Writing Cromulent Dialogue
By David Corbett | January 13, 2023 |
In the never-ending quest for snappy repartee in our fiction, we often overlook the ways in which our own personal exchanges with friends and family members provide us with creative language we can use (i.e., steal) for our stories.
Using idioms to freshen up dialogue is hardly a revolutionary idea. But many idioms have become so commonly and widely used they amount to clichés: Look what the cat dragged in. Better get cracking. Gotta keep the wolf from the door. [If you’re looking for a source for such expressions, trite and not so trite, check out this idiom dictionary.]
The problem with some of our personal sayings is that they are so dependent on a unique context connected to our own experience that they’ll likely require at least some explanation for the reader to understand what’s being said (let alone why). And as we all know, explanation can be deadly.
That said, this problem isn’t insurmountable—you just need to select the expressions that require the least explanation—or come up with your own. Just as you and others have created these expressions from experience, so too can your characters.
As an example, in my most recent novel two friends have created a game where they make up names for dwarves who “didn’t make the cut” for Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves: Salty. Slimy. Punchy. Stuck. (My wife and I now, whenever we find ourselves using some particularly vivid adjective, will typically remark, “There’s another one that didn’t make it.”)
As the idea for this post began matriculating in my mind, I began to pay more attention to all the little sayings my wife, my friends, my family and mere acquaintances bandy about in the course of any given day. It dawned on me that maybe I was overlooking a rich source of material staring me in the face.
The fact that these expressions are rooted in day-to-day experience with someone else means that, if we’re going to try to create such expressions from scratch, we’ll have to imagine deeply such a quotidian existence for our characters. That can be laborious—all the more reason to pilfer from one’s own life.
With that in mind, I thought I’d run off some of the expressions I wrote down as they either came up in conversation or arose in memory.
Marital Maxims
I doubt any of you who are married or in a long-term relationship don’t have buzzwords, witticisms, or other expressions developed in your life together. Given these catch phrases likely developed in unique situations, you will likely have to recreate such a situation between your characters to make the expression work.
Some examples:
Penguin Fight!
Said when my wife and I disagree on something not terribly serious, but we can’t reach an accord. One or the other will announce, “Penguin Fight!” and we will approach each other face-to-face, our arms pressed close to our sides—to mimic fins—and raucously slap each other’s arms. Any tension that might have arisen magically vanishes.
Hashtag: Goals
Said when one of us expresses an intent to finally get to an unpleasant task put off for too long. (Me: “I guess I’ll go out and clean the gutters before it rains again.” She: “Hashtag: Goals.”)
It’s in the vows
Said when one of us agrees to do something we’d prefer not to. (Me: “It’s freezing but, sure, I’ll go out and get more firewood.” She: “It’s in the vows.”)
I’m a delicate flower, my love
Said by my wife when she does something clumsy or unladylike—e.g., hammering some innocent nail into submission.
You/I married it
Said when one of us tells a particularly lame joke, makes a bad pun, or otherwise does or says something awkward, quirky, weird, or potentially embarrassing to the other. (She: “I’m going to get a selfie stick and take a long look at myself.” Me: (groans) “I married it.” She: “Yeah ya did.”)
Mistakes were made
Original source: Oliver North’s testimony concerning the Iran-Contra scandal. We say it whenever one of us is hungover or eats too much.
Mom Rules
A pun on John Le Carré’s “Moscow Rules,” from Smiley’s People. In this case, it refers to something my wife’s mom always said: That if there’s only one left of an item at the store, it means it’s popular and you should snatch it up before someone else buys it.
Don’t let them bamboozle you!
My Turkish father-in-law’s expression, who sometimes took caveat emptor to extremes. (And such a fun word to say: bamboozle.) Whenever our dog, Hamley, tricked us into something (like going outside just so he could turn around, come back in, and snooker us out of a treat), we said we’d been Hamboozled. Similarly, now with Fergus, he knows how to Ferboozle us. Sometimes one of us will say it when the other is going out to shop for something. She: “Okay, I’m heading out to buy dinner.” Me: “Don’t let them bamboozle you!”
Resting is the best thing
Speaking of my Turkish father-in-law, this was his remedy for virtually any ailment.
I am here!
Speaking of Turkey: this one arose from a visit to the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, a sprawling warren of merchant’s stalls. I was at an intersection and made the mistake of merely glancing down the path to my right. About fifty yards away, a merchant, standing in the middle of the pathway, made eye-contact, lifted his arms, and bellowed, “I am here!” We say this, in the same tone and accent as the merchant, whenever one of us needs to let the other know where we are. (As most married couples know, ninety percent of conjugal life consists of yelling to each other from separate rooms.)
When the house is finished, the man is finished
From Turkey to Norway, where my wife’s mom’s family resides. This is a tribute to the Norwegian ethos of building and renovating their own homes. It’s often an obsession with the men in particular, so much so that when there’s no longer anything to do, they tend to lose interest in life.
Yeah, yeah, that’s what she told him at the picnic
This was one of my late wife’s expressions, said when she didn’t believe you, or if someone’s promising something it’s doubtful they can deliver.
Got some medication you need to take?
From an old girlfriend, not a spouse. Said when she caught me glancing at my watch during a date.
Oh, Grandma
My maternal grandmother was raised on a farm in western Wisconsin. She had a number of earthy expressions rooted in that place and time that stick with me to this day.
Smell the honeysuckle!
Said during long drives whenever we encountered the scent of manure.
I’m gonna give you to the Rag Man!
Said when we were misbehaving. (I still have the terrifying mental image of the bedraggled old man with his horse-drawn cart waiting outside at the curb that always came to mind when she said this.)
What happened—loosen your hold to get a better grip and it got away from ya?
Said when someone conspicuously passed gas.
Regionalisms
Expressions rooted in a specific time and place don’t always translate well, and are probably the expressions most in need of explanation. Some examples:
One-Two-Three-Four-Five WHOOP Boing!
This is what Flippo the Clown said to introduce the next cartoon. He was the after-school TV babysitter for millions of kids in Columbus, Ohio when I was growing up. (He was also a tenor sax player with a three-man combo that played weekends at the Granville Inn; my best friend’s dad was his drummer.) I occasionally say this when I’m about to uncover some novel dish I’ve prepared or offer up some other surprise.
Chet Long
This was the name of a newscaster in Columbus. The local news always followed the national news so there was often a lot of repetition. If someone told you something you already knew, you’d reply, “Chet Long.”
Sure, Don or Did You Say Nine Cents?
Both expressions came from commercials for Giant Don, owner of a discount furniture warehouse in Columbus. If you bought a full dining room or bedroom set he’d throw in a sectional sofa for only nine cents, to which an off-camera voice would reply with either, “Sure, Don,” or “Did you say nine cents?” We would say this whenever someone said something we didn’t believe.
Cha-di-di-cha
Something I learned from another close friend’s younger sisters after the family moved to Cleveland. If someone’s putting on airs, acting snooty, or bragging about something you don’t find all that impressive: “Well, cha-di-di-cha,” often accompanied by a dismissive flutter of the hand.
From an Ex-Felon Friend
Joe Loya spent eight years in federal prison for bank robbery and wrote an exceptional memoir upon his release, The Man Who Outgrew His Prison Cell. We met during a creative writing session at San Quentin (he was an instructor, like me, not an inmate at that time). He had two expressions in particular that have stayed with me.
Don’t cough up a nut sack
Said when someone’s overreacting to something. (A British variant, “cough up a bollock,” was used in an episode during the second season on Slow Horses.)
I’m in there like swimwear
Said when he agreed to join in on some task.
I Heard It At The Movies
I’m often amazed at the number of times I hear someone using a line of dialogue from a film or a TV show in ordinary conversation: “Here’s looking at you, kid.” “I’m ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille.” “What we have here is a failure to communicate.” (Yeah, yeah, I know I’m dating myself with my examples.)
Here are some others my wife and I use routinely:
My sister, my daughter, my sister, my daughter (from Chinatown)
Said whenever we can’t decide between two items—e.g., on the menu.
Sooooo refreshing! (from Pride and Prejudice)
Said when something is, well, refreshing.
Oh, that’s the good stuff (from Good Will Hunting)
Said when one of us belches or in some other way risks grossing the other out.
Match me, Sydney (from The Sweet Smell of Success)
In the film, the imperious Burt Lancaster character is asking for a light from his groveling minion, played by Tony Curtis. We use this expression whenever we want the other to pass us something, e.g., “Gravy me, Sydney.”
Kirk Douglas, he die (from Queen of Hearts)
In the film, a family of Italian immigrants living in 1960s London is watching The Vikings on a tiny TV set. During the fight scene, when Tony Curtis’s character releases his falcon and it tears out the Kirk Douglas character’s eye, the grandmother doesn’t even bother to say, “Spoiler alert,” before blurting out in a heavy Italian accent, “Kirk Douglas, he die,” to which the rest of the family responds, “Grandma!” My wife and I use it whenever we can tell that a character (or the actor playing him) isn’t going to make it to the final credits: “Kevin Spacey, he die.”
Last but by no means least:
It’s a perfectly cromulent [insert noun] (from The Simpsons)
Allow me to quote Merriam-Webster:
Cromulent first appeared in the February 18, 1996 episode of The Simpsons called “Lisa the Iconoclast,” in what could be considered a throw-away line given during the opening credits. The schoolchildren of Springfield are watching a film about the founding father of Springfield, Jebediah Springfield. The film ends with Jebediah intoning, “A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man.” One teacher at the back of the room leans over to another and says that she’d never heard the word embiggen before she moved to Springfield. “I don’t know why,” the other teacher replies. “It’s a perfectly cromulent word.”
My wife and I use it whenever something is especially good. “What a perfectly cromulent hat, my love.”
The point of all this is to demonstrate how each of us has an entire repertoire of such idioms we likely aren’t using in our dialogue, prompting the question: Why not? As a number of my examples show, if an explanation is required it’s often quite brief. And even if it isn’t, we can imagine creating the scene that provides the context that makes the expression feel natural.
Either way, it’s a lost opportunity not to let these unique idiomatic expressions find a way into our dialogue.
What unique idioms do you and your family or friends commonly use? Have you used them in your fiction? If not, what’s keeping you?
David Corbett (he/him) is the author of seven novels: The Devil’s Redhead, Done for a Dime (a New York Times Notable Book), Blood of Paradise (nominated for numerous awards, including the Edgar, Do They Know I’m Running?, The Mercy of the Night, The Long-Lost Love Letters of Doc Holliday, and The Truth Against the World. He has also published the story collection Thirteen Confessions and the novella The Devil Prayed and Darkness Fell.
David’s short fiction and poetry have appeared in a broad array of magazines and anthologies, with pieces twice selected for Best American Mystery Stories.
His non-fiction has appeared in numerous venues, including the New York Times, San Francisco Chronicle, Narrative, Zyzzyva, MovieMaker, The Writer, and Writer’s Digest.
He has taught both online and in classroom settings through the UCLA Extension’s Writers’ Program, Book Passage, LitReactor, 826 Valencia, The Grotto in San Francisco, and at numerous writing conferences across the US, Canada, and Mexico. In January 2013 Penguin published his textbook on the craft of characterization, The Art of Character (“A writer’s bible that will lead to your character’s soul.” —Elizabeth Brundage), and Writer’s Digest published his follow-up, The Compass of Character, in October 2019.
What an entertaining post, David! This is a great reason to keep a notebook as a constant companion because while I’m sure I have many, when asked directly, I draw a blank.
One does spring to mind though. When he was little, my younger son could pout as if “lower lip thrusting” was an Olympic sport. To show he was being melodramatic, I’d pinch my thumb and forefinger together, reach toward his, and say in a goofy British accent, “Could I have a cup of tea from that lip?” Later, in my second marriage, this was shortened to, “Do you need a cup of tea, Dave” which meant, “Do you need a moment to rethink what you just said?”
And yes, I looked up “cromulant”…
I love that. Might steal it. “Cup of tea, my love?” It bears a family resemblance to, “Like a little cheese with that whine?”
BTW: As a writing lesson, you could easily use the tea expression without needing to rely on the childhood background:
(Husband makes unpleasant remark)
“Cup of tea with that, darling?”
“What?”
“Would you like to reconsider what you just said to me?”
That’s all the explanation you’d need–it comes across as interpersonal and interesting.
I used something of the sort in my latest novel:
(Georgie being unusually quiet.)
“One more pump, the well should draw water.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve something to say. Out with it.”
What fun you and your wife have! You’ve portrayed such a loving connection between the two of you through these phrases. Inspiring! I’ve used several of my family’s best lines in my writing but hadn’t thought of consistently keeping track of them until reading your joy-filled post. Thank you!
We aspire to be Nick and Nora Charles. “The couple that laughs together, lasts together” (And I didn’t think of writing them all down until this last month, so we’re in the same boat, you and I.)
My husband and his friends often say “smell ya later” instead of “see you later.” Or another way of saying goodbye, “I’m off like a prom dress.” (Not original to them, but I don’t remember where the sayings came from.)
I absolutely LOVE “I’m off like a prom dress.” My somewhat tasteless equivalent: “Let’s make like a baby and head out.”
OMG! I have to get a more interesting family.
I came by mine largely by accident, if that’s any consolation.
I agree that the south has a rich oral tradition in many ways, but even us culturally backward Midwesterners have been known to say “Rub some dirt on it.” It’s especially handy when someone is making more of something that hurts than seems objectively plausible.
Delightful! Growing up, there were four of us…two boys, me…and my mother. My father died early on. We became a tight-knit group, and from morning to night, our “language” held us together, much of it with laughter, and often with my mother as the reason for the “cromulent” dialogue. Your post, my memories underline how language is binding, and often full of teasing love. Basically, because WE GET IT and outsiders do not. That makes it perfectly special, and even now my brothers and I recover once again the love, the bond when using that language…yeah, Bill is bloody, blue-nose, bats in the belfry, Billy. (and yes, my mother made us two older one stop, for sometimes he cried)
Exactly, Elizabeth! Language is a bond, often a bond of love. And capturing that on the page is a great way to convey those bonds.
And if Billy has a GoFundMe for therapy, please let us know.
This was a fun read. These are great.
“Cat got your tongue?” (When someone is caught out and too embarrassed to speak.)
“Enjoy your time in the box.” (Said snidely by a hockey mom on my son’s team when a player on the opposing team gets a two minute penalty.)
“There goes Miss Beautiful.” (We had a celebrity neighbor in NYC, later a friend, who had to glam up for promotional events for her show.)
“And your little dog too!” (Wicked Witch of the West saying she will not only kill Dorothy.)
“Will it play in Sheboygan?” (Self explanatory.)
“He thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips too.” (Common Canadian barb about anyone with a high opinion of themselves.)
“So fun!” (Your post.)
I’m American, and I’ve heard “all that and a bag of chips,” though I think the phrase is out of fashion. I’ve never heard it as a barb–more like ironic, or sometimes self-deprecating. And when one of my nieces had a birthday–turned seven, I think–one of her friends gave her a baggie full of some loose potato chips and small crafts as a present. I asked my niece if she’d heard the expression “she’s all that and a bag of chips.” She hadn’t, so I explained and then said “well, that’s the bag of chips.”
“And a bag of chips, too.” Brilliant.
I’d not realized I’d written an idiom that might be a bit local, when my character said, “I don’t want her to live in the shallows.” My best friend, also a local river rat, knew exactly what I meant–don’t live a superficial life. My crit partners, one from the Lake Ontario area and one from Texas had no clue. Hopefully, I haven’t overkilled it in the rewrite!
Hi Lisa: I think any confusion could be easily overcome by context. If not, you can do what I suggest above with Kathryn–have another character unclear on what the speaker means so she has to clarify, or have the other character respond with something that extends the meaning, amplifies it, or provides nuance.
“I made enough to feed the Polish Army” said, mostly by my mother, to refer to accidentally making far more food than needed. Yes, I’ve used this one in my writing.
“I put it in a safe place” means the item is lost, probably forever.
“Razzafrasms” used when cursing like a Loony-Toons character would. “Grumble-mumble-razzafrasms-SPSTH” is the extended version.
“Doggages” = dogs
“Cattages” =cats
“You’re on DOUBLE-SECRET PROBATION!” said to a dog who has just done something very bad. It’s a reference to a movie my husband saw. I didn’t, but I use the phrase, too.
“The smalls” my mother’s term for my sister and her friends when they were little, as in “where are the smalls?” Later, the term got applied to my sister and her husband, though neither were very small anymore. I don’t know if my sister, who has since passed, ever knew of the phrase.
“Speriment” my mother’s phrase for a new dish she’s never made before and doesn’t know if it will taste good. Short for “it’s an experiment,” as in “Mom, what are you making?” “Speriment!”
I love all of these, Caroline, and can see them easily finding a way into your fiction. And with little or no explanation required.
Reminds me of some “plurals” my wife uses because her parents used them, both of whom learned English as a second language: Shrimps, fishes, luggages. (The last one came to mind with “doggages,” which I fully intend to use now with Fergus.)
My younger brother and I often quote movie and TV dialogue to each other, depending on the situation. When referring to a confusing or silly situation,. we’ll say, “It’s The Boogens” in reference to an old horror film we’re fairly certain hardly anyone but us knows about. We don’t have say anything else. We both know what we mean.
And that’s another I think you could use in a story and not bother to explain. The sound alone delivers enough of a “meaning.”
When the kids were young and Star Wars was fresh in everyone’s mind, we entertained ourselves at dinner by making up the annual Christmas letter from Darth and Tammy Vader. Their dog was a Pekinese named Snuffles.
Not THAT is one holiday letter I might actually read.
When my grandparents were young, they were going to the movies with some friends. All grown-ups, all married. The man went to buy the tickets, and my grandfather yelled after him, “Get adults!” as if he accidentally buy kids’ tickets. That phrase, “get adults,” is my family’s version of “no, duh.”
There are a million movie and TV lines that banter about in my house. Just yesterday, talking about an annoying person in my friend’s life, I said, “He’s not gone. He’s never gone,” from “What About Bob?” When something horrible (but slightly funny) happens, it’s “Mr. Zero knew before you knew?” from When Harry Met Sally. And when someone says something rude, “That’s harsh. I’m a writer, and I know dialog, and that’s particularly harsh,” which is often shortened to just “that’s particularly harsh.” Also from When Harry Met Sally.
Most of my idioms come from When Harry Met Sally, come to think of it. :)
Great post!
For my wife and I, “Intolerable Cruelty” serves as a bounty of riches much like “When Harry Met Sally” does for you:
“You FASCINATE me!”
“No go, Joe!”
“Pastries? They’ll go beggin’.”
“Haven’t you heard of Kirschner?”
“What’s your bottom line, Freddy?”
“You want tact, call a tactician. I’m an ass-nailer. I nail asses.”
“Crunchy biscuits for the teeth?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Strangling the witness.” (Response: “I’ll allow it.”)
“Weep and wail like Baptists at a funeral.”
(Said with a Daffy Duck lisp): “We deal in perception. We are not supposed to be perceived to be dancing to the music of a hurdy-gurdy!” (Pronounced hoidy-goidy)
“I’m going to talk to you about the God damn law. We serve the law. We honor the law! And sometimes, Counselor, we obey the law. But, Counselor, this is not one of those times.”
My mother uses quotes from “Alice’s Restaurant” like that. “Shovels and rakes and implements of destruction” “sittin’ here on the group W bench” “I mean, I mean, I MEAN”
Brilliant.
Just recently watched something where two characters (who are good friends but not lovers) quote famous movie lines to each other and so we, as the reader, sense they might be a good match, particularly when the woman does the same thing while on a blind date, and the new guy only looks confused. Great way to illustrate being “on the same page.” (and now I’m wondering what that catch phrase came from) – funny post, David. Thanks.
Great example of how to use this technique. Thanks, Maggie.
Reminds me of the time, on a temp job, I got into a wrangle with the much-younger fellow I was working for. He kept asking me nitpicking questions, until finally I blustered, “Well, I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition!” His face crinkled up in a grin as he recognized the line from a classic Monty Python sketch, and he replied with the next line, perfectly imitating Michael Palin’s inflection, “Nobody EXPECTS the Spanish Inquisition!”
What can I say, David? You are talking about the essence of what salvages quotidian life in marriage, something special, invented and private. Here’s one from Barry and Barbara Knister’s private lexicon, to be applied to your post. When we’re eating something worthy of a convict’s last meal, one or both of us will murmur “death row delicious.”
Perfect, Barry. Poetic. Poignant.
Great post, Dave — eminently useful and wildly entertaining. My family has its own touchstone expressions. If someone is about to reach the climax of a story or reveal the cause of a mysterious event, one of us will say, “It’s a cookbook!” from the classic Twilight Zone episode, “To Serve Man.” When an appliance is hopelessly broken or a team hopelessly behind in a game, we’ll raise our hand in a two-fingered papal sign of the cross for “rest in peace.”
My mom’s phrase “I’m going to turn you over my checkered apron,” was a warning we kids took seriously.
The word “spaghetti” was said to alert another family member that the dog, cat, or toddler was engaging in some interesting activity.
David, a compendium of wry wisdom here. I’ll add one in a tongue few people hear, Kosraean, spoken on the little Micronesian island of Kosrae, where my girlfriend and I lived for a year. The phrase, “wo liki wangin,” which is applicable in so many situations: it means, “better than nothing.”
They also used its compressed form, “wangin,” when the response was “nothing” to questions like “Do you have fish today?” We continue to say it with resignation, courage, and calm.
These are all so fabulous, but this one:
Got some medication you need to take?
From an old girlfriend, not a spouse. Said when she caught me glancing at my watch during a date.
totally cracked me up. Thanks for that
“We’ll always have Budaun,” said of filming on the set of the movie Opium (in Budan, Uttar Pradesh) by a character staying, to one leaving the filming, in reference to shenanigans on set. Roughly the equivalent of we’ll never forget what happened.
Wonderful post. I loved every word. Thanks!
My family often quotes lines from movies and songs at each other as a sort of short hand (or sometimes my dad will start singing something at my mom because of her accidentally quoting a line from a song they both know).
“It’s like idiot in stereo,” (I believe the line is from Red vs Blue) is something two of my sisters will often say after saying the same thing at the same time.
“Have fun storming the castle!” (Princess Bride) is a frequent thing said when we’re saying bye.
A line I heard recently that I’ve started making use of on occasion (and would very much like to use in a story): “I make myself in my own image.” I wish I could remember exactly where I heard it, it was in one of my transgender specific online circles and I thought it was brilliant.
Somewhat similar to one of the ones you mentioned: “Choices were made,” or a slightly altered version, “Well, that was a choice,” whenever consequences for actions come up, usually in the context of our family D&D campaign, but not always.
“I can’t words right now,” when one of us is having a hard time articulating something.
Did John le Carré have more Achilles heels than he had feet? John le Carré may have been arguably the best writer ever in the espionage genre but was he the perfect spy? No and for more on him as an imperfect spy do see TheBurlingtonFiles website and read an intriguing news article dated 31 October 2022.
Some mavericks in MI6 called Pemberton’s People thought David Cornwell was a bit of a couch potato. Mind you, just because ex-spy/historian Hugh Trevor-Roper condescendingly described John le Carré’s work as “rich flatulent puff” doesn’t mean you shouldn’t read the epic raw and noir fact-based spy novel Beyond Enkription in The Burlington Files series. It’s a must read for espionage cognoscenti.
Sorry that an evening obligation prevented me from responding to the latter half dozen comments last night. They’re all brilliant, and underscore how creative we are in our everyday interactions — now, to let that flow into our fiction! Thanks one and all.
These are fantastic, David. Thanks for a fun post.
We’re currently rewatching Seinfelt, and I’d describe this process as pathognomonic of Larry David’s writing. It’s a rare episode where the characters don’t define an in-crowd experience, then proceed to play with its application.
e.g. Someone is deemed “sponge-worthy”, meaning that in the face of Elaine’s dwindling supply of contraceptive sponges, they’re worth a trial between the sheets.
Or the phrase Master of Your Domain, which describes the winner of the He/she Who Can Abstain from Masturb***** the Longest contest. (Asterixed to avoid being caught in spam.)