Be Subersive with Subtext
- J.J. Richardson
- Sep 21
- 5 min read
Imagine a TV series where every minute of every episode is filmed in the same room. The only thing you ever see is a man seated at a booth at the end of a diner, meeting with his clients as they come to speak with him, one at a time. The entire series consists entirely of dialogue, where viewers hear about what happens but never see it happen.
How could a show like that be wildly popular?
The TV series is a psychological thriller called The Booth at the End. The episodes go like this:
A person approaches the man in a diner and asks for something he or she desperately wants, such as a mother’s restored health, gaining popularity, or having more money.
The man in the booth tells the person what they must do to have their wish. The tasks are dark and mysterious.
The person returns later to report on progress or back out of the deal. There’s no penalty for backing out. But if the person completes the task, the wish is granted.
The show is proof that if dialogue is good enough, nothing else is needed. No special effects and no action.
If you don’t believe me, watch the following clip from the show. You’ll be impressed:
If you want to learn about exquisite dialogue, watch the two seasons of The Booth at the End and pay close attention to every word.
Before you and I were born, there were no televisions. Instead, people of all ages huddled around their family radios at night to hear the next episode of Gunsmoke, The Lone Ranger, and The Adventures of Superman. Do not underestimate the power of those programs, which consisted only of dialogue, a few sound effects, and simple musical scores.
When I was very young, we’d listen to reruns of CBS Radio Mystery Theater episodes on our car radio when on long trips at night. They were every bit as gripping as modern-day movies. The link below provides an example from that radio show. Just hearing the squeaky door brings back memories:
Subtext
So, how do we create powerful and consuming dialogue? If I had to choose only one bit of advice to help you get inside and control the minds of your readers, it would be for you to employ subtext.
Subtext is when a character says one thing but means another. The reader may sense that it’s happening but may not know why. Subtext is the meaning behind the dialogue. Subtext in conversation is one of the best ways for your readers to get to know your characters.
In real life, people often use subtext in their conversations:
The husband comes home exhausted from work after terrible traffic for 45 minutes and sinks into a living room chair. He puts his hands against his face.
His wife says, “Tonya next door is pregnant!”
“Super,” the husband mutters.
What he really means is, “I don’t care about that right now.”
People often don’t say what they really mean when they’re,
Annoyed
Ashamed
Dishonest
Exhausted
Intimidated
Uncomfortable
What a way to reveal such conditions to your readers without using those words!
How to employ subtext in dialogue
If you’re an expert, you embed it into your characters’ conversations as necessary. However, if you’re like the rest of us, write your dialogue as well as you can. Then, after you’ve completed your story, go back and add subtext as necessary.
Examples of subtext in fiction
How do the experts do it? Here are three examples:
“The Hunt for Red October” (1984), Tom Clancy
Is Ryan’s daughter really worried about Santa?
"Daddy?" Ryan's daughter was staring up at him.
"And how's my little Sally today?"
"Fine."
"You don't look fine. What's bothering my little girl?"
"Well, Daddy, y'see, it's almost Chris'mas, an...I'm not sure that Santa knows where we are. We're not where we were last year."
"Oh, I see. And you're afraid he doesn't come here?"
"Uh huh."
"Why didn't you ask me before? Of course, he comes here. Promise."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
“Run Silent, Run Deep” (1955), Edward L. Beach
Jim knows something is up with his promotion.
“Jim,” I said, “have you thought much about qualification for command?”
Jim looked startled. “Of course. You have to be qualified before you can have your own boat.”
I grinned at him, but inside I was in a turmoil. This was casting the die. Jim’s face still held the surprised question as I took the plunge. “Well, I’m recommending you today.”
A succession of emotions crossed his face. “You’re kidding! I thought I was too junior.”
“Not any more.”
Jim looked down at the deck, shifting his weight uneasily. “What’s happened?” he asked.
“Nothing, old man. I just thought it was time to put you up—.”
“I mean, when the Commodore sent for you. Is this what you talked about?”
“Nope.” I forced another smile.
“I’ll bet it was, though.” Jim seemed lost in thought.
“What did you hear yesterday.” I made it a statement instead of a question.
“That we’re going to start a big submarine campaign against the japs.” He puffed moodily.
I put both hands behind my head. “What’s so surprising about that? It’s what the submarine force was built for.”
“I mean against the Japanese merchant marine.”
“The Shark Mutiny” (2001), Patrick Robinson
What’s really on the Admiral’s mind? Why is Rimshawe so disrespectful?
“G’day, Admiral,” he said. “Coupla things here I think we want to take a sharp look at.”
David Borden looked up, an expression of surprise on his face.
“Lieutenant,” he said. “I wonder if you could bring yourself to give me the elementary courtesy of knocking before you enter my office?”
“Sir? I thought I just did.”
“And then perhaps waiting to be invited in?”
“Sir? This isn’t a bloody social call. I have urgent stuff in my hand which I think you should know about right away.”
“Lieutenant Ramshawe, there are certain matters of etiquette still observed here in the U.S. Navy, though I imagine they have long been dispensed with in your own country.”
“Sir, this is my country.”
“Of course. But your accent sounds like no other U.S. officer I ever met.”
“Well, I can’t help that. But since we’re wasting time, and I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot now that you’re in the big chair, I’ll get back outside and we’ll start over, right?”
Before Admiral Borden could answer, Jimmy Ramshawe had walked out and closed the door behind him. Then he knocked on it, and the Director, feeling slightly absurd, called, “Come in, Lieutenant.”
“Christ, I’m glad we got that over with,” said Jimmy, turning on his Aussie philosophical, lopsided grin. “Anyway, g’day, Admiral. Got something here I think we should take a look at.”
Keep it subtle
Leonardo da Vinci was famous for inventing a painting technique called sfumato, where the brush strokes aren’t visible. Likewise, you want your literary brushstrokes to reside just beneath the mysterious, murky water, where their subversive effects aren't fully understood.
Let it hide within your story so it lingers at the back of your readers’ minds, keeping them up at night worrying about your characters, remaining subconsciously submissive to your literary submissions.
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