Short stories have long been some of my favorites, both reading and writing them, and I’ve added listening to them to the menu.
I’ve also been trying my hand at writing for podcast distribution.
Podcasts have much in common with audio versions of books, and owe much
to that earlier invitation to “return to those thrilling days of yesteryear” on
pre-TV radio.
But I’m learning that the stories written for podcast do present some
unique challenges.
Perhaps the most obvious one is in presenting dialogue. Most of my short
stories contain quite bit of dialogue, which often serves to define character
and move the story along.
What presents as a witty repartee on the page can quickly devolve into a
confused mess on a podcast. Without the visual clues we depend upon to follow
the who’s saying what, it can be almost impossible to know who really is saying
what.
We know that quotation marks indicate the beginning and end of a spoken
statement. And that each new speaker will have a new paragraph. Using those
clues, characters on the page can hold a lively back-and-forth conversation.
Without those clues, however, dialogue is much harder to follow. It won’t
be as obvious to the ear as it is to the eye who is speaking. To keep things
understandable, each bit of dialogue must be attributed to whichever character is
saying it.
The last thing we need is a listener who puzzled over “who was saying
that?” For one thing, the podcast proceeds relentlessly. No chance to re-read
to sort out a bit of confusion. While someone could theoretically stop the
narration, reverse, and replay a passage, that’s a major interruption in the
flow. It’s just as likely to have the listener check out as continue.
Ubiquitous use of “he said...” “she said…” when seen on the page allows
the eye to skim over the words, letting them fade into the background and
become virtually unnoticeable. In the podcast, this will become a monotonous
repetition that grates on the ear.
While a character certainly need not present multi-paragraph lectures,
blocks of dialogue can be longer than in written works, and might not need as
much prompting from other characters. I do struggle with violating my usual “no
more than three sentences before a change in character or a break” rule. I have
always recognized exceptions, but for the podcast, exceptions may become the
rule.
Interspersing actions with dialogue, always a good way to keep the story
moving, is especially important on a podcast.
Another area where the lack of visual clues can cause problems is with
character names. We all know to be careful about using similar-appearing names
for characters, especially ones that begin and end with the same letters. Elizabeta
and Elspathia may be distinct names, but for many readers, the beginning E and
the ending A can be confusing, especially for the casual reader who does not
want to have to concentrate deeply on what is undoubtedly leisure reading.
For the podcast, this extends to sound. We should not have Cindy the
heroine and Sandie the villain in the same piece. And definitely not secondary
characters named Andy or Manda.
Likewise, words that sound too similar need to be avoided, or at least
separated by time and distance.
Our
committed character may contend with a conflict and be called upon come to some
conscientious conclusion, but the concept under consideration should not be
categorized as contentious. Not if we want the listener to be able to make
sense of the story.
On the plus side, this is a
perfect venue for onomatopoeia—words that sound like what they mean. When
they’re read aloud, tinkling chimes, clanging cell doors and water whooshing
over a spillway acquire a presence that cannot be achieved when merely written on
a page.
Likewise, judicious repetition
of words or sounds can draw attention to important aspects of the story and
emphasize them. Perhaps, when on duty, a character is always alert, always
prepared, and always ready to swing into action.
My present work-in-progress is
intended for submission to Tina and Jack Wolff’s Mysteries to Die For.
These stories are traditional who-dun-its, where clues (and, of course, red
herrings) are laid out, and toward the end of the podcast, listeners are
invited to take a stab at the solution.
I’m enjoying the challenge of
working for this format, and hope listeners will enjoy the presentations.
Link to The Bus Stops Here, my latest story in a podcast presented by Mysteries to Die For.
