While a rhetorical question can focus
on a particular character’s inner-struggles, it should not be used instead of
actually showing the characters’
emotions and/or reactions.
Rhetorical questions shouldn’t be used as a substitution for
internal-dialogue or as the primary method for getting inside a character’s
head. There are much more effective and subtle ways to reveal a character’s
internal reaction, or wonderment, or curiosity about an event or conversation, rather than using an
internal-question.
When I critique a novice writer’s work, I often find that when they want to express some kind of uncertainty
or curiosity or self-doubt in a character, they will overuse rhetorical
questions. These interrogatory instances are a shallow way of establishing
tension, and letting the reader know an internal debate is taking place by
stating the obvious. The problem is that the misuse of rhetorical questions can
become intrusive if the character asks multiple questions on the same page, or
every time the author wants the reader to question something along with the
narrator, which can become blatantly repetitive.
While rhetorical questions can raise tension, only use them if necessary
when you cannot describe the reaction any other way.
Basically, a rhetorical question can be a way of telling.
Here are a few examples that should help you revise your own
writing…
SHALLOW: I looked at my best friend with
anxiousness. Why was Mary so mad at me? What had I done?
DEEP POV: I stared at my BFF and chewed
on my lip. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why Mary was so pissed. I
hadn’t done a damn thing!
SHALLOW: Kent went down the stairs and into the
basement and looked around the room that was dimly lit. What was Harold doing
in the basement? Kent wondered.
DEEP POV: Kent crept to the bottom step of the basement stairwell
and squinted into the dimness. Harold was up to something and Kent was going to figure out what.
SHALLOW: I went into the house very late past
my curfew. Would my mom be waiting up for me? Would I be grounded for a month?
I wondered.
DEEP POV: I snuck toward the house with my heart thumping. It was way past my curfew. If my mom was
waiting up, then I was gonna be grounded for a month!
SHALLOW: She’d told the wizard that she only
needed one wish, but he insisted on giving her three. Why would he do that? Was this some type of trick? Rainbow pondered
to herself. What would she do with three
wishes now?
DEEP POV: Rainbow scratched her head. She now had three wishes to
use instead only one. Yet she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad. Or
if it was some type of wizardly trick.
I have included a few longer examples to further illustrate
my point. (In the shallow example, the
questions are in italics.)
Please carefully examine these examples…
SHALLOW: I saw a ghostly shape in the doorway. I tried to hold back a silent scream
as I stepped backward. Why
was there paranormal activity going on in my new home? Was I being haunted by a
ghost?
DEEP POV: A ghost floated in the doorway. With a silent scream stuck in my throat, I backed up into the
wall. Okay, so there was some obvious paranormal activity going on in my new home. And it would
seem I was being haunted by a very scary-looking
ghost.
Please carefully examine these examples…
SHALLOW: Shelton had
asked me a lot of dumb questions on our first date. Where better for an interior decorator to live than in one the most
high-class cities in the United States? And what is it about guys that made
them give the coldshoulder to a woman who says that she likes to wander around
bookstores? Doesn’t anyone like to read anymore? Then he doesn’t even ask
me out again! Why even ask about my
hobbies if he wasn’t interested in dating me?
DEEP POV: I rolled my eyes and took
another sip of wine. My first date with Shelton hadn’t gone as well as I’d
hoped. All those dumb questions about why I had moved to the city, and about my
hobbies, and then snubbing me for being an avid reader.
I still
wasn’t sure what the point of asking me all those questions was—if the jerk
wasn’t even interested in a second date!
Too many rhetorical questions can deflate the tension of the moment. Writers should revise
them whenever possible so that they are not in the form of a question. One clever way to do that is, if there two or more characters
in a scene, then revise some of the inner-questions into actual dialogue. And
it’s an awesome way to add tension and create turn-paging prose!
Please carefully examine these examples…
SHALLOW: Damon shook his head. He deliberated to himself as he put down his keys angrily
on the table. Why
was Jane so insistent on going to dinner tonight? Didn’t she understand that he
was exhausted after a long day at work? Would it be too much to ask for Jane to
think about his needs first for a change?
DEEP POV: Damon threw
his keys down onto the table with a loud clang.
He was being ambushed by Jane again.
“Damn it, Jane! Why are you so insistent on going to
dinner tonight? Don’t you understand that I’m exhausted after a long day at
work?” Damon shook his head. “Would it be too much to ask that you put my needs first
for a change?”
Were the examples helpful?
Have you read a story were the author
endlessly pestered the reader with internal questions laced throughout the
narrative like an interrogator?
Or writers who are trying too hard to
show doubt about something that happens or they question another character’s
motives?
Or even strive to be funny or
colloquial by using lots of inner-questions? Or breaking the tension by
inserting questions every couple of paragraphs?
Were all those questions above getting
redundant?
Of course, they’re annoying!
Prose littered with rhetorical
questions can be really irritating for the reader. Consider it this way:
inner-questions are not real
questions, but rather a way to “tell” the reader what the character’s thought
process is in the form of a question.
The exception to this guideline is when
a writer wants to indicate sarcasm or humor. A few rhetorical questions laced
into the narrative can really enhance a scene and strengthen a humorous “voice”
when needed. And it can even be a necessity in some scenes where any other type
of sentence just wouldn’t fit the moment.
There are no hard-and-fast rules
regarding where or even when it’s appropriate to use a rhetorical question in
your narrative. But it becomes rather clear when it’s one of the instances of telling rather than actually “showing.”
Experienced writers should understand
that you need to do both, so I’m not stating that all rhetorical questions are
wrong, but in my opinion they should be used with caution. And definitely don’t
ask more than two rhetorical questions on the same page.
If you limit the use of internal
questions and only include them on occasion, then it’s just another tool for
your fiction writing toolbox.
Now I challenge writers to consider revising almost every
question into showing a character’s
doubt, confusion, unease, or surprise, etc., or turn it into actual dialogue whenever
possible.
Tell me in the comments how you feel about internal-questions.
Do too many bother you as a reader?
Do feel that you overuse them in early drafts?
Do have clever ways of revising them when polishing your manuscript?
For more tips on ways to stay in a Deeper POV, please check out my guidebook, THE WRITER'S GUIDE TO CHARACTER EXPRESSION, which is now on sale.
Rhetorical questions are one of the big things that bug me when reading others work, I always direct them to this page because the examples make a lot of sense!
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