Years ago at a work seminar, I was introduced to the concept, “The conversation is the relationship.” At the time, I thought this perspective didn’t address the idea of ‘actions speak louder than words,’ but I started paying attention to the words I chose and the time I spent on them. I recognized truth in the saying when I realized I often rushed through minor conversations, as if fewer words meant I could move on to more important tasks.

In both our real lives and in our fiction writing, words like, “Beautiful day!” and “Nice to see you,” are a good way to begin a conversation; these small openings can lead us to see a person’s intentions, desires, interests, and emotions. When someone tells you their beliefs, their problems, their thoughts on a subject, they reveal themselves. And when you, in turn, reveal similar experiences, you establish a connection. Over time, conversations build the relationship, or they steer you away, depending on what is said.

In a story, we use conversations to create conflict and tension, and to resolve it.
I think of Bill Murray’s character in the movie, “Groundhog Day”, where a disgruntled man learns to truly meet every person he comes into contact with. His transition is remarkable because at first he likes no one and pushes people away. He learns to listen, interact, and create deep relationships with the residents of a small town, all within one day.

In our writing, a character might speak honestly, sharing an idea or feeling. Another character might hide their emotions or intentions for any number of reasons: fear, money, power, class, politics, etc. We trust or distrust a character based on their words, and when the reader knows a character is pretending or is insincere, the tension of the story builds and keeps the reader turning the pages. We want to see what happens when the ‘true-character’ of a character is found out.

For example, in Patricia Highsmith’s The Talented Mr. Ripley, the reader knows something that the characters do not: Tom is a very bad man! But the characters believe Tom’s words and distrust their own intuition. Their conversations are lies, and so their relationships are based on lies.

In James Baldwin’s Giovanni’s Room, the protagonist has not told his lovers about each other, and his conversations, often with himself, reveal the deception in his relationships.

I felt a great need to get out of there before Giovanni arrived. “We haven’t eaten supper yet,” I said, trying to smile. “Perhaps we can meet you later?” I knew that my smile was begging him to be kind to me.

But at that moment the tiny bell which announced every entry into the shop rang, and Jacques said, “Ah. Here is Giovanni.” And, indeed, I felt him behind me, standing stock-still, staring, and felt in Hella’s clasp, in her entire body, a kind of wild shrinking and not all of her composure kept this from showing in her face. When Giovanni spoke, his voice was thick with fury and relief and unshed tears.

Where have you been?” he cried. “I thought you were dead! I thought you had been knocked down by a car or thrown into the river — what have you been doing all these days?”

I was able, oddly enough, to smile. And I was astonished at my calm. “Giovanni,” I said, “I want you to meet my fiancee. Mlle Hella. Monsieur Giovanni.”

The conversation is the relationship when Harry Potter and Ron Weasley first meet. As the boys head to school on a train, they are shy at first, but curious about each other’s lives. Instead of creating tension, they create a friendship with their conversation.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.

“Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry.“Everywhere else is full.”

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn’t looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose….

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded.

“Oh — well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes,” said Ron.“And have you really got — you know…” He pointed at Harry’s forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. 

Ron stared.“So that’s where You-Know-Who — ?”

“Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.”

“Nothing?” said Ron eagerly.

“Well — I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.”

“Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

“Are all your family wizards?”asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. 

“Er — yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mom’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“So you must know loads of magic already.”

The conversation is the relationship. 

Until next space….