Sol Stein (born October 13, 1926 in Chicago) is the author of 13 books and was Publisher and Editor-in-Chief of Stein and Day Publishers for 27 years.
To create tension, dialogue needs to be stretched out. That is, characters should not be immediately responsive.
A lawyer's job is to manipulate the skeletons in other people's closets.
Readers take in dialogue one thought at a time. A frequent mistake of beginners is to combine thoughts, which may be suitable for other forms of writing but not for dialogue. Another mistake is speechifying. Three sentences at a time is tops, yet many beginners write speeches that go on and on.
Dialogue, contrary to popular view, is not a recording of actual speech; it is a semblance of speech, an invented language of exchanges that build in tempo or content toward climaxes.
In our not-yet-acknowledged secret garden lie the seeds of some of our best not-yet-written stories
Our instinct as human beings is to provide answers, to ease tension. As writers our job is the opposite, to create tension and not dispel it immediately.
A writer writes what other people only think.
Most of the time, tough, combative, adversarial dialogue is much more exciting than physical action.
The expert magician seeks to deceive the mind, rather than the eye.
A reader's emotions can be sparked with few words. That's the power of dialogue.
I see manuscripts and books that are spoiled for the literary reader because they are one long stream of top-of-the-head writing, a writer telling a story without concern for precision or freshness in the use of language. Some of this storytelling reads as if it were spoken rather than written, stuffed with tired images that pop into the writer's head because they are so familiar. The top of the head is fit for growing hair, but not for generating fine prose.
Readers, transformed by film and TV, are used to seeing stories. The reading experience. . . is increasingly visual.
Dialogue is a lean language in which every word counts.
The biggest difference between a writer and a would-be writer is their attitude toward rewriting. . . . Unwillingness to revise usually signals an amateur.