Why Your Dialogue Feels Like a Shouting Match (And How to Fix It)
Have you ever noticed how much of our fiction sounds like everyone's perpetually arguing? Character A wants something, Character B blocks them, they verbally spar, someone "wins"—rinse and repeat. It's exhausting to write, and honestly? It's getting pretty exhausting to read.
Here's the thing: real conversations don't always work that way. Sometimes people just... talk. They share observations, build on each other's ideas, or explore a topic together without trying to defeat each other. Yet when we sit down to write dialogue, we default to conflict because that's what we've been taught makes scenes "work."
But what if there was another way? Enter kishōtenketsu, a narrative structure from East Asian storytelling that doesn't rely on conflict at all. And surprisingly, it might be exactly what your dialogue needs.
What Is Kishōtenketsu, Anyway?
Kishōtenketsu (起承転結) is a four-act structure used in Chinese, Korean, and Japanese narratives, particularly in four-panel manga (yonkoma) and classical poetry. Instead of the Western conflict-crisis-resolution model, it follows a different pattern:
- Ki (起) - Introduction: Establish the scene, characters, or topic
- Shō (承) - Development: Expand on the introduction naturally
- Ten (転) - Twist: Introduce a new perspective or unexpected element
- Ketsu (結) - Conclusion: Bring everything together in a new light
Notice what's missing? Conflict. There's no antagonist, no obstacle to overcome, no battle to win. Instead, the structure creates interest through contrast and recontextualization. It's about the "aha!" moment rather than the "gotcha!" moment.
The Conflict Trap in Dialogue
Before we dive into solutions, let's talk about why conflict-driven dialogue often feels unnatural:
It makes everyone combative. When every conversation needs tension, characters become obstinate for no good reason. "Nice weather today" gets met with "Actually, I think it's terrible" just to keep things "interesting."
It exhausts your readers. Constant verbal sparring is like listening to people argue at the next table in a restaurant—initially engaging, but quickly draining.
It limits character relationships. If characters are always at odds, it's hard to show genuine connection, collaboration, or the kind of comfortable rapport that makes relationships feel real.
It doesn't reflect real communication. Think about your actual conversations. How many are truly adversarial versus exploratory, collaborative, or simply companionable?
Applying Kishōtenketsu to Dialogue
Now for the good stuff. Here's how to use kishōtenketsu to write dialogue that feels natural, engaging, and refreshingly conflict-free:
Ki: Establish the Conversational Ground
Start by grounding the conversation in something specific—an observation, a question, a shared experience. This isn't about dumping exposition; it's about creating a launching point.
Example:
"I've been thinking about what you said last week," Sarah said, watching the rain streak down the café window. "About how cities feel different in different weather."
You're not creating opposing positions. You're opening a door to exploration.
Shō: Develop Through Agreement and Expansion
This is where conflict-trained writers get uncomfortable. In the shō phase, let characters build on each other's thoughts rather than contradict them. They can add details, share related experiences, or explore implications together.
Example:
Marcus nodded. "Right? Like, sunny days make everywhere feel optimistic and open. But rain..." He gestured at the grey street outside. "Rain makes a city feel intimate. Like it has secrets."
See what happened? Instead of Sarah saying "I disagree" or Marcus deflecting, he's developing the idea. The conversation is moving forward through collaboration, not opposition.
Ten: Introduce the Twist or New Perspective
Here's where kishōtenketsu gets interesting. The ten isn't a conflict—it's a shift in perspective that reframes what came before. It might be:
- A personal revelation
- An unexpected connection
- A memory that changes the meaning
- A new angle on the topic
- A gentle observation that shifts the mood
Example:
Sarah was quiet for a moment. "My mom used to say she moved to Los Angeles because she was tired of secrets. She wanted a place where everything was visible, obvious." She smiled slightly. "I never understood what she meant until just now."
The conversation just turned—but not into conflict. Instead, it moved from general observation to personal meaning, recontextualizing everything that came before.
Ketsu: Resolve Through Synthesis
The conclusion brings the conversational threads together, but not through someone winning or losing. Instead, the dialogue arrives somewhere new—a shared understanding, a deeper connection, or a moment of mutual recognition.
Example:
Marcus reached across the table and squeezed her hand briefly. "Maybe that's why you're here in the rain with me instead of somewhere sunny."
"Maybe," Sarah said. "Or maybe I just like secrets after all."
The conversation has come full circle but transformed. We started with weather and cities; we ended with character revelation and connection.
Making It Practical: Three Tips
1. Let characters be curious, not combative. Replace "No, you're wrong" with "That's interesting because..." Replace "I disagree" with "I never thought of it that way" or "That reminds me of..."
2. Use the twist for insight, not conflict. Your ten moment should illuminate, surprise, or deepen—not create an argument. Think revelation, not reversal.
3. Don't confuse "no conflict" with "no stakes." These conversations can still matter deeply to your characters. The stakes are internal and relational rather than adversarial.
The Bottom Line
Kishōtenketsu isn't about eliminating all conflict from your writing—sometimes characters absolutely should argue. But it offers an alternative when you need dialogue that reveals character, builds relationships, and feels genuinely human without the exhausting ping-pong of constant opposition.
The next time you sit down to write a conversation, try following the four-part flow: establish, develop, twist, conclude. Let your characters explore ideas together rather than fight over them. You might be surprised how much more natural—and engaging—your dialogue becomes.
After all, some of the most memorable conversations aren't battles to be won. They're moments of connection, discovery, and shared understanding. And those are the conversations your readers will remember long after the book is closed.