Local Color

“Local Color” is a term I learned in 8^th grade while reading “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by Mark Twain.  He made his characters speak like they were African-American or like they were real southerners or drunkards.  He wrote how they spoke – and that’s what Local Color is.  It’s writing in the dialect and jargon of a certain type of people or place.  You can have any kind.  Like for instance, in Lancaster County, you could do the local color of Pennsylvania Dutch.  You could do pirate talk, or an accent from another country.  You could write like it’s a computer geek talking or Western style.  There are many options, two of which I give an example of below.

SCOTTISH:

“Look, Lindsay, th’ sheep got oot!” gasped Mairi, her eyes widenin’ at th’ sight o’ Akir MacNeil’s sheep runnin’ loose through th’ streets, who must hae escaped from their pen as MacNeil let them oot tae take them up th’ ben for grazin’.  They ran all aboot, thes way an’ ’at, comin’ closer an’ closer tae whaur we sat. 

                Flora screamed as a sheep began tae nibble at her frock buttons.  Ah began tae laugh as Iain was also harassed by th’ poor hungry sheep.  Iain an’ Flora glowered at me, no happy aboot bein’ laughed at, an’ MacNeil roonded his hungry sheep up an’ herded them up tae their grazin’ spot on th’ ben.

                Flora glared at th’ sheep as they walked off.  Ah smiled as Ah thought aboot th’ sheep ’at had a belly full o’ buttons an’ Flora’s torn frock. 

TRANSLATION:

                “Look, Lindsay, the sheep got out!” gasped Mairi, her eyes widening at the sight of Akir MacNeil’s sheep running loose through the streets, who must have escaped from their pen as MacNeil let them out to take then up the mountain for grazing.  They ran all about, this way and that, coming closer and closer to where we sat.

                Flora screamed as a sheep began to nibble at the dress buttons.  I began to laugh as Iain was also harassed by the poor hungry sheep.  Iain and Flora glowered at me, not happy about being laughed at, and MacNeil rounded his hungry sheep up and herded them up to their grazing spot on the mountain. 

                Flora glared at the sheep as they walked off.  I smiled as I thought about the sheep that had a belly full of buttons and Flora’s torn frock.

GANGSTER:

                “Jay, do they have guns?” I whispered.  He shrugged.  Black-man laughed. 

                “Naw, we don’t throw lead; we’re more partial to shivs.”  Black-man whipped out something shiny from his pocket with a zing.  My eyes froze on what he held.

                “A switchblade!” Jay exclaimed.  He shoved me further behind him. 

                Black-man laughed some more.  “What are you, the weak sister?” he smirked at me.  “Where do you think the name of the eatin’ place came from?”

                “A chain restaurant based on gangsters?” Jay asked.

                “Naw, The Switch is only a hash house.  The real stuff’s near our part of town.  Care to visit?”

                “No…not – not really,” I answered, stepping back into my place beside Jay.

                “Actually, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

                “Oh, so now the two rubes are gonna grill us?” Black-man and his cronies laughed.  I really hated their laugh.  “Fine.  Ask away.”

                “Where are we?”

                “Read the signs, kid.  Point Pleasant, Gapico.  Welcome to your very first nightmare.”

                “Are we really in a video game?”

                “You better believe it, kid.  And you gotta get out alive or you’re not going home again.  Get my drift?  You gotta beat all the wrong numbers in Gapico or you’re gonna get knocked off.  And guess who you gotta beat first?  Me, the one who just showed the blade – Charlie Black.”  The evil grin expanded on his face.  “And we got our guns all over the place.  Hoodlums, that is, to you.  Boy, will you be duck soup.”

                “What is it we have to do?” Jay’s face was tense and I was beginning to feel a bit like they were tightening the screws, to use their lingo.

                “On this level?  You gotta get the map from us.  In our part of town.  And if you two dudes are wise heads, you’ll get that map before you both end up stiffs in a wooden kimono.  And yeah, that means what you think it does.”            

I’m sure you got the drift of all that, right?  But they are both fine examples of local color.  Why don’t you try writing a story in local color and see how it goes?