A Dozen Solutions to the “Dialogue Tag”
By Barbara Linn Probst | November 17, 2021 |
Novels are full of conversations. As in “real life,” fictional characters speak with various intonations, emphases, and purposes. Their words might be accompanied by gestures, facial expressions, emotional reactions, or interior reflections—helping the reader “know” what the words mean.
As writers, we can convey those crucial details—the keys to meaning—in numerous ways. But it’s tricky. We want to be clear without being predictable, evocative without being obscure—to help the reader follow who is speaking and how.
In other eras, that was accomplished by verbs and adverbs. People didn’t just speak; they screamed, snarled, muttered, and moaned. Nowadays, though, the neutral said is preferred. We’re also advised to avoid pairing said with adverbs like sincerely, bitterly, heavily, etc.—a style that’s gone out of fashion. (For fun, see the examples in this piece about “Tom Swifties” that parody the overuse of adverbs in dialogue.)
If we follow this advice and confine ourselves (mostly) to the generic and unadorned said, we’re left with the challenge of how to convey the emotional quality of a line of dialogue. What other ways are left to us, without those high-drama verbs and nineteenth-century adverbs?
Enter the dialogue tag—an extra phrase that precedes or follows an utterance. With a sigh. Lifting an eyebrow. Her voice growing shrill. There’s nothing wrong with adding a bit of clarification and enhancement! However, like all techniques, these dialogue tags need to be used strategically. Having struggled with this, I asked myself two questions that I’d like to explore here:
- When, how, and why can we use dialogue tags effectively?
- Are there other ways, instead of embellishing a vocalized statement, to accomplish the same goal?
Let’s take a fictitious story-moment and look at a dozen different ways to show what it means to the protagonist.
Here’s the scenario: Ellen, our POV character, has just been let-down by her friend Jessie. At the last minute, Jessie has reneged on a promise to meet Ellen for lunch during her layover in Seattle, something that Ellen was looking forward to. Although it’s hardly a life-or-death matter, Ellen is angry and hurt. It isn’t the first—or second—time that Jessie has done something like this; Jessie’s casual sorry in response to her just confirming makes Ellen feel devalued and dismissed, yet she keeps believing that Jessie will keep her word because they’ve known each other since adolescence and, she thought, have a deep connection.
The scene takes place at the Seattle Airport. Ellen has phoned Jessie, who’s just delivered the bad news. Your goal, as the writer, is to make the reader see, believe, and empathize with Ellen’s response.
You can sabotage that goal by doing too much—if you over-write by saying the same thing two or three times (in different ways) or resort to melodrama. Either way, you’re bombarding the reader, throwing too much at her instead of beckoning her into the scene.
You can also undermine your goal by doing too little—if you gloss over the moment and miss the chance to bring Ellen’s feelings to life.
And you can spoil the effect by doing the same thing in every scene, to the exclusion of other techniques. Skillful writing has economy, variety, and intention.
FIRST, let’s look at some strategies that include a line of dialogue.
Use an evocative verb instead of “said”
“Actually, it’s not okay,” Ellen snapped.
The verb snapped is economical, conveying a tone of voice and the emotion behind it in a single word. Although said is still considered the “talking verb” of choice, strong verbs can be effective if used sparingly and strategically.
Use a tag that shows how the comment was delivered
“Actually,” Ellen said, her voice cold, “it’s not okay.”
“Actually,” Ellen said. She dropped the words like chips of ice into a bowl. “Actually, it’s not okay.”
Here, the generic said is accompanied by a phrase that tells the reader how the comment is uttered. It’s another way of doing what adverbs used to do.
Use a tag that shows the speaker’s facial expression
Ellen’s smile disappeared. “Actually,” she said, “it’s not okay.
The reader can see Ellen’s face and, from that, know what she’s feeling and intuit how her words sound.
Use a tag that shows the speaker’s gesture or movement
Ellen pulled in her breath and shifted the phone to her other hand. “Actually,” she said, “it’s not okay.”
The tag describes what else Ellen is doing before or as she speaks. Instead of telling the reader how she is speaking, the phrase adds to the overall impression by bringing in another sense, beyond the auditory.
NOW, let’s eliminate the line of dialogue and show what the spoken words might have conveyed, but through other strategies.
Interior reflection: thought, talking to oneself about what just happened
This was exactly the sort of thing that Jessie always did. Damn it, why did she always get taken in by promises that Jessie never meant to keep?
This is the voice of the POV character, talking to herself, as if she were another person. This kind of interiority has gotten a bad reputation lately (“in her head”), but there’s nothing wrong with it. It will misfire, however, if it goes on too long, is employed too frequently, or is used as an all-too-obvious ploy to convey information that the author wants the reader to know.
Put yourself in Ellen’s shoes. In the middle of an intense emotional reaction, would you really tell yourself a detailed story about something you already know? Of course not! However, if that anecdote has already appeared in the book, then a quick reference to it, in the present scene, can be very effective. In the example above, Ellen is remembering a pattern. Words like “always get taken in” will evoke that pattern in the reader too.
Used judiciously, this can also be a place for the POV character to worry about something that might happen in the future.
This was exactly the sort of thing Jessie always did. What if she pulled that disappearing stunt again at the meeting with Lionel, when she really needed Jessie to come through for her?
Interior reaction: emotions
Damn it. That woman made her blood boil. She wanted to reach through the cell phone and grab Jessie by her shoulders, right in the middle of her shrug, and scream into her smug little face.
This kind of blow-by-blow emotional accompaniment to the narrative is associated with what’s called “close third-person POV.” Overt rather than subtle, it’s meant to pull the reader deep inside the experience. For me, a little goes a long way. Used endlessly, it feels like I’m being assaulted and told what to feel. It’s most effective—again, in my opinion— when saved for climactic moments and interspersed with techniques that give the reader more space.
Visceral sensation: body
Ellen felt her stomach twist.
The fist in her stomach twisted another forty-five degrees.
Instead of being named or described, the reaction is evoked through a bodily sensation that readers can recognize. The reader will make the connection; the author doesn’t have to tell her to.
In the first example, Ellen is the subject of the sentence. In the second, the fist itself is the subject. As with other techniques, the challenge is to use visceral examples that are common enough to be understandable, but not trite.
Evocative gesture
Ellen lifted a strand of hair from her cheek and placed it carefully behind her ear.
Here, nothing is said. Instead, gesture is used to show how Ellen is feeling. Presumably, by this point in the story the reader will know what “adjusting a strand of hair” means for her, especially if it’s a characteristic gesture—if it’s her way of buying time, feeling in control by putting things in their proper places, self-soothing, etc.
Movement or external action
Ellen crossed the boarding area in three quick strides and banged her palm against the wall.
This strategy differs from the use of gesture because it puts the POV into interaction with her environment. As a result, something (or someone) outside of herself may be affected, and additional events may be set in motion.
“Pulling away” for an external description, through the lens of the narrator
The airport corridor was filled with people hurrying to and from the gates, dragging suitcases or holding cups of coffee aloft. Ellen stopped, the phone still pressed to her cheek, as people stepped around her in surges of color and movement. She was the only person not moving, the only one with nowhere to go.
We’ve pulled back, away from Ellen’s close POV, and can see her in the airport after Jessie has delivered the unexpected news. We’re not inside her thoughts or emotions, yet we can “see” very clearly how she feels.
Anthropomorphized or passive-voice telling, through a metaphor or simile
Anger snatched her up with a swipe of its claw, the way her cat snatched at an unsuspecting mouse.
Anger surged through her.
Here, the emotion, not Ellen, is the subject of the sentence. Used strategically, this can be very effective because it draws the reader right inside the emotion itself
Direct telling.
Ellen was livid.
Short and sweet, this can be all you need. It can also serve as a lead-in to an action or conversation.
A dozen ways to convey the same story-moment. Used with intention and spaced well-apart, all are good.
A useful exercise is to go through a few chapters of your WIP to see when, and how often, you’ve used each technique, since we all have habits and preferences. There may even be some that you never use! If you’re working on a laptop, you can highlight instances of each technique in a different color font; on paper, you can circle them with a different colored pen.
If you suspect that you need variety, think about which approach might be most effective at a particular moment. Here are some questions to ask yourself:
- Is this a moment for economy or for lingering? Will economy short-change the reader’s experience? Will lingering interrupt the flow of the story?
- Is this a moment when we want to see the character and her reaction in a larger context—how it’s part of the chain of her life, or how it’s embedded in a particular time and place?
- Is this an important turning point in her emotional journey? If so, it might call for some interior reflection.
- Is this a shock or a moment of high intensity? If so, how can you pull the reader into the character’s sensations and body, as well as her emotions?
- Does the reader need some space, a chance to have her own response, after several intense and immersive scenes?
As a writer, do you tend to use one or more of the techniques listed? Is there a technique that you never use, but now you might? As a reader, is there a device that you especially like?
[coffee]
Barbara (she/her) is an author of contemporary women’s fiction living on an historic dirt road in New York’s Hudson Valley. Each of her acclaimed novels (Queen of the Owls, 2020; The Sound Between the Notes, 2021; and The Color of Ice, 2022) was a medalist for prestigious national awards, including the Sarton Award for Contemporary Fiction, the Independent Book Publishers Award, the Hawthorne Prize, and the Nautilus Award for Fiction. Her fourth novel, Roll the Sun Across the Sky, launches in May 2025 and has received stellar advance praise. Barbara has also published more than 80 articles on the craft of writing and the writing life. She has a PhD in Clinical Social Work and has been a therapist, teacher, researcher, and advocate for out-of-the-box kids and their families. When not writing, she’s a serious amateur pianist and a traveler to spots from Iceland to the Himalayas. Learn more on her website .
Thank you, Barbara, for a truly useful reminder on the importance of choosing our words, or in this case techniques, wisely! You have given us a succinct tool that I have printed for future use, something I rarely do with blog posts. Now, I’m off to check my own WIP following your guide!
I’m so happy that you found my post meaningful and have saved it for future use! Knowing that I’ve offered something that others can actually USE makes it all worthwhile! Thank you so much for your kind comment!
Thanks so much for this post. Now I feel free, somewhat, to try some of your suggestions. You see, I’ve been brainwashed into believing that “said” was the only acceptable dialogue tag.
Aha! The idea that there is only one “acceptable “anything in writing is a red flag to me! It’s all about what is most effective at a particular moment :-) Happy rule-breaking!
Thanks for pulling together this overview of dialogue tag options, Barbara! It can be super tricky to know what will work best to serve the story & reader. For middle grade readers (my intended audience), I turn mostly to direct telling, interior reaction and evocative verbs. For more sophisticated readers, nuanced options of using gestures, etc. are probably preferred because they invite more active interpretation by the reader. I’m definitely filing this one away for future reference!
A wonderful contribution to the discussion, Suzanne! I also think, even with work aimed at an adult audience, there are scenes where direct “telling” is called for, in order to keep the pace moving, and other scenes where something more evocative and indirect is better, in order to give space for the reader to enter—just as you say! Thank you!
Hi Barbara,
Thanks for all these ideas and reminders of how to handle dialogue tags. This is not a dialogue tag example but I also like to avoid “said” by using repetition within the dialogue itself. I think this works when you’ve already established the back and forth conversation between the two speakers:
“Actually, it’s not okay. I’m your friend. Remember, you have a friend?”
Thanks so much for this post.
Absolutely! When there is a turn-taking conversation between two speakers, the reader doesn’t need a reminder about who is talking, every single time —although a “tag” can also serve to enhance what is said, and how. That is. sometimes a phrase is useful for keeping track of WHO is speaking, and sometimes it’s useful for clarifying or vivifying HOW the person is speaking. So glad you liked the post! Thank you!
Wow, Barbara! This is a master class on tags. Thank you. I’ll be linking this to my baby class on dialogue.
Wow, Barbara! This is a master class on tags. Thank you. I’ll be linking this to my baby class on dialogue.
Thanks, Vijaya! I’m so glad that the post will continue to have a life and use!!
Thank you, Barbara. It seems every workshop I teach, regardless of level, deals with this issue, and the techniques you provide here are invaluable — so much so I shared the link with my Litreactor students just now (as well as the link to all your other excellent posts). You have done us all in the teaching biz an invaluable service.
I notice, however, that you conspicuously avoid the issue of adverbs used with speech tags. I have attended conferences where American writers, genuflecting before the altars of Ernest Hemingway and Elmore Leonard, basically make the point that adverbs cause cancer — to which their UK/Irish colleagues look on with mouths agape. David Hewsom things this adverb-aversion is a uniquely American fetish. Denise Mina simply remarked, in her inimitable Glasgow brogue, “I’d like to stand up for adverbs.”
I typically tell students that, like “colorful” speech-related verbs (“snapped” being your example), adverbs are best used sparingly if at all, and work best when they convey something the dialogue IN CONTEXT itself does. That means you need to both examine not just the spoken words themselves but the social, personal, and emotional environment in which they occur. The problem with colorful speech tags and adverbial descriptors is that they often are a sign of lazy or poor execution of the dialogue itself. Examples I use:
“I love you,” she said bitterly.
“Mother’s arrived,” she said joylessly.
Note that it’s impossible to know whether those adverbs are really necessary without knowing what else is going on and especially what just happened.
General rule: never does the dictum “Less is more” serve a writer’s purposes well than in the realm of speech tags.
Finally, one last use of adverbs I learned from Tobias Woolf. His example: “There’s a bear outside,” he said intently. Mine: “Resume the crucifixion,” he said crossly.
Very helpful! Thanks so much.
Thank you so much, Dave! I’m so happy to know that you have shared my posts with your students :-)
As for the dreaded adverb (and now I can’t stop thinking about your last hilarious example) …
I do think it’s hard for us to get away with using adverbs, although “writing fashions” change, the same way that hemlines and facial hair vary with the times, so perhaps they’ll come back in vogue one of these days. In my own work, I confess to a fondness for having people reply softly or quietly, though I try not to overdo it. Sometimes I get around it by using the tag-like sentence: “Her voice was soft.” But I have to be vigilant about that too, and check for overuse of the word “voice.” Ugh. There are no perfect solutions! The best principles, I’ve concluded, are: economy, variety, context, and effectiveness. Thank you, again, for adding to the conversation!
Speech tags and “colorful” verbs that refer to the volume of what’s been said work best exactly as you use them — at the lower end of the spectrum: softly, quietly, whispered. I would argue, though, against “hissed,” something that lends a comic book element, and I’m seldom won over by “moaned” or “groaned.” Also, “sighed” is not a speech tag, imho, though it’s not a hill I’d die on. I prefer “said with a sigh,” as to me it’s actually simpler and truer to the actual action (and then only worth using once or at best twice in an entire novel-length MS). Finally, “laughed” is not a speech tag. I tell my students: Have you ever tried to talk and laugh at the same time? There’s a word for it: coughing.
You sum it up best in your remark above: “The best principles, I’ve concluded, are: economy, variety, context, and effectiveness.” Even some of the non-speech-tag techniques you describe in your post can become off-putting if overused or simply mishandled. But by giving us all so many different approaches, you’ve really provided an incredible resource. Great job.
My point, exactly! We have options. Sometimes one works best—for a particular character, scene, purpose—and sometimes another. Or none, simply the unadorned line of speech (Don’s point). Writing is like any craft, that way: the more tools you know how to use, the more precise you can be.
I think each of us benefits, also, from knowing which kinds of tags we tend to overuse and making sure that each use of that darling is really necessary and earned. One more principle: when in doubt, delete.
Thanks again for such a great conversation, Dave!
Short and sweet here, because that’s all I need to convey that I love this post, Barbara. (Also: There’s a puppy in the house, so you find me an extra minute. ;-) ) Thank you!
Excellent post. In my book on writing craft, I talk about dialogue “beats” using action, description, and internal monologue in the ways you talk about tags. For me, something like “She smiled.” isn’t a tag but a beat. In the book I give an example of an exchange that has 17 lines of dialogue that use no tags but are fleshed out with beats. I think we’re talking about the same thing, and it’s a technique that adds meaning and nuance to dialogue. Well done.
Thanks so much for your kind words, Ray, and for this helpful point,! I agree that a “beat” is a distinct action or movement. It can be a gesture, an utterance, an exit or entrance of a character, etc. Something takes place. A “tag,” on the other hand, tells us more about whatever it is that happened, makes it more specific. I suppose that the proportion, rhythm, and placement of each helps to define our writer-ly voices :-)
In a sense, this is not about tags. It’s about what to do in addition to using the standard tag of “said.” You’ll notice that most of Barbara’s examples include the “said” somewhere in there. And I’m in favor of that. With apologies to the UK writers David mentioned, I think adverbs and verbs as tags seldom offer real information about the speaker’s state of mind. Barbara’s post has reminded me of several ways to put that information on the page.
Thanks, Michael. And yes, I have no objection to the word “said.” It tends to be invisible, which can be a good thing. I would also add that using two or three tags on a single line of dialogue is a mark of insecurity :-)
I’m going to dissent. Facial expressions, gestures, movement, visceral sensations, and churning thoughts and feelings and so on, for me, do nothing whatsoever to enhance, enliven or improve dialogue. I skim over them. Always.
I do agree that “he said” or “she said” or (now) “they said” used as tags are plain vanilla. Over time, they pall. Yet what is gained with fancier tags? Most often they are empty calories adding to word count without building muscle. A lifted eyebrow, I’m sorry, is not laden with gigantic symbolic significance. It’s not. And those inner thoughts and feelings are almost always what I, as reader, have already and instantly felt because of what is being said. They are mostly variations of, “Oh no, what did he mean?” Which, frankly, I can wonder for myself.
It’s elementary to say, but the primary purpose of dialogue tags is to help us keep track of who is speaking. I’m not against mixing flavors with a little strawberry once in a while, but I recommend moderation. The best idea, ask me, is to make forceful, clear and revealing what is actually between quotation marks. For instance, if one character wishes to convey disapproval or dislike of another, or what someone else has said, there are many ways to express that which do not require help:
“I’m not sure I can agree.”
“Of course you would say that.”
“Typical male.”
“Go along with that? Ha! In your dreams.”
“Say that again and you won’t see sundown, asshole.”
“Fuck you, burn in hell.”
Any tags needed? Granted, not all dialogue punches like Sam Shepard or zings like Neil Simon, but before tapping out two or twenty-five words of dialogue tag, it’s worth asking whether the dialogue itself could do the work of invoking mood, meaning, attitude, intention, or unspoken anything. He said.
I love dissent! But I hope I didn’t give the impression that dialogue tags should be used constantly, or even most of the time! For sure, none of these examples is meant to do what a line of dialogue could do better.
My purpose in offering this post was to give a range of options—to expand the possibilities—so that when a tag IS indicated, it will be economical and evocative. IMHO, power in writing comes when our words deliver a maximum of meaning and impact. Sometimes that’s accomplished by using as few words as possible, but not always. It depends on mood, voice, context. It would be just as silly to insist on unadorned dialogue on all occasions as it would be to advocate for the incessant use of qualifiers and descriptors. As the sages tell us about most things: it depends.
That said, your dissent is always welcome, Don!
Indeed, Don, as long as we don’t end up with half a page—or more—of unattributed dialogue that forces the reader to stop and backtrack and actually count lines to determine who is saying what. I have seen that all too often in well-reviewed books. This makes the dialogue itself carry all the load, no? I think that’s your point.
I have had to do that too, when reading! Another reason to insert—strategically—a phrase that can ground the reader in the back-and-forth of the conversation while also enlivening the moment by bringing in onther sense, like a visual detail. That is: a twofer!
Yes, exactly. Moderation. Disappointing, but once again it seems we’re all in general agreement!
I remember my first day in the PhD program at Fordham University when the director greeted us with these words: “Welcome to a disputatious community of truth-seekers.”
From dissention comes a richer, livelier, more nuanced truth :-)
Awesome post. Thanks, Barbara. Your review underlines the stylistic rules I try to follow, but your reminders are so appreciated.
Thank you, Barbara, for these useful examples. How to handle the dialogue tennis match is truly demanding, all the time.
Unless I failed to notice, you don’t include using a tone of sarcasm. It has to fit the moment and the character, but having the offended party say, “Actually, Jessie, it’s not okay [okay in italics]” or, more more intensively, “Actually, Jessie, it’s not at all okay[okay in italics]” serves in place of adverbs, etc. Repeating Jessie’s name also adds to underscore Ellen’s state of mind. Of course it’s superfluous–the two know each other–but doing this serves to distance the offended party from her friend.
Well said, Barry, and thank you! In fact, I think sarcasm or irony can be conveyed without having to add the italics. If the dialogue is flowing well, the reader will supply the tone of voice as she reads—she’ll hear it, naturally. Otherwise, italics, like adverbs, can be just another way of telling people what to feel because we don’t trust our writing enough.
This is, in fact, a topic of great interest to me because I used to overuse italics endlessly and have had to work hard to stop doing that. But as you point out, there are other strategies that can achieve the same effect, like repeating the person’s name when both know very well who Ellen is speaking to!
I know what you mean about a writer’s insecurity being registered by too much use of italics, but in this instance, I think the element of sarcasm rather than seriousness is the issue. No italics = serious, italics = sarcasm.
I always love good illustrative examples! Thank you.
Great post, Barbara. As you pointed out, not all moments are equal or deserve the same amount of effort on the writer’s part or attention on the reader’s. I think limiting use of tags is a sign of the writer’s confidence in her writing and her respect for her readers. In your particular example, I might have Ellen notice one or two details that subtly, obliquely reflect her feeling — an annoying, whining child, say, or a last call for boarding a flight.
Just so! You said it perfectly: “Limiting use of tags is a sign of the writer’s confidence in her writing and her respect for her readers.” When a tag IS indicated, we want to have a range of strategies at our disposal, so we can choose purposefully and not always done in the same old way, because that’s the only way we know. As I noted earlier, when in doubt, let the line of dialogue stand on its own.
Thank you for summing it up so well!