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How to Write Subtext: Every Detail is an Argument

August 21, 2018
HOW TO WRITE SUBTEXT:
every Detail is An Argument

— a podcast episode —

Subtext is the unspoken meaning behind dialogue, character actions, and setting details. Instead of directly stating a character’s personality or emotions, skilled writers use small, intentional cues—like clothing, posture, or word choice—to subtly communicate deeper truths.

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Table Of Contents How to Write Subtext: The Hidden Power Behind Every Great Story Formatted and Edited Transcript Talk to Us! Share This Resource How to Write Subtext: The Hidden Power Behind Every Great Story

Subtext is the lifeblood of compelling fiction. It’s what makes dialogue crackle with hidden meaning, scenes hum with unspoken tension, and characters feel like real people with layered emotions. But writing subtext is one of the most challenging skills for writers to master—how do you say something without actually saying it?

In this episode of Inside Creative Writing, we explore the art of subtext: what it is, how it works, and the techniques you can use to make your stories richer, deeper, and more engaging. We’ll look at how great writers use subtext in dialogue, setting, and character actions to create layers of meaning beneath the surface of their words.

If you’ve ever struggled with making your scenes feel natural and nuanced—or if your dialogue feels too on-the-nose—this episode will give you the tools you need to master the art of what’s left unsaid.

By the end of this episode, you will…
  • Understand what subtext is and how it operates beneath the surface of a story.
  • Learn how to write dialogue that feels real by incorporating hidden meaning and unspoken truths.
  • Discover how setting and small details can subtly reveal character emotions.
  • Gain practical techniques to add layers of depth to your writing without making it feel forced.
  • See why readers love to “read between the lines”—and how you can make that work to your advantage.

Listen to the full episode or skim the edited transcript with relevant links below.

One of the most powerful tools in a writer’s arsenal is subtlety—letting readers discover meaning rather than handing it to them outright. At Inside Creative Writing, we specialize in practical, hands-on storytelling techniques that help writers build immersive, engaging fiction. Let’s dive into the transcript.

Formatted and Edited Transcript Everything Is an Argument

My goal today is to change your worldview. At first, it’s going to sound like kind of a negative worldview, but stay with me—I think we’ll discover by the end that it’s a worldview that will not only change the effectiveness of your writing, but it might also make you a better processor or reader of the real world around you.

So today, I’m going to try to convince you that everything is an argument.

What Does It Mean That Everything Is an Argument?

Back in episode 18—the one about rhetorical devices—we talked a little about this concept of everything being an argument. In case you haven’t listened to that episode, or maybe it’s just been a while, let’s start by quickly reviewing it so we have that concept fresh in our minds before we explore another aspect of it today.

I’m borrowing the title I’m working with here—“Everything’s an Argument”—from a textbook I use when I teach persuasive writing at the college level. That class is all about academic writing, not the kind of writing we typically talk about here on the podcast. But today, we’re taking some elements from the world of persuasive writing and bringing them into creative writing to discover some really important techniques that will strengthen how you build characters, construct scenes, and bring tension and conflict into your stories.

Here’s the basic idea: everything around you—at least, everything created or manipulated by humans—is making an argument of some sort.

And when I say argument, I don’t mean fighting or debating. I mean anything that is communicating an idea or opinion to other humans. For our purposes, an argument isn’t a fight. It’s simply an attempt to convince someone else to believe something.

Once you accept this definition, it’s easier to accept the premise that everything is an argument.

The Clothes You Wear Are an Argument

Think about the clothes you’re wearing right now. Whether you were conscious of it or not, you were thinking about how you wanted other people to see you when you put them on today. Maybe you wanted people to think you’re laid-back and cool, so you’re wearing a hoodie, shorts, and sandals. Maybe you wanted others to see you as professional, so you put on a suit.

Even if you didn’t give any thought to what you wore today—just threw something on—you probably did think about it when you bought those clothes. In some way, you considered how others would interpret your outfit. In essence, the clothes you wear are an argument attempting to influence others’ opinions of who you are as a person.

This is true for your characters as well. When writing fiction, you should be thinking about how to write subtext into every detail, including clothing choices. What your character chooses to wear is an argument in itself, a piece of the underlying message they send to the world.

Even a Tree Can Be an Argument

Some people challenge me on this idea. They look out the window, point to a tree, and say, That tree isn’t an argument!

But is that true?

If it’s a tree that was manipulated in some way by a human—planted there intentionally, not just naturally growing—then yes, that tree is an argument. Someone made a decision about it: what kind of tree it should be, why it was chosen, where it was planted. Maybe it was picked for beauty, for shade, or even for its fruit. The point is, there was intention behind it.

That tree is making an argument about the environment around it. Maybe it’s arguing for sustainability. Maybe it’s part of an effort to make a space more welcoming. Either way, a choice was made, and that choice is sending a message.

The Hidden Arguments in Everyday Objects

Here’s an example I use on the first day of my classes to throw my students off a little bit: I bring in a toilet seat.

I introduce it to the class as a valuable piece of art. If you’re familiar with Marcel Duchamp’s 1917 piece of “readymade” art called The Fountain, you might already see where I’m going with this. But maybe not.

So, is a cheap toilet seat an argument?

Think about it. Someone designed that thing. Someone chose the curve of the edges, the contours of the shape. They chose the color. They chose the gloss of the paint. At least in part, it was designed to make an argument—to influence someone’s opinion about it or about the person who installs it in their home or business.

This is what I mean when I say everything is an argument. Every object manipulated by humans is, in some way, an attempt to influence how others perceive it.

If we understand this, we can start to use it in our writing. When considering how to write subtext into a scene, it’s not just about dialogue. The objects around a character—their desk, their car, their coffee cup—are arguments about who they are.

Can Anything Disprove This Idea?

I’ve had a lot of students try to come up with examples that disprove this theory, but so far, we’ve always found a way to show that the thing they thought of is still a form of argument.

If you think you’ve got an example that disproves the theory, I’d love to hear it! You can share it with us over at the Talk to Us link on BradReed.com.

But even if you do find an exception, I think we can agree that virtually everything you see in the world is someone’s argument—someone’s attempt to influence the way we see them or their creation.

Why This Matters in Writing

So, what difference does any of this make when we’re sitting down to write a story?

The difference is twofold:

We, as humans, are expert interpreters of intention, whether we realize it or not. As writers, we can use the smallest details to create powerful effects when we choose them intentionally.

Let’s start with the first point.

Humans Are Natural Interpreters of Intention

Even if you’ve never thought about how everything manipulated by humans is an argument, you’ve been operating in the world as if you knew this all along.

Take job interviews, for example. Studies have shown that first impressions are formed within seven seconds of meeting someone. By that point, you haven’t even gotten past the handshake and introduction, yet judgments have already been made.

Why?

Because we are constantly reading arguments.

Your clothes in a job interview make an argument.
Your expression makes an argument.
Your posture makes an argument.
Even your scent—whether from cologne, soap, or lack of either—makes an argument.

This happens before you even say a word. Arguments are being made, and they are being read.

Settings as Arguments

We don’t just read arguments in people. We do the same thing with places.

Say you’re in a new city, looking for a place to eat. The restaurants around you are all making arguments.

Think about the businesses surrounding a restaurant. If it’s next to a luxury hotel, that’s a very different argument than if it’s next to a rundown dive bar.

Think about the cars in the parking lot. A restaurant full of luxury cars is making a different argument than one full of motorcycles.

Think about the sign out front. Is it clean and professional, or is it old and barely legible?

All of these details communicate something to you, and you instinctively interpret them. You’re reading the arguments being made by the setting.

Using This in Your Writing

As writers, we can hijack this overwhelming human desire to interpret arguments.

It starts with looking at everything in your story as intentional.

Your characters don’t just wear clothes because it was the first thing that popped into your head. They, just like real people, have chosen their outfits to send a message about themselves—whether they’re aware of it or not.

Your readers will be interpreting those choices. They’ll be reading into what your character wears, what they drive, where they live.

This is where how to write subtext becomes so important. Instead of telling the reader outright that a character is arrogant, let the character’s choices—their clothing, their car, the way they take up two parking spaces—do the arguing for them.

A Case Study: Writing a Jerk

Let’s say you have a character named Dave, and you want to show that he’s a jerk.

If you just write, “Dave was the biggest jerk in the world,” you’ve done all the work for your reader. That’s telling, not showing.

A better option is to let your reader figure it out through details. Maybe Dave always parks his car across two parking spaces in a crowded lot. That’s one small sentence, but it tells us everything we need to know.

Maybe Dave walks into his office without acknowledging anyone, leaving his sunglasses on until he gets behind his desk.

Or maybe Dave calls his employees “underlings.” Because, of course, Dave would use that word.

Each of these details is an argument. And because they’re subtle, they feel real. Readers trust details far more than they trust outright statements.

Revising for Argument

This is a huge part of revision for me.

In my first drafts, I don’t worry about this too much. Characters might drive my car because it’s the first thing that comes to mind. They might wear jeans and a t-shirt just because that’s easy. If they go out to eat, maybe they just go to Applebee’s.

But when I revise—once I know my characters deeply, once I understand their insecurities and desires—then everything starts to become a part of their argument.

The Power of a Single Detail

Today’s Wise Word comes from Stephen King:

“An overturned tricycle in the gutter of an abandoned neighborhood can stand for everything.”

Picture that in your mind. What’s the argument of that setting?

Your brain is already making connections. Who did that tricycle belong to? How did it get there? Was it left behind in a hurry? What happened to the child who was riding it?

You know there’s meaning in that image. You feel the subtext.

Stephen King has done something brilliant. Instead of telling us that something terrible happened in this neighborhood, he lets us discover it.

This is the secret of how to write subtext. It’s about choosing details that make the argument without stating it outright.

Weekly Challenge: Recording Real-Life Arguments

This week’s challenge might get a little weird.

I want you to record a conversation—not necessarily with a phone or device, but at least by writing down as much of it as you can.

It could be a conversation between friends, family, coworkers, or even strangers at a bus stop or in a coffee shop.

Then, analyze it.

What is each person arguing for? It might not be the surface-level topic. Maybe someone is arguing, “I want you to value my opinion.” Maybe the other person is arguing, “I don’t have time for this conversation.”

Listen for the subtext. Watch how body language, facial expressions, and even word choices become part of the argument.

If you try this, I’d love to hear what you find!

Let’s get some words on paper this week. See you next time!

Mastering subtext is just one piece of crafting immersive fiction. Want to take your storytelling further? Head over to our How to Write a Novel guide for more in-depth strategies on creating compelling stories.

Talk to Us!

We’d love to hear from you! If you have a question, a comment, a suggestion, or just want to tell us about your work-in-progress, give us a shout!
info@insidecreativewriting.com

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