Dialogue

“This week’s story is going to focus on dialogue,” lectured the teacher. She then continued with the following: “When creative writing, you often want to express the story through the characters’ own voices.” After eyeing the whining students she raised her voice to explain, “This means that you need to learn how to correctly punctuate quotation marks and you also need to think of synonyms for the word ‘said.’” Bobby raised his hand and asked, “You mean we can’t use the word ‘said’ in our stories?” “That’s right, Bobby. You’re very intelligent,” she complimented sarcastically. “And this has to be done this Friday?” complained Judy. “Just like the other stories,” reminded the teacher. And with that, the students’ brains began to think of awesome dialogues they could create.

Rules for “QUOTATION MARKS”
1. Use a capital letter with the first word of a direct quotation of a whole sentence. Do not use a capital letter with the first letter of a direct quotation that is part of the rest of a sentence.
Mr. and Mrs. Allen said, “We refuse to use pesticide.” Mr. and Mrs. Allen said that they “refuse to use pesticide.”
2. If the quotation is interrupted and then continues, do not capitalize the second part of the quotation.
“He likes to talk,” she said, “especially when he thinks he’s being funny.”
3. Commas and periods always go to the left of the quotation marks.
I commented, “I don’t think that book is appropriate.”
4. Question marks, exclamation marks, and dashes go inside the quotatioin marks when they are part of the quotation, and outside when they are not.
Where’s your copy of “The Raven”?
“How cold is it outside?” my mother asked.
5. Put quotes around titles of short stories, poems, songs, articles, chapters.
I love the poem “Annabel Lee,” the story “White knight at the Battlefeld,” the song “Yellow Submarine,” the article “Your Own Lunch,” and the chapter “Peace Be With You.”
6. Use single ‘quotation marks’ around a quote that is in another quote.
“Juan, will you read the poem ‘Annabel Lee’ out loud to the class?” asked Mrs. Peddicord.

Your story should be no longer than one typed, double spaced page.

Your story should contain LOTS and LOTS of dialogue and not use the word ‘said.’

Grade: _______________/50

“Wa’er,” she pleaded. “Wa’r” she again supplicated. “¿Qu¬é quiere la mujer?” one of the men asked the other. “Tal vez quiere agua,” shrugged the second man. She blinked a long slow blink and thought that when she opened her eyes the men would be gone. “I nee’ hel’, please,” she urged. “I ha’en’t had a dri’ in days.” The first man jabbed at her with his walking stick and smiled when she didn’t even move. “¿Vemos si tiene dinero?” came his question. “No creo. Apenas tiene ropa,” replied the other. “Quizas debemos llevarla a la casa,” he recommended again.
She wrestled to open her heavy eyes. The lids wiggled and slowly came unglued and she blearily peered around a dingy room. “AAAAAAHHHHHHHH,”she screamed when the burro’s head popped through the small window. “What do you want?” she asked him when she’d calmed down a little. “Heeeeee Haaaaaaaaw,” the burro squawked. She stood shakily on her tired legs and smacked her chapped and broken lips. “I wonder where I am?” she questioned herself. She walked to the curtain that hung as a door to the outside. She looked out and saw a group of people sitting around a fire toasting tortillas and drinking atole.
“Qué hacemos con la mujer?” “Necesita donde vivir y está débil todavia.” “Sí, pero no tenemos que darle.”
“Hem hem,” she breathed out and everyone turned to look at her. With trepidation she walked toward the fire. “Bienvenida,” spoke the woman in a sweet, welcoming voice. “Uh, does anyone speak English?” she hopefully replied.
At that moment, a gringo came around the corner. She recognized him. He scanned the surroundings and his glance stopped on her. “Mina?” he asked her. “Are you okay?” “I am now,” she thought.
 

Creative writing was always a difficult idea for me to teach because grading someone's creativity is sooo hard to justify.  Here are some creative writing assignments I've designed to help focus the students' ideas as well as clearly outline gradable-expectations.

Valentines Day

Another essential part of a story is CONFLICT!! Without a conflict, it would be difficult to find the point to your story. The story that you are going to write is going to be about Valentines Day. The only catch is that you cannot use the words LOVE, HEART, FEBRUARY, FLOWERS, ROSES, CHOCOLATES, BALLOONS. Have fun and remember to focus on CONFLICT

Conflict:
Man vs. Man
2 guys fighting, sporting events, war
Think of a movie/story

Man vs. Himself
Psychological diseases, conquering fears, figuring out who you are
Think of a movie/story

Man vs. Society
Fitting into a group, fighting racism, fighting governments
Think of a movie/story

Man vs. Nature
Getting eaten by a bear, tornadoes, earthquakes, disease
Think of a movie/story

Man vs. God
Dealing with circumstances, disease, trying to do the right thing
Think of a movie/story

Your story should be no longer than one typed, double spaced page.

Your story should be about Valentines Day without using the words LOVE, HEART, FEBRUARY, FLOWERS, ROSES, CHOCOLATES, BALLOONS.

What kind of conflict is in your story?

The sniper slipped soundlessly through the fresh leaves. His skin pricked up as he sensed his target nearby. He couldn’t see him in the deep blackness of the moonless night but he had a 6th sense that had kept him alive all these years. A slight shiver in the bushes below let him know that his target was moving. His agility let him slip down the backside of the tree, the scent of oak leaves fresh in his nose. He silently slipped around the base of the giant tree to find a gun barrel 2 inches from the bridge of his nose. It was the last thing he saw.

His breathing felt thick to him and his footsteps sounded heavy. He hunkered down into the bush outside his living room window. The fear was on his tongue like a heavy syrupy drink. He physically felt the presence of the assassin in the tree but couldn’t muster the courage to do anything about it. The only calming thought was the .270 hunting rifle. He could smell the gunpowder as he held it against his face. His knees shook and he saw the man lower himself from the oak. He scampered toward the tree and pointed the gun. His fear overcoming him, he pulled the trigger.

After he’d vomited on his lawn, the man sat down to contemplate the circumstances that had gotten him to this point. Five years ago, he’d been approached by government officials who had offered him his freedom in exchange for his services as a mule for transporting sensitive documents. They’d forced him to leave his job as an accountant and compensated him well but the toll on his family had been irreparable. The FBI had taken everything important in his life from him. Now they were trying to take his life.

He stood up and decided to walk away from this whole mess. He started down the road as a light rain started to fall. The wetness felt clean at first and then the wind started to blow. The rain soon changed to a thick, wet snow. He felt his eyebrows freeze and the area around his mouth and nose began to chap because of the moisture in his breath. He had no idea how far he’d have to walk but knew that without a coat he wouldn’t make it for very long in the plummeting temperatures.

As he trudged down the empty a road, headlights suddenly appeared in the distance. He wanted to hide but couldn’t muster anymore of the lies. A police cruiser highlighted him with his headlights and pulled up next to him. The officer asked if he was okay. The man didn’t know what to do. If he told the police about the dead assassin on his front lawn, his life would be immeasurably more complicated and he would almost certainly end up dead. If he kept walking he would definitely end up dead tonight. He didn’t know what the right thing to do would be. Could he redeem himself somewhat if he started to tell the truth now?
 

Chapter 19/Diecineuve: 217-221

Chapter 13/Trece: 136-142