You're halfway through your draft when everything grinds to a halt. Your characters are talking, but it feels hollow. They're saying exactly what they mean, and somehow that makes the scene completely lifeless. You know something's wrong, but you can't pinpoint what—so you stop writing altogether.

Here's what's likely happening: your dialogue lacks subtext, and without it, your scenes have nowhere to go. When characters say exactly what they're thinking, there's no tension to propel the story forward. But there's a specific technique that can break you out of this rut and get your story moving again.

The Surface-Beneath Framework

The Surface-Beneath Framework is a two-layer conversation structure that forces subtext into every exchange. Instead of letting characters speak their minds freely, you deliberately create a split between what they're saying (the surface) and what they're actually communicating (the beneath).

Here's how it works: for every line of dialogue, you write two things—the spoken text, and directly underneath it, what the character really means or wants. You keep both visible while drafting the scene. The magic happens when you use the "beneath" layer to inform character behavior, word choice, and reaction timing without ever speaking it aloud.

This isn't just noting character motivations in your outline. This is writing two complete scripts simultaneously—one that appears on the page, one that drives everything else.

Why This Unsticks Your Story

When you're stuck in the middle of a story, it's often because your scenes have become transactional. Characters meet to exchange information. They discuss the plot. They say what needs to be said to move things along. These scenes feel necessary but boring to write, so you stall.

The Surface-Beneath Framework forces you to acknowledge that no real conversation is purely transactional. Everyone has an agenda. Everyone's hiding something, even if it's just their uncertainty or their desire to appear competent. When you map both layers explicitly, you give yourself mechanical levers to pull that create tension, even in "simple" scenes.

Better yet, you often discover that what you thought was one scene is actually two different scenes fighting for space. Separating surface from beneath reveals which conversation you actually need to write.

How to Apply the Framework

Step 1: Identify the stuck scene

Choose a conversation that feels flat or a scene you've been avoiding. Don't pick something you haven't written yet—this technique is for diagnosing and fixing, not planning.

Step 2: Extract the dialogue

Copy just the dialogue lines into a new document. Strip out all action beats, descriptions, and dialogue tags. You should see a naked script.

Step 3: Add the beneath layer

Under each line of dialogue, add a new line in brackets or italics that states what the character actually wants or means. Be ruthlessly honest. The beneath layer might be:
- What they want the other person to do
- What they're afraid of revealing
- What they're really asking
- What they wish they could say
- What they're trying to avoid discussing

Step 4: Look for gaps

This is where the technique pays off. When surface and beneath align perfectly—when a character says exactly what they mean—you've found dead space. These are the lines making your scene feel inert. Mark them.

Step 5: Widen the gaps

Rewrite the surface layer to increase distance from the beneath layer. If a character means "I'm scared you'll leave," they might say "You've been working late a lot" or "Remember when we used to cook together?" The wider the responsible gap (not random deflection), the more interesting the exchange becomes.

The Framework in Action

Let's see this with a concrete example. Here's a stuck scene—a character asking their mentor for help:

Original version:

"I need your help with the investigation."

"I'm retired. I can't get involved."

"This case is connected to your old partner's death."

"Fine. I'll help."

This is pure information transfer. Now let's apply the Surface-Beneath Framework:

Surface: "I saw your name in an old case file from the Riverside warehouse fire."

[Beneath: I need your help desperately, but you've rejected everyone who's asked directly.]

Surface: "That was a long time ago. I don't remember much about it."

[Beneath: I can't survive reopening that wound, so I need to shut this down immediately.]

Surface: "The file listed two investigators. You and Marcus Chen. There's a notation that evidence was signed out the day before Chen died, but it was never logged back in."

[Beneath: I'm giving you permission to help by making this about Marcus instead of asking you directly. I researched what would make you unable to refuse.]

Surface: "Where's the investigation now?"

[Beneath: Damn it. You found my pressure point. I'm helping, but I'm angry that it worked.]

Notice what changed: the surface conversation is now about evidence and procedures, while the beneath layer is about whether help will be asked and given. The scene has two simultaneous arcs instead of one, which gives it propulsion.

Common Mistakes to Avoid

Making the beneath layer too obvious. If your beneath layer is "I love you" and your surface layer is "I brought you coffee, specifically the way you like it, from that place across town," you're writing subtext that hits like text. Leave room for readers to infer.

Creating random gaps. The distance between surface and beneath should be strategic. Characters deflect toward or away from something specific—their fears, their desires, their secrets. If the misdirection feels arbitrary, the scene stays stuck.

Forgetting non-verbal communication. Once you know the beneath layer, you can show it through hesitation, over-enthusiasm, subject changes, or physical displacement. Let the gap breathe through behavior.

Getting Unstuck and Moving Forward

The beauty of the Surface-Beneath Framework is that it's diagnostic and generative simultaneously. It shows you exactly why a scene isn't working, then gives you specific textual elements to modify. You're not waiting for inspiration—you're identifying gaps and widening them systematically.

When you're stuck in the middle of your story, try this with your last three scenes. Map what's surface and what's beneath. You'll likely find that your characters have been too honest with each other, leaving no room for discovery, misunderstanding, or tension.

Fix the gaps, and watch your story start moving again.