To start this chapter, let's play a game. I'm going to say a word, and you're going to write down the first thing you think of. Ready?
Imagine.
Craftsman.
Tape.
Floccinaucinihilipilification.
Island.
Why did I make you do that exercise?
Well, today we will be talking about internal monologue--the inner thoughts that characters ramble in their narration. In first person, particularly, this is essential; your character's internal monologue literally guides the story.
So, what exactly is internal monologue?
Internal monologue is your character's thoughts and feelings, written out for the reader to understand. For example, you will see in a story:
I gasped at the waterfall. It was beautiful!
She cried at the waterfall. It was ugly!
They laughed at the waterfall. It was so average!
We can see a bit of what the character is thinking from the narration! We call this internal monologue. Now, the thing about internal monologue is that we do not just include everything the character is thinking.
Why? Well.
Let's say I'm your protagonist. It's my first day at school. If you want me to write down every single thing I am thinking, in the order I am thinking it, it's going to look something like this:
Something stinks. Is it me? No it's not me. But what if it is me? How do people sniff and check without looking like a monkey? Oh there was once a show about a kid who went to school with a monkey. What was it's name? The jingle is stuck in my head. My gym partner's a monkey? My gym partner's a monkey... my gym partner's a monkey...my gym partner's a monkey... okay, where do I even go? I'm lost. This place is so big. Um. Ok. Ok. Don't panic. Just ask someone for help. And she just walked away. This isn't good. My gym partner's a monkey... My gym partner's a monkey... the song is stuck in my head. I think I will ask that person for help because she smiled at me. Where am I even supposed to go? VPAC? Oh my pants are way too tight. Ouch. I wonder if I'm walking weird. I wonder if people are staring at me because I'm walking weird. Let me see how other people walk. Everyone else is walking normally. Why do... hips move like that? Do my hips also move like that? Am I staring at a person's butt right now? That's really embarrassing, I hope no one thinks I'm a creep. Do other people have these same thoughts? Is anyone staring at my butt? Oh my god--
If you managed to read all of that, welcome to my brain during my first year of high school all those years ago.
Now, that paragraph may be fun and fine as a standalone if you are trying to highlight the anxieties of starting at a new school, but if your whole story is written in that format? You may want to revise.
Think about your own thoughts. You will notice that you rarely describe the locations to yourself, because there is simply no need to; your brain is automatically and unconsciously doing all of that processing. You don't think to yourself, "The door is brown. The lights are off." Unless there is something really striking or different, you rarely think about these thing; you just know them.
However, as an author, your readers cannot know these things--they are not your character, and they are not in your story! So it is important to change your internal monologue to something more immersive and inviting.
Additionally, my paragraph above was very frantic and chaotic. Granted, I'm sure not everyone also has that same madness that I have. However, the human brain has weird connections everywhere, and often, our thoughts are not at all cohesive. They are jumpy, random, and rely on a lot of contextual/historical experiences that we have gone through.
Once again, that is not ideal for your reader! They don't need to be reading a story that jumps around like a person bouncing on a giant plate of potatoes that have been set on fire.
So how do we write internal monologue then, while making it cohesive, engaging, and immersive?
Here are some tips!
Internal Monologue is MORE than what is inside a person's head.
It is the outside as well!
If you are in third person, you have it easy. You can just talk about the description from an outsider perspective, without it coming across as internal monologue.
Ladner climbed up the ladder. Above him, the stars--cloaked in thick darkness--winked.
However, if you are in first person:
I climbed the ladder. Above me, the stars--cloaked in thick darkness--winked.
A person doesn't usually think these thoughts. They don't usually think 'the stars winked at me' or 'the stars are cloaked in thick darkness'. However, because you are introducing your reader to your world, you need to make sure you are introducing the setting through the narration--which also happens to be your character's voice the whole time.
Basically, include the setting. Please.
Remove Unnecessary Verbs.
We can fall into this trap a lot:
I saw a beautiful waterfall and heard the faint screaming of angry mermaids coming from beneath the ripples. I thought it sounded like a dying lizard.
Or, even in third person:
She saw a beautiful waterfall and heard the faint screaming of angry mermaids coming from beneath the ripples. She thought it sounded like a dying lizard.
At first glance, they seem perfectly fine. However, when this style of voice is used too much and without purpose, it just feels really clunky and redundant. It also makes your story lose a sense of immediacy and tension. By removing them, you have the opportunity to give yourself stronger language. So consider:
The faint screaming of angry mermaids echoed from beneath the ripples. They sounded like dying lizards.
You can even add your own voice to it!
The faint screaming of angry mermaids echoed from beneath the ripples. I rolled my eyes. Perhaps their constant moaning was haunting and terrifying to the untrained ear, but for those of us that have had to listen to them every freaking day? Honestly, they just sounded like dying lizards.
You can create that sense of intimacy and immediacy between you and your reader by removing unnecessary language, and that gives you more opportunity to build character and make the voice seem more prevalent!
Similarly, try not to start every sentence with I/She/He/They/Protagonist Name. It can get super overbearing.
I walked to the door. I was scared. I still twisted the doorknob to find what was inside. I found a newspaper. I gasped as the newspaper opened its eyes. I didn't even know newspapers had eyes!
See how it gets repetitive, and makes the internal monologue sound a bit robotic? Avoid, avoid, avoid!
Stay In The Moment.
When we are telling a story to our friends, it is very different to story telling in a novel. For example, if I told you a story about my laser appointment:
Okay, so I went to my appointment yesterday. I was literally undressed on the table, and she was pointing a laser gun at my intimate parts, and she just randomly decides to tell me that she feels like she knows everything about me? Like what? What could she see down there?
That's how I would tell the story to my friends over coffee. But as a writer? That's just too rushed, and doesn't build for any tension. It doesn't take my friends into the scene, and it doesn't really make the experience all that immersive. However, if I fleshed it out:
I thought being naked on a table was bad.
But the cold sting of the metal on my butt was worse. And don't get me started on that awful, stale smell of burning hair.
The clinician--Lindsay the Laser Lady--hadn't uttered a single word to me. Instead, once I was on the table, she readied her laser gun, pressing the nozzle against my upper thigh.
This was going to hurt. My friend warned me yesterday. But it would all be over within a few minutes. A few quick zaps on my hoo-ha. That's all.
Lindsay the Laser Lady frowned suddenly. Her eyes were still trained on my intimate parts.
"You know," she suddenly said, lowering her gun, "I just feel like I know so much about you now."
Wait.
What?
This is based on a true story of something that happened to me yesterday. She looked at my hoo-ha, told me she knew a lot about me, and then proceeded to laser me. As it turns out, it was because my friend had already told Lindsay the Laser Lady all about me before my own appointment. Go figure.
Anyways, can you see the clear difference between the two recaps of the same story? For the purposes of a story, you need to take your reader into that moment, instead of brushing over key plot points.
Know Your Voice.
Your character's internal monologue needs to match their personality, class, and background. Everything needs to align. You won't have a character tell the reader that the waterfall "looked like shit" if they are too scared to swear in general.
Additionally, while it is okay to have phrases that your character uses a lot in their internal monologue, you don't want to repeat it too much to a point where it gets annoying. Because it does get annoying. I have a friend who says 'slay' at the end of every sentence. I'm so close to showing her what slay actually means.
Make sure your character's voice is clear and distinct. This is especially important if you are writing in first person. First person is a story driven by internal monologue and your character's voice! If your character's voice is bland or inconsistent, then your story will also crumble.
Blind Spots.
Your character does not know everything. So, if we go back to waterfall example:
I gasped at the waterfall. It was beautiful! But my best friend, Lindsay the Laser Lady, thought it was ugly.
In the example above, we see something not quite right--the assumption that Lindsay thought the waterfall was ugly. Your protagonist cannot read anyone else's mind. If your protagonist should not know something, do not include it in the internal monologue or their narration. That, or find ways to show it.
I gasped at the waterfall. It was so beautiful! Lindsay, however, scowled at it. I bet she thought it was ugly--the same way she thought my legs were ugly when she tried to laser them.
There! Now we are just showing the reader that we are making an assumption about how Lindsay feels, but we aren't 100% sure. And that's exactly how it is for us, humans! We can make assumptions about how others around us feel, but we can't know for sure. I can guess that some of you are a bit horrified about me writing about my intimate parts, but for all I know, you guys could actually be giggling about it. We all have blind spots!
Don't Get Trapped Inside.
That sounds ominous. Let me explain!
Sometimes, I have read stories where the author really wants to show the reader what is going on through their protagonist's head. So they do, which is great!
But then it goes on. And on. And on.
By the time you have finished the internal monologue, your bones have started to decay and dinosaurs have returned to the planet. Oh, and your great--great-grandchild just got married.
Internal monologue is fantastic in helping engage with readers, and it really helps us understand why your characters are responding the way they are. For example:
I saw a basketball and cried.
From that sentence, your reader will be confused from the rapid pacing and lack of context. Therefore, with some internal monologue:
The basketball rolled towards me.
Not just any basketball. It was the basketball that had eaten my cat last week.
Why was it here now? Was eating my cat not enough to satisfy it? Was I next?
I didn't know. And I sure as heck wasn't about to ask it.
Instead, I did what any other twelve-year-old would have done if they, too, were about to be attacked by the basketball that had eaten their cat last week: I cried.
Obviously, the idea itself is too ridiculous for most readers to not be confused here, but the writing itself is less jarring--we can clearly see why the protagonist is crying because of the internal monologue running through the character's head.
However.
You do not want to get trapped inside your character's head and let it go for ages and ages. It makes the story lose impact, lose tension, and lose momentum. Let's look at it with another ridiculous example:
The basketball opened its jaws before her.
She knew, then, that she was a goner. It was going to swallow her, limb by limb. She would never see her sister again. Or her parrot.
It was over for her.
Suddenly, just as the basketball clamped down on her arm, Lindsay the Laser Lady's voice pierced through the air.
"I'm coming for you, Olive Oil!"
As you can see, the genre is meant to be comedy. Now, let's try this example again, but this time, we get stuck in the character's head:
The basketball opened its jaws before her.
She knew, then, that she was a goner. It was going to swallow her, limb by limb. She would never see her sister again. Or her parrot. She would never grow old and have her own children. She would never drink another cup of tea again. She would never be able to hold a proper funeral for her cat that had been eaten by the same basketball that was about to eat her. She would never be able to pay her telephone bill on time. She would never be able to travel to Europe. She would never be able to play a new sport for the first time. She would never be able to buy those sunglasses she had been looking at. She would never get to write another word in her fancy calendar. She would never get to paint another frog. She would never get to eat a glue stick. She would never get to listen to mermaid music. She would never get to use a credit card. She would never get to lick honey from a spoon. She would never get to snap a ruler in half. She would never get to pee in her own bathroom ever again.
It was over for her.
Suddenly, just as the basketball clamped down on her arm, Lindsay the Laser Lady's voice pierced through the air.
"I'm coming for you, Olive Oil!"
See that part that dragged on? Now imagine that dragging on for another page or so. Some authors do drag their internal monologue for that long, not realising that they have actually temporarily paused the story, and therefore the tension is gone. For the example, it doesn't work too awfully because there wasn't much tension to begin with--it is a bit comedic. But if you were writing a serious story with actual action in it, and you paused all of it to ramble about how the character is feeling, your reader will probably be a bit bored and want you to hurry along with the action.
Purpose.
For every inclusion of internal monologue, think about the purpose behind it. Is it there to help the reader understand the character? Is it to foreshadow? Is it to create an unreliable narrator?
Further, think about the purpose of your whole story.
Is your story a whimsical tale about living, laughter, and loving? Or is it an intense sci-fi that has urgency and immediacy? Because that also should affect the way your monologue is written.
Your Relationship with your Reader.
I can't believe I actually have to explain this, but because I have been asked in the past: no, I do not mean that you're supposed to ask your readers out on a date.
When it comes to internal monologue, think about your character's relationship with your reader. Does your protagonist know they are telling a story, allowing for fourth wall breaks and banter? Or is it more traditional, where your protagonist is just going through events of a story as they are happening?
Or are you making a stylistic choice, and your narrator is actually an elder writing a story for all his young disciples--or your narrator is an angel, writing about their experiences in heaven to persuade the reader to be evil and join Satan in hell, instead?
Think carefully about your relationship with your reader when you write your internal monologue, to ensure the voice is consistent throughout your story.
Read + Practise.
As stated for the seventy-seventh time in this story, it is so important to read and practise writing internal monologue! I've said it heaps of times, but if you read, you can see what you like and what you don't like when other authors write internal monologue. You can see what will best resonate with your story, as well!
And the best way to become a better writer of internal monologue is to practise writing it! Show it to your friends, your family, or a reviewer and see what they think about the flow and engagement.
Honestly, this chapter went for way longer than I thought it would. It turns out, I had a lot to say!
If you're looking for more examples of internal monologue, you can honestly look through this whole story! Realistically, this whole story is an internal monologue of me either complaining or trying to give advice about writing. Oops?
For the next chapter, someone has asked me about my thoughts on open-ended stories. Considering I just read one not that long ago, I think it's about time I finally talk about it!
However, I'd also love to hear your perspectives on this topic! What do you think about open-ended stories? Love them? Hate them? Want to marry them and then brutally drown with them as an incredibly tragic love story? Let me know!