In previous discussions, we learned emotion is a reaction to
a motivator. When writing about emotional reaction, we break it into its components.
First, there is an involuntary visceral reaction to the stimulant (fight or
flight mechanism), followed by thought, then dialogue and/or action. These
steps must come in chronological order or the reader feels unsettled. We’ll
look at methods for portraying thoughts.
The point of view character (POV) can express his thoughts
through the use of Inner Dialogue. With his own voice, he can emote, reflect, and
make observations. He can fantasize, reveal hurts, desires. He can discuss
things he’d never say aloud or act upon.
In third person, there are two ways of doing this. The first
is by expressing the thought in first person. This sets it off from the
narration. Used sparingly, it is always placed in italics. The second way is by
leaving the words in third person and allowing the context to show they are thought.
Italics are never used and tags (he thought, she pondered) are rarely used. It
is intimate and when done correctly the line between inner dialogue and description
is blurred. This promotes smooth transitions back and forth between description
and the POV’s thoughts.
The following is an excerpt from my novel
Echoes. The POV character is former
linguistics professor Dr. Alejandro de Cordoba de la Rosa, now a foreign agent
who is tracking an arms shipment that was sent from his country in South
America to
California.
Working incognito, he has presented himself to a semi-rural community as an
immigrant day laborer who has limited English. I’ve underlined his inner
dialogue.
A purring engine approached. Tires
skidded on the gravel, and a dusty GMC truck crunched to a stop by the barn.
“Hey, Alejandro.” Dr. Crossman
jumped from the cab, agile as a man half his eighty-five years.
Alejandro leaned on the axe handle
and nodded.
The old man whistled at the
woodpile. “A job well done, my friend.” He pulled out his wallet and handed his
worker three crisp twenties. His gaze rested on Alejandro’s arm. “That’s quite
a scar you got there, son. Looks fairly recent. I got a couple just like it at
Normandy.”
Alejandro buried the axe blade in
the chopping block and stuffed the bills in a pocket of his baggies. Reaching
for the shirt that hung on a fence post, he chided himself.
He’d have to be
more careful. Keep quiet. Never do anything memorable. Never attract attention
in any way. [
he’s impatient with
himself and reveals he’s hiding who he is]
“I’m heading down for a load of
hay,” Crossman said. “If you’re interested in helping out, hop in.”
Alejandro stepped to the passenger
door and glanced over his shoulder. A delivery truck had turned into the
nursery’s driveway.
It could be hauling anything. Plants. Guns. Fertilizer
for manufacturing explosives. [
shows
he’s curious]
He swung onto the passenger seat,
and the GMC lurched forward. His head jerked back as the door slammed shut.
Heart pumping like a piston, he hunted for the seatbelt. The truck zoomed down
the long driveway toward the bridge, turning the light shining through the
trees into a high-speed strobe. On the narrow canyon road, the vehicle flew
through twists and turns. He gulped.
The old man was insane. [
shows fear]
“You a praying man, son?” Crossman
made eye contact, whizzed past a sign that said speed limit 30 mph, and
barreled directly toward a knot of bicyclists.
Alejandro flinched and grabbed his
armrest. “No,
señor.”
But he might
become one soon. [
fear for his safety
is mounting]
“Where ya from?”
“Here, now.”
“Hmm…” Crossman chewed his
toothpick. “Most immigrants I know are either running from something or
searching for something. My guess is you’re a searcher.”
Alejandro shrugged.
“Or maybe you’re both. Running from
something to find something.” Crossman stomped on the brakes, slamming
Alejandro against his shoulder restraint. “Gotta watch it along this stretch.
Sheriff hides on those rabbit trails, and he’s just plain unreasonable.” He
craned his neck and waved at a half-hidden patrol car. Around the bend, he
floored the accelerator. “Yep, too bad you’re not a prayer. Makes it a lot
easier for a man to determine God’s plans for him.”
Alejandro kept his eyes straight
ahead.
He didn’t need help—except for surviving this trip. He knew his
destiny. It involved putting a bullet in Esteban’s greasy face. [
he is determined, fantasizes, and reveals
more of his dark mission]
“Ya got a Green Card?”
“
Sí.”
“How about a driver’s license?”
“
Sí.”
Both courtesy of Vito’s counterfeiters. [
He’s thankful to his handlers and reveals
more of who he is]
“Haven’t kept the ranch up like I
did before the missus took ill. Our daughter’s helping out, but she has a boy
at home that’s a handful. I’m impressed by your work. Would you be interested
in $500 a week, the use of the cabin, credit at the grocers, Sundays, half
Saturdays and holidays off?”
Alejandro grinned. “
Sí, señor.”
What could be better? A
twenty-four-hour-a-day view of the nursery. [
he’s delighted at his mission’s progress]
Unlike Dr. Crossman who thinks he
has hired an immigrant day laborer, a common occurrence in his community, the
reader sees that Alejandro is quite educated and has a dark mission he is
keeping secret. Inner dialogue adds depth and intimacy with the POV
character.—Quinn