We were talking about dialogue a little while ago, and how effective it has to be in books, and this morning, I tripped across an email on one of my loops about the never-ending battle of how romance readers/writers respond to the snarky comments we often receive from others who think romance novels and romance readers are silly, etc. I gave up worrying about that a while ago. My niece is a lawyer, and we all know what abuse lawyers take. I mean, are there any real jokes about romance writers? The poor lawyers and dentists really get socked. So, I don't feel so bad. And anyone who reads/watches anything, the sci-fi readers, the fantasy readers, etc, everyone gets picked on for something, so I don't worry much about defending my choices or my profession anymore. (I just ask them what they read and then mock theirs, LOL. . .no, not really. Even I am not that immature...)

Wait... where was I? (It's that kind of morning...). Oh, dialogue. Right. The thing about dialogue I realized, though is that it's part of the fantasy of a book, the same way beautiful people, beautiful clothes, incredible locations, perfect, sex, and heroes are.

This is a fantasy because how many times do we ever think of saying just the right thing at just the right moment? If you're like me, you usually think of the thing you *should* have said five minutes, or five days, later. Yet again, it reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where George comes up with the perfect comeback ("The jerk store called...."), and lays in wait to use it, only for it to blow up in his face.

In books, we can revise, sculpt, and play with language until we manage that witty banter that makes characters seem so clever and quick, but of course it took several days and tries to get that line just right. My favorite recently has been Richelle Mead's character Georgina Kincaid, who struggles through her life as a succubus working in a bookstore (wonderful series) but also, one of my very favorite things about TV series like Buffy and Veronica Mars is their dialogue -- the retorts and exchanges are rapidfire and perfect. It doesn't get much better than the back and forth between Veronica and her father, both detectives who play off each other perfectly. On TV and in books, the perfect comeback is always at hand.

I love books where the lead character thinks clever thoughts, makes insightful observations about the world, and comes up with the perfect quip or comeback in a conversation. I love writing those moments, too, though there have been precious few of them in my own daily life.

In real life, I can't think of the last time I had the perfect thing to say at the perfect moment, though I know I also tend to quip and play with language, and I like to make people laugh. I have had one I've been working on, revising and preparing for the perfect moment -- I want to be prepared, like George Costanza, though my big moment hasn't arrived. There is a woman who walks her dogs where I do, and she is so overtly bitchy -- literally nose up in the air, and if you say hi, she just keeps walking. Most people on the trail are friendly, and we all know each other and our dogs, and exchange those looks of parents with precocious children when the dogs act up. Not this lady, in her skin-tight capris and little tee-shirt and glammy sunglasses.

One of my dogs doesn't like her dog much (go figure) and I think that's the source of it. When the pooches acted up, and I give her the "here they go again" look and say hi, she just keeps walking, looking pissed off. So, my imaginary conversation, the one that I would have written, went something like this:

"Hi, she's full of it today, I guess," I say, in the friendly manner of dog owners everywhere.
"You shouldn't have an unfriendly dog on the trail," she says haughtily through her pursed, tight little lips.
I level her the look, and draw in a breath, delivering my line with perfect timing: "Why not? They allow unfriendly people here, apparently."

Okay, so it's not brilliant, and I'll probably never get a chance to use it, but want to be prepared, just in case. When was the last time you had the perfect comeback, or wished you did? What's the perfect comeback you came up with five minutes later, or the one you wait to use? Or, what's your favorite dialogue moment in a book?