311. The Art of Subtext with Sue Mell

Award-winning author Sue Mell joins the podcast to discuss the how she has used subtext in her writing, why it's important, and how you can use it to further your story.

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Visit Sue's website:
http://www.suemell.com/

Read her Substack:
https://suemell.substack.com/

Follow Sue on Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/suemellwrites/

Transcript

Jennia: Hello, I'm Jennia D'Lima. Welcome to Writing and Editing, the author-focused podcast that takes a whole-person approach to everything related to both writing and editing. Even in our everyday speech, so much of what's really being said is never said at all. The same is true when we use subtext in our written dialogue, which can add layers of depth to your work. Award-winning author Sue Mell is here to explain why subtext matters and how you can add it to your own manuscript.

Jennia: Thanks so much for being here today!

Sue Mell: Thank you, Jennia! It's a pleasure.

Jennia: Same! Would you like to get us started by telling us a little bit about yourself and your writing?

Sue Mell: Sure. I'm a writer of literary fiction. I started out writing mostly short stories and then I wrote and published a novel which came out in 2022. And I just have a short story collection called A New Day, which just came out in September, which I'm very proud of.

Jennia: Oh congratulations on that!

Sue Mell: It's very dialogue heavy (both laugh).

Jennia: Oh, perfect! It's like you wrote it just for this conversation.

Sue Mell: Yes, exactly.

Jennia: So, to get started, how would you define subtext for those who don't know or might not be certain?

Sue Mell: That's an excellent question. Subtext is what's going on underneath. You know, it's funny, I was just looking at one of my favorites written by Lorrie Moore called Dance in America. It's from 30 years ago, but it's such an amazing story in terms of dialogue and subtext. So subtext is basically what is going on beneath what you're saying. I mean, maybe in a conversation you see an old friend and you say, "You look great," but really you see the wear and tear, or they've been ill, or you're secretly mad at them about something that they said to you 10 years ago. And that runs like an undercurrent beneath the conversation that you're having in the present. And subtext can also kind of refer to something deeper that's happening within a conversation that may not be revealed to either party in the conversation, or however many people are in the conversation. It's sort of revealed as the words come on, something—a Freudian slip, a metaphor that you choose that the character may not particularly notice, but that the reader will pick up on something deeper, a reference to the past or to something emotional that's happening. In the Lorrie Moore story there's a child who's seven who has cystic fibrosis—

Jennia: Mhm.

Sue Mell: —and who's not going to live very long. And that's an undercurrent that runs under the whole story. That then is kind of referred to jokingly and seriously and with great affection. But an undercurrent and undertow, even (laughs).

Jennia: Yeah! I like that. Yeah, that kind of shows the power that it has too. And you think of undertow and just what that can entail when you don't realize there is one, and maybe you've stepped out too far. But yeah.

Sue Mell: Yeah, yeah.

Jennia: So how do you think that reader engagement can suffer then, if we look at the opposite side when subtext isn't used at all?

Sue Mell: I see this a lot in first and early drafts of novels where, you know, a scene requires people to have a meal, for example, and the conversation is literally just about the passing of the dishes and the trays. And yeah, you have to have action. You have to have gesture. You can't just have—you know, it's not a movie. You have to have the details. The physical details have to be written out. I made a note about this when I was thinking about coming on the podcast, and I don't know who said this to me, but they said the dialogue can never do just one thing. It has to always do more than one thing. So, you know, someone folds their napkin, but they can't just fold their napkin. Like—I mean, it's an opportunity for what that means about the relationship or the character. Maybe it's somebody who's fastidious, and maybe that fastidiousness is something that reminds the other person at the meal of their lost parent. Or maybe it's something that irritates the crap out of them and is maybe going to be, like, the straw that breaks the camel's back. "If you fold that napkin one more time, I'm going to walk out the door."

Jennia: Yes!

Sue Mell: But otherwise it's just lackluster, really. I just think that, especially in short fiction, you have very little space to work in, and you want everything to be as finely honed and as full of depth as is possible and to just kind of have, like, a pointless gesture or a sigh or, you know, a mention of somebody pouring a glass of water. Like, why? Why would you do that when you could do so much more? And you could give the reader so much more reality, such a deeper experience of being in the story with just these tiny, tiny, little details.

Jennia: Yeah. And even just thinking about the combination of those small details with maybe even just a line of dialogue. So if we use your napkin folding example, I'm already thinking someone says, "Well, how is your day?" And they say, "Fine." But then they start folding their napkin and just sort of toss it on the table—

Sue Mell: Exactly!

Jennia: —or you get that child who's not really paying attention and they're doing origami with their napkin. Yeah, it tells you so much more than just whatever that one word answer is about that character, their mindset, maybe something about their relationship with that other person who's asking them this question. And you can take it all to the napkin.

Sue Mell: Exactly, exactly. And kind of another sort of common pitfall is I'll see, like, in a dialogue or a scene like that, is that somebody will say—I mean, they will sort of tell you what the person is experiencing when you don't have to do that. All you have to do is show them shredding that napkin and the reader understands what's happening.

Jennia: Right. And it's such a good way to avoid telling us how someone feels as well.

Sue Mell: Yeah, yeah.

Jennia: I mean, so we talk about these different elements all the time. And I know on the show we'll have things like, "Tell us about setting," "Tell us about character." But it's all so intertwined, which I think this is showing so well right now.

Sue Mell: Yeah, absolutely. That's very true.

Jennia: So besides napkin folding and pouring a glass of water (both laugh), what are some other ways to add subtext to your work?

Sue Mell: Well, there's the interior dialogue that goes along with the conversation. It's sort of what I was saying before. Somebody says, "You look great," and then they think to themselves that they look worse than they've seen them, you know, in the past 10 years. Or that they see that they're . . . sweat at their temple. So let's see, so there's a visual cues, there's their interior thoughts where somebody says something that is something that they always say, and it harks back to an argument that you had 10 years ago. And suddenly, you know, that tension is piqued again.

Jennia: Mmm.

Sue Mell: And also reveals character, kind of what you do say and what you don't say and whether somebody holds back. Also revealing of character and revealing of relationship. You know, particularly across a novel where you follow characters over a period of time. And the stories in my collection are linked so that you see different characters at different points in time. So inside jokes and references to the past or the way somebody pokes gentle fun of somebody else instead of saying, you know, "They were really close," it's obvious how close they were. One of my stories is a very conflicted brother relationship. And the two of them are very good at banter. And the banter goes on and on and on. And finally one of them says, you know, "Why are you here?" (laughs). You know, because—the banter is killing me. I mean, that is so just revealing about sort of the nature of their relationship and kind of conflict, but also, like, a deep caring between them.

Jennia: I feel like you just touched on it a little bit with that. But I wanted to also ask how can subtext add tension to your story?

Sue Mell: That's a great question (laughs). Let me thank you for a second. In particular, when the reader knows more than the character knows, you know, the reader has been following the history within a relationship or a story. And so when somebody touches on a sore subject, even if the other person in the scene doesn't necessarily, like, take the bait. The reader is like, "Oh,"

Jennia: Right.

Sue Mell: "not that again" (both laugh). You know, or, "This is not going to go well."

Jennia: Right. Or if the other character is just completely oblivious to it and they just continue going and you know that you're pushing that other character and they have no idea.

Sue Mell: Yeah. When I was in graduate school and really sort of thinking about dialogue and what you could do with it, I happened to be watching the TV show Justified, which is great writing and has terrific dialogue. And there was this extended scene between the main character and his ex-wife where they're kind of—They've been divorced for a long time. She's—I forget. Either with or about to marry somebody else. And they're sort of—The conversation is conciliatory. They're really kind of, like, finding their way. And then it's sort of what you said about that sigh. Something turns on a dime. Or there's a roll of an eye, or a raise of an eyebrow, or an oblique reference to something that happened in the past, or, like, "This won't be like what you did 20 years ago," and then suddenly things are, you know, going up in flames. And it can also be the reverse, I think. Can also be how in an argument somebody will, like, blurt out a truth that suddenly actually diffuses all . . .

Jennia: Ah, yes.

Sue Mell: Or you think that a relationship is going to end and then somebody says the one thing that they truly feel or that they've been afraid to say and that—you know, so I think creating tension but also just creating emotion within the scene.

Jennia: Yeah. I do think we see that in some really great dramatic pieces. I'm thinking of one by Ann Patchett—I can't remember the exact name now, but something where you have this one idea of a main character the entire time. Well, like, maybe until last 10 percent of the book. And then something comes out and it just reframes everything they've ever said and done and it gives you this new understanding of who they are and you realize how much of that was subtext. And you just didn't pick up on it because like the characters, you were fairly unaware that there was this other background piece.

Sue Mell: Right, right, right. That's a great example.

Jennia: Yeah, I think that's when it's really effectively done, when it changes how you, the reader, interpret that character and see them. And then you are able to then go back and look at their every single line of dialogue in this new way.

Sue Mell: Yes, exactly. And I think that that's, you know, how things are in life. I mean, we have fixed ideas about people, especially in families.

Jennia: Mhm.

Sue Mell: People fall into roles and kind of take polarized positions.

Jennia: Yes.

Sue Mell: And then all of a sudden there is an event or—or in a conflict or some kind of breakdown, or somebody says—you know, there's a truth revealed. And then you reframe and you go back and then you suddenly, like, hear all those echoes. So the subtext is really about creating and writing those echoes, finding them within the scene. So, you know, you, as the writer, are aware of the potential. I mean, and I don't think you can do it. I think you start and you write dialogue and you're listening and you know the characters, and then—Then you look at what's being said and what's really being felt and how much is communicated.

Jennia: Do you think that using an unreliable narrator can change how subtext is used or even how it's presented to the reader?

Sue Mell: Actually, I'm not sure how to answer that question (laughs). Because I sort of think that all narrators are unreliable.

Jennia: Well, to an extent, yeah. Definitely. There are just some that are farther along on the spectrum than others.

Sue Mell: But yeah, that are farther along then—Yeah, because the subtext is sort of buried below a level of manipulation, I think, with an unreliable narrator. Because an unreliable narrator, in a sense, is working their own agenda, which, actually, I think is sort of a crucial point, actually, that in dialogue—and this is where I think people make a mistake—is that in any conversation in life, each person has their own agenda and they have their own history, and they are going with whatever they're saying or whatever is the nature of the interaction. You know, things are not just, he said this, she said that. You know, people interrupt and people are, like—they want to hark back to their point that got lost earlier on, or they lose their way (laughs) like I'm doing right now. But so I think with an unreliable narrator, you have somebody that on the surface is saying one thing and is thinking something else. But then as a reader, there's a third level where you are aware of that disjuncture. And as a writer you can plant the seeds of something layered even further down. So yes, actually that's a great opportunity for depth and for surprise and for unexpected developments and for dialogue to go in a way that you don't expect.

Jennia: Yeah, I agree. Because it goes beyond just their own interpretation of events or what it is that they want. But like you said, that level of manipulation, and so they're probably more aware than a regular person would be of pursuing their own interests or their own desired outcome and that they're plotting all along as they do it. Rather [than] someone just sort of drifting through life. It's not that they're lacking in agency, but they don't have that same level of determination to reach whatever it is they're trying to reach, probably.

Sue Mell: Yes, yes, I agree. And I think that in a way that the other side of that it's also true that somebody who's particularly passive is also kind of unreliable. Can be unreliable in that they, you know, are numb, or, you know, are so unaware of what they're doing—

Jennia: Or might not even articulate their desires or might not even know what they are at that point anymore just because they've gone along with somebody else for so long.

Sue Mell: Right, right. And I do think—you know, I mean, there's a lot of, you know (laughs), negative things to be said about passive characters. But I think that, you know, in life people are passive or even the most determined person can be very passive about a particular area of their life. What's interesting to me, you know, emotionally and in terms of dynamics of a character and a story, are the places where that breaks down. Or doesn't, you know, where people change or they don't change.

Jennia: Right. Which is also so revealing about character, too, and tells you not just about them as a person and some other personality traits, but what does really, really matter to them and maybe what doesn't.

Sue Mell: And I think what resonates—I mean, universal is a big word, but I think everybody has those different feelings and different abilities to either move forward or to be stuck. In whatever context, you know, small or in a very big way. We all have our baggage (laughs).

Jennia: Yes, exactly. And that's what makes subtext so fun to work with—

Sue Mell: Yes, exactly.

Jennia: —because you do get to tease that out a bit. Well, do you think that setting plays a part in how you portray subtext?

Sue Mell: Yes.

Jennia: —So maybe actions versus internal dialogue? Yeah, I'd love to hear more about that.

Sue Mell: Absolutely. And it's actually—it's kind of one of my favorite things to work with is—Because what's so revealing is what you or a character notices at any particular time. I had a scene where it's a couple and their relationship is pretty rocky and there's a cat that gets lost, and they're looking for the cat, and they're walking, and it's starting to snow, it's cold. And they pass a church that they have—That they used to pass in those kind of sunnier times in their relationship. And on that church is a fundraising thermometer that has stayed stuck. You know, red—

Jennia: Ahh.

Sue Mell: —The red is still in the bulb. And somebody asked me whether that was intentional, whether I did that on purpose. And I had chosen that thermometer. I'd seen that thermometer, like, somewhere in life. And it wasn't on a church. It was, like, some community center or something. And there's also stuff in the story about gentrification and kind of failure of community as well as the relationship. And the thermometer appeared in the story, you know, as just my creating the reality of the setting. But then I saw it in the draft and then I took the point and had a character make, like, a starky remark about it—

Jennia: Ah.

Sue Mell: —that is kind of lighthearted, but for the reader, like, lands like a rock (Jennia laughs). Because you see the implications and the reflections. And there's also health issues in the story. So a thermometer, like, obliquely refers to medicine and health. So it's kind of like the way somebody tells a dream and then you look at those images and what do they—There's what it means to the person that had the dream. But there's also like, what do those images refer to? So I think setting is a great way to enhance the subtext of dialogue or just the emotional variation in a story in general or a plot line.

Jennia: Yeah, that was a perfect example for that (laughs). Well, do you think that subtexts could never come across as forced? So let's say someone was using a similar type of setting, but they just kept referring back to it over and over or something similar.

Sue Mell: Yeah. Can be heavy handed. You know, you don't want to hit their reader over the head. You know, I think it has to—especially if you write kind of naturalistic or realistic fiction, you want to create a sense of the world and a person's experience within it. And to constantly beat somebody over the head with an image, you know, you're gonna throw them out of the dream of the book. You're gonna throw them out of the dream of the page. You're gonna wake them up and they're gonna be like, "Why do they keep talking about the to-go cup.? Like what's up with that to-go cup?" You know . . . (laughs)

Jennia: Yeah. In a way—

Sue Mell: Yeah, whereas a to-go cup could actually be, like, meaningful in, like, a million different ways.

Jennia: Mhm. Yeah, I think in a way it's a bit like not using subtext at all, where either way you're handing too much to the reader. You're not allowing them to really read the story and take their own interpretation of it. You're not allowing them to participate in a way where they are making those connections on their own. Yeah, it's like that neon sign pointing to it. "Ah, look at this to-go cup!" (both laugh)

Sue Mell: And I think, too, that you raise a really, really good point, which is that you write a story or a novel, a scene, whatever you're working on, and you put—you know, obviously your heart and soul—but you put all these things into it. Like, all these different possible facets. But there's also the day that the person happens to read that page, that they're going to pick up that object or that you've created—Certain things are going to resonate for them and other things are just gonna slip past them.

Jennia: Right.

Sue Mell: And that's what makes, like, a book or any kind of writing so sort of transcendent in a way. Is—I mean, you hope there's the emotion or the effects that you hope to have on a reader with a given piece of work, but you want to leave space for the reader to have their own experience and to relate those things to their own life and to their own history.

Jennia: Yes, exactly. Well, do you have any suggestions for authors who so far have been maybe too light when it comes to inserting subtext into their stories? How they can maybe start doing this?

Sue Mell: I think the thing is to, like, write freely. You know, people talk about drafts or whatever. I actually, I'm not a writer. Like, I'm, like, a compulsive editor as I go, but at a certain point—Well, here's a great piece of advice that I got from Amy Hempel, which was to go back through your script—I mean your manuscript—and take out anything that is an empty gesture.

Jennia: Mmm.

Sue Mell: And a gesture can be a word, can be canned dialogue. Like, "She sighed." It's like unless she sighs in some very effective way—like you described with a woman in a restaurant—that's just an empty, "She sighed," "She nodded," "She poured the coffee," "She walked to the kitchen." So in a way, some of it has to do with pacing in a sense.

Jennia: Mhm.

Sue Mell: And where you take that thing out, where you've had something that was, quote, unquote, empty, that's your opportunity to put something significant or meaningful in there. When she pours the coffee like she's inadvertently chosen the chipped cup that belonged to whoever and makes her think of X, Y, and Z. And I think that's another place, too, that within dialogue and conversation, we are, at any time that we're talking, thinking of 100 different things. You know, where's the opportunity that something is said that refers back to or that resonates with a memory—

Jennia: Mhm.

Sue Mell: —either pertinent to that scene or in contrast with the scene? And that can also be a way to develop conflict looping back to what we were saying earlier. So the tip would be to take out some of those stitches and see what you can sew in there instead that gives, like, a more vivid tapestry.

Jennia: Yeah, I think that was a fantastic explanation.

Sue Mell: (laughs) Oh thank you!

Jennia: Because it also boils it down to something that I think is easier to identify rather than look for those moments. But we don't really know what those moments are sometimes, unless someone tells us. But, yeah, if we do look for, again, those things that aren't really serving a purpose for our story, they are there just to be there. Exactly. Take that. What can you do with it? What does this mean to this person? Again, with that chipped cup, you know, like, even who they give that cup to.

Sue Mell: Exactly. And I think that you—I mean, you need that scaffolding to start. You need to just get the people in the room or in the setting and have them talking and have whatever is happening between them or within the plotline of the story. You know, you have to just kind of get that down. But then you want to paint in the details and you want to, like, erase out things that don't support or don't—you know, just that goes back to that thing. Like, what else can you do? How can you do more until you've really flushed something out that feels true to life? Whatever that is, even if it's fantasy or SciFi, it has to feel true to a person's experience or what they can imagine of somebody else's experience.

Jennia: Yep, completely agree. Well, do you have any final thoughts or last advice you'd like to share?

Sue Mell: No, except to say that this was actually—it was a great conversation. Thank you!

Jennia: Aww, thank you! Thank you so much!

Jennia: And thank you for listening, and be sure to check out the show notes for additional information, including all of Sue's links. And if you enjoyed today's episode, I'd greatly appreciate it if you took the time to leave a rating or review wherever you download or listen. And please join me next week when Suja Sukumar will be sharing how she became a traditionally published author. Thanks again!