Beyond dialogue: other tools to make your characters’ inner worlds come to life
Stories are conversations. But they’re also whispers in the dark, unspoken anxieties, and the deafening silence after a bombshell. The greatest narratives understand that the true power of storytelling lies not just in what characters say, but in the rich inner world they inhabit and the spaces between spoken words. Let’s dive into three powerful tools that go beyond dialogue to create a more immersive and impactful reading experience.
Internal monologues
Internal monologues are the unsung heroes of storytelling. They allow us to burrow into the psyche of characters. Experiencing their thoughts, feelings, and motivations in real-time. Like the thrill of vicariously participating in a bank heist through the protagonist’s racing mind in Elmore Leonard’s Rum Punch. Every decision feels frenetic and life-or-death. Or the quiet despair of Jane in Charlotte Brontë’s classic Jane Eyre. Her internal monologue reveals the emotional toll of her restricted life at Thornfield Hall:
“My heart beat against my ribs with a painful impulsion. The whole scene swam before my eyes; the air felt suffocating.”
Internal monologues can be woven into the narrative seamlessly through free indirect discourse. This technique creates a sense of intimacy. It’s like eavesdropping on a character’s inner monologue. In J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, Holden Caulfield’s voice permeates the story:
“What I really need is a good laugh. People always think it’s awful to be bored when you’re supposed to be doing something you don’t want to do. But I don’t think it is. It’s just awful.”
Alternatively, stream-of-consciousness can capture the raw, unfiltered flow of thoughts. This replicates the way our minds jump from one idea to another. Virginia Woolf masterfully uses this technique in Mrs. Dalloway to portray Clarissa’s anxieties as she prepares for a party:
‘For thousands of years they had sung to her of lovers and murderers and heroism of every kind… Had she perhaps mistaken the nature of life?’
This is also a good example of how you don’t always have to use the first person to connect the audience with your character. By using stream-of-consciousness in the third person, you get the best of both worlds. You can distance or bring us closer as you please.
Epistolary narratives
Epistolary novels tell a story entirely through letters, emails, diaries, or any form of written correspondence. This approach creates a unique intimacy. It allows readers to understand characters through their own words. It pieces together the story and their relationships based on what they choose to reveal (or omit) in their writing.
One benefit of the epistolary form is multiple perspectives. Different characters’ letters offer various viewpoints, creating a richer view of the story. Take Dracula by Bram Stoker. This is one of the greatest examples of mastering an epistolary narrative. Letters, diary entries, and telegrams from multiple characters like Jonathan Harker, Mina Murray, and Dr. Van Helsing paint a chilling picture of Dracula’s arrival in England.
It’s a great example of “show, don’t tell”, too – through Jonathan’s journals, we see how amazed he is by paprika chicken on his travels. He says he “must” get the recipe for Mina to enjoy it at home. The impact of this simple spice says something of his limited experience in the world and foreshadows how this naïveté plays out in the novel.
Using silence and subtext
Silence is often underestimated in storytelling. It can be a potent tool to convey a range of emotions. From unspoken tension to deep contemplation. A character refusing to answer a question can speak volumes. Are they guilty? Fearful? A noticeable pause before a confession can heighten anticipation.
You can use it effectively by using body language. Combine the character’s silence with physical descriptions. Perhaps they fidget or look away. Their jaw could tighten. Maybe they’re even sweating. This can reveal their inner turmoil more effectively than words. It also more realistically portrays how this plays out in real life. In Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, Scout describes the chilling silence in the courtroom:
‘The silence that followed his last words was pregnant. Then a little murmur arose from the balcony.’
Describing the silence as ‘pregnant’ gives it a lot of weight. The silence is filled with suggestion.
What do these examples teach us?
These tools are not meant to exist in isolation. The most powerful narratives use a combination of techniques. Weave internal monologues, epistolary narratives, and the power of silence into the dialogue to create an immersive experience.
The key lies in finding the right balance. A well-placed internal monologue can illuminate a character’s turning point. But a strategically employed silence can heighten tension or create space for reflection. Similarly, epistolary narratives can offer a unique glimpse into a character’s psyche and motivations. Dialogue allows for real-time interaction and emotional exchange.
Ultimately, the beauty of these techniques lies in their ability to engage the reader more actively. Internal monologues invite us to step inside a character’s mind, fostering empathy and understanding. Epistolary narratives turn us into detectives, piecing together the story and characters’ true feelings from their written word. Silence compels us to pause, contemplate, and fill in the gaps with our own imagination.
By venturing beyond dialogue, authors create space for a richer and more nuanced reading experience. We become not just passive observers, but participants in the story. We are interpreting the characters’ inner world and the spaces between their spoken words. Pay attention not just to what the characters say, but what they don’t.
