3 . During a judging period for a recent short story contest, I started thinking a lot about dialogue tags. Because in many submissions characters didn’t “say” a thing. They shouted, they inquired, they assumed. Some characters screamed while others murmured. But no one “said” anything. And I started wondering why.

Why do we tell beginner writers to avoid creative dialogue tags in the first place? Why do we insist that characters should stick to “said,” “asked,” and the occasional “sighed?” And, if the advice is so of-repeated, why are writers still unable to resist the siren call of weep, scream, snap, or laugh?

The more I thought about it, the more I understood the temptation. We’re always encouraged to use strong, actionable verbs in our prose. Why walk when you can skip or wander? Why cry when you can sob or weep? Why wouldn’t we reach for exciting verbs instead of mild-boring dull-blah said? Why couldn’t each verb be a tiny sparkling gem in its own right?

The problem, I think, is that every jewel needs a setting to become something more than the sum of its parts. Without something to provide structure, a collection of the world’s most glorious diamonds would still only amount to a heap of rocks.

And a dialogue tag should never, ever be the diamond in any given sentence.

Dialogue is your diamond, friends. When we read your work, your dialogue should be so bright, so sparkling, so lifelike, so wonderfully realistic that our brains “hear” each line instead of merely reading it. We don’t need to be told a character is shouting — we can sense it in the way they spit out words, clench fists, or storm from the room.

A dialogue tag is a mere signpost along the narrative journey, gently indicating who said what. It’s part of a story’s experience, but it’s not part of the story itself, nor should it be treated as such. Dialogue tags are similar to lighting in a Broadway play: without it, the audience would have no idea what was going on, but it usually strives to shine without calling too much attention to itself.

What’s more, readers may not initially imagine a particular line being “sobbed.” When we reach the end of a sentence and find out our leading lady has actually sobbed instead of whispered, it pulls us right out of the story. We pause. We reread the line. We adjust our understanding and begin again. But that wonderful momentum when we’re fully immersed in the scene, holding our breath to find out what our heroine says next, is lost.

Creating a successful work of fiction is about giving the reader all the materials they need to build your fictional world in their mind and not a scrap more. Readers need believable dialogue. They need voices so compelling that they pop right off the page and into our ears. And if you’ve created dynamic characters who speak words we can really hear, you will never need to tell us how something was said.

Senior Editor

5 . What’s the effect of poetry on our brain? Scientists have been investigating the neuronal (神经元的) connections and brain circuits that can work in the reading of poetry for some time. And, even though the research has only just begun, the results are already fascinating.

Poetry has the oldest recorded texts in literature. Although it’s impossible to say exactly when it began to be used in the oral tradition, we dare to say that it’s accompanied humanity forever. This gives us an idea of the impact that poetic language can have on our emotional and cognitive state. The emotional response to literature in general shares areas of activation with music. However, more areas of the right hemisphere (半球) seem to be related to poetry. The researchers measured the goosebumps resulting from the tingling (强烈感受) sensation in reading poetry. This type of sensation has also been proven to result from music. However, the tingling sensations produced by poetry activate different areas of the brain compared to those activated by music.

Dr. Eugen Wassiliwizky’s team collected data on behavioral responses in people reading or listening to poetry. They proved that poetry is capable of causing emotional responses and rich emotional experiences. In addition, a poem expresses the poet’s ideas. From a psychological view, poetry is a game of language that manages to group words in a surprising way. We could compare this with how a chef combines ingredients that seem impossible to combine, producing extraordinary results. Poetry is based on rules of construction. It sets up a rhythm, which then breaks, before finally returning to it. The play on the meanings of words, sometimes several meanings in just one word, is extremely intellectually inspiring. We can read a poem a thousand times, and still find its new meanings.

Generally, our passage through the wonderful world of poetry is cut short by a rather reduced exposure during childhood and the overly analytical approach of this literary genre (类型), which is given in most schools. Although, the studies that experts have conducted on poetry get a lot of interesting results, poetry still holds a mystery that science hasn’t yet been able to investigate. For example, why a perfect cadence (抑扬顿挫) and rhythm can lift the spirit of people is the new challenge for the research.

6 . In an effort to keep a little poetry in my life long after National Poetry Month passed, I decide to read at least one poem a day after scanning the newspaper over breakfast. Thanks to the free online poetry-in-your-inbox services, it’s been an easy resolution（解决办法）to keep.

Poem-a-Day was started during National Poetry Month in 2016, and it focuses on new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends.

Ted Kooser offers a similar service through his American Life in Poetry Series, though it’s a weekly, rather than a daily. Kooser briefly introduces each week’s poem, offering a little bit of information about the selection, the writer, and books where readers can turn to if they want more work from the featured poet.

Reading at least one poem a day has been like an intellectual vitamin, giving me a small dose（剂量）of literature even on busy days when I can’t get to the novels and non-fiction on my desk beside the bed. Another benefit has been connecting with a lot of talented poets I wouldn’t otherwise know about. Poetry being what it is, even the best talents in the style can work in relative obscurity（朦胧）. Maybe the biggest benefit of reading a poem every morning has been the chance to see the familiar in new ways.

Last April, I wondered if I could remind myself to read a poem each morning. Now, deep in summer, I wonder if I could ever do without it.

Angel