Writing Dialogue with a Drawl: Using Language to Build Character
- TH.Malcolm
- May 13
- 3 min read
I write like I talk.
Sometimes that’s polished. Other times it’s got dirt on its knees and a drawl that won’t quit. Either way, it’s real—and real is what I’m after. After all, that’s all I know, folks. There’s as much “put on” with me as a car crash on the interstate. What you see (or read) is what you get.
Don’t Mistake Education for Erasure
Yes, I’m educated. Probably overeducated by some folks’ standards. But let’s get something clear: I don’t believe education should wash the flavor off a person. Ever. I've met people with entire alphabets after their name who don’t have a lick of common sense or soul. I’m not impressed by pieces of paper—I’m impressed by character, honor, and the way a person treats the waitress refilling their tea.
You can be smart and still say y’all. You can have a PhD and still call someone darlin’ if they’re having a hard day. That kind of balance? That’s the sweet spot in dialogue.
I’m Southern. I Write Southern. Period.
I’m not going to apologize for my accent or the rhythms of my roots. I grew up hearing turns of phrase that carried centuries of culture, hardship, humor, and survival. Southern idioms aren’t just colorful—they’re efficient. Why waste ten words when one “bless her heart” will do?
But here’s the kicker: I don’t write in dialect to be cute or quirky. I do it to build character.
How someone speaks tells you:
Where they come from
Who they’re trying to impress
What they’re hiding
And sometimes, how far they’ll go
Dialogue Is More Than What’s Said
It’s how it’s said.Who says it.And who stays quiet.
A rich girl raised to “speak properly” will code-switch when she’s scared. A backwoods boy with a sharp tongue might outwit everyone in the room without raising his voice. A church lady who never swears might whisper something so cutting it leaves permanent scars. (Uhm, yeah, my mother was skilled with this.)
Speech reveals class, intent, insecurity, and allegiance. That’s why I write it the way I do. It’s not just about accuracy—it’s about authenticity.
Accessibility Matters
Now, I don’t sling dialect so thick it trips readers up. That’s a rookie mistake. You want readers to feel the drawl, not wrestle with it. So I choose words and rhythms carefully:
I drop the g when it flows naturally (fixin’, hollerin’, reckonin’)
I sprinkle in idioms for flavor, not filler
I let tone, cadence, and sentence structure carry the rest
You won’t need a translation guide for my stories. But if you’ve ever been to a feed store, sat on a porch swing, or listened to your granddaddy tell a ghost story—you’ll hear the echoes.
I Love Accents—All of ‘Em
Look, I may be Southern to the bone, but my circle’s wide. I’ve got friends and family from:
Georgia (sloppy kisses to Acworth and Dallas)
Massachusetts (hugs to Andover and Boston)
New York (hey there, Brooklyn and the Bronx)
Texas (yo Marshall and San Antonio, wha’s-up y’all)
Los Angeles (hang ten, dudettes)
Argentina, Australia, UK, Germany, Scotland, Russia, Ukraine, Tokyo…
Every single one of them brings their own rhythm, slang, and sparkle. That’s what makes dialogue fun to write. Accents aren’t something to scrub away. They’re storytelling gold.
Final Thought
The way we speak reveals who we are—not just where we’re from. When I write dialogue, I’m not just shaping speech. I’m shaping soul. So the next time a character of mine lets loose with a “well I’ll be,” know it’s not just decoration.
And it’s pure Southern noir.
