, and the rhythm improved, without attribution.  One identification of the character in the section usually is adequate.  Here’s an example:

John smiled at Beth as he picked up the newspaper and folded it in quarters, never taking his eyes from her face, smiling and smiling, until he had the paper in a small bundle.  He pointed to the column on top of the packet.  “Ann Landers printed my letter.”

Beth frowned, squinting at him.  “Say what?”

“And she made a most interesting observation about you.”

“I can’t believe that you actually wrote. . . .”

“Yup.  She calls you a ‘psychological deviate.”  Want to hear it?”

“No.”

“You should.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m thinking of having this laminated and framed.  Put it up on the bedroom wall over your pillow.  Let me read it to you.”

“I’m warning you, buddy. . . .”

In the above example, insert “said” or synonyms (“he threatened ominously” or “Beth uttered despondently”) and see if you actually need them.  After all, do you have any problem knowing who’s speaking?  If the sense is clear, you don’t need “said.” 

·        Using substitutions for “said” encourages you to tell, instead of show.

That’s an unhappy choice.
Let’s look at an innocuous line for an example.  Assume the character is leaving the room.  “I’m leaving,” Will said.  The line is moderately effective but it doesn’t have much juice.  So the writer decides to jazz it up with synonyms and typographical devices:

“I’m going,” Will observed angrily.

“I’m going!!” Will commented warmly.

“I’m going?” Will pronounced happily.

“I am going,” Will uttered sarcastically.

These are convenient devices for the writer, but they aren’t effective.  The “said” substitutions stop the writer from writing dialogue that shows the character acting angrily, warmly, happily, or sarcastically.  Better, for example, might be something like this for “observed angrily:”

Will threw the book on the coffee table.  It skittered across the marble top, knocking the vase off on the floor.  The glass shards flew over the carpet.  “Damn it, I’ve had it!”  He went to the door quickly, shoving her out of the way.  “I’m going!”

Showing, instead of telling, can be more effective.

·        The synonym syndrome begets other bad writing habits.

Once a writer accepts the idea of substituting words for “said,” then more and more synonyms slither in.  Then we’ll see something like this:

John got into the car.  “Goodbye, Sally,” he commented wryly.  He stepped on the gas.  The four-wheeled conveyance roared down the street.

A penchant for synonyms leads to all sorts of awkwardness.  What’s wrong with repeating the simple, invisible “car”? 

“THEN THERE ARE THE TOM SWIFTIES,” HE SAID SPEEDILY.

You know the famous Tom Swifties—a sentence where a description of the manner of saying refers punningly to quoted matter.  “I commanded a group of ships for a week,” Tom said fleetingly.  “I really love hot dogs,” said Tom frankly.  “Drop your gun!” said Tom disarmingly.  “I'll never put my hand in the lion's den again,” said Tom offhandedly.  “I bought Boardwalk early in the game,” Tom said, monopolizing the conversation.

The Tom Swifties are derived from the series of boyhood adventure books developed by Edward Stratemeyer, who also was involved in other series like the Hardy Boys, the Rover Boys, the Bobbsey Twins, and Nancy Drew—so many books that he set up a syndicate of ghost writers to grind out books according to his specifications.  The Tom Swift books’ title page credited Victor Appleton, Jr.  While the Tom Swift books don’t have puns like those above, the characters only rarely simply “say” something.  Instead, the dialogue is full of attributions like angrily, dejectedly, with enthusiasm, and so forth.

So Stratemeyer-Appleton are known not for their books but for the resulting Swifties.

Surely that’s reason enough to avoid the “said substitution syndrome”!  None of us want fame at that cost!

“ALL’S SAID AND DONE,” HE PRONOUNCED WITH FINALITY.

As these examples show, “said” is a fine, utilitarian, perfectly expressive word.  For the reader, “said” blends into the woodwork of the story, barely noticeable.  That’s in sharp contrast to the synonyms’ brilliant purple that hurt the eye and boggle the imagination.

For the writer, using “said” saves energy.  Instead of wasting creativity on developing synonyms that try to tell what the characters are thinking, we can divert that energy to improving the process of showing.

Eliminating excessive “saids” and those synonyms can begin in either the initial stage of creation, or when you return to your work for editing.  Either way, I think you’ll find that proper “said” use is like a tiny key opening a massive door.  It forces you to write with more force, description, and accuracy.

“And that’s the end of that,” he concluded with finality. 

_______________

Louis E. Catron (http://faculty.wm.edu/lecatr/) is a prize-winning professor at the College of William and Mary where he teaches highly regarded writing courses.  He’s an author of plays and articles, as well as such books as The Elements of Playwriting (Macmillan), Playwriting:  Writing, Producing, and Selling Your Play (Waveland Press), and The Power of One:  The Solo Play for Playwrights, Actors, and Directors (Heinemann).  He has published articles in magazines such as The Writer and Writer’s Digest.