Harnessing the Power of Direct Speech in Your Essays

“Don’t go,” my little brother whispered, tugging my sleeve as the bus pulled in.

In two words, he showed you a bond, a choice, and a tug-of-war inside my chest. That’s the quiet magic of direct speech. It doesn’t tell the reader who you are; it lets them witness you in real time. And that living moment is the heartbeat of a standout college essay—exactly the kind of vivid, personal storytelling Erin Gordon champions in Conquer Your College Admissions Essays: A Step-By-Step Plan for Crafting Engaging, Stand-Out Applications Essays. Gordon urges students to skip the vague, start with a scene, and then explain why it matters—what journalists call an anecdotal lede followed by a quick “what this means” paragraph, so the reader is hooked and grounded right away .

Why Dialogue Works Better Than a Declaration

When you open with direct speech, you’re making a promise: this essay will be specific, real, and about you. Gordon warns that many essays waste precious space on “throat-clearing”—big, general statements that say nothing about the writer. Instead, she pushes students to “dive right in” with something personal, concrete, and human .

• Dialogue pulls the reader into the scene. A few words can place the reader in the room—faster than a paragraph of summary. That’s the power of a strong anecdotal lede, which Gordon teaches as a practical way to start with life and then name the meaning in the next paragraph .
• Dialogue helps you “show, don’t tell.” Gordon asks writers to move from broad claims to specific examples. One of her go-to moves is to follow a big statement with “One time…” or “For example…” and then tell a concrete story. Dialogue is a quick way to do exactly that .
• Dialogue sharpens your voice. Gordon encourages students to write like reporters, not editorialists—skip “I believe” and “I feel,” and present the truth straight. Dialogue naturally does this; it makes your point without using a soapbox .

The Hidden Truth: A Line of Speech Can Carry Your Whole Theme

Gordon has read hundreds of student essays. The ones that last are not “big” topics—they’re uniquely yours. She highlights memorable pieces about writing poems on oyster shells or perfecting a chocolate chip cookie recipe. Those essays stood out because they were specific, personal, and grounded in real moments that revealed character traits the reader could feel—patience, calm, curiosity—without the writer claiming them outright .

That’s the hidden truth behind direct speech: a single, honest line can open the door to your deeper theme. When you start with words actually spoken—by you or to you—you root your essay in lived experience. From there, you can connect the moment to your growth, your values, and how you’ll add to a campus community—the very arc Gordon guides students to create with the anecdote-plus-explanation approach .

Start Here: A Small Scene That Teaches Big

Let’s look at two ways to introduce leadership.

• Telling: “I have strong communication skills and often mediate conflicts.”
• Showing with dialogue: “We’re not doing your way again,” Maya said, arms crossed. “It’s not my way,” I said quietly. “It’s the plan we agreed on Monday.”

The second version lets the reader see dynamics, tension, and your approach in action. Right after a few lines, shift into what Gordon calls the “nut graf”—the why it matters. Spell out the insight and how it connects to who you are and what you’ll bring to campus. That is the exact rhythm Gordon teaches: scene, then significance .

Where Dialogue Belongs In Your Essay

• Opening hook: One or two lines to drop us into a moment. This avoids the “throat-clearing” Gordon flags as dead weight and saves space for personality and detail .
• Turning point: A brief exchange that marks a shift—when you chose a different path, spoke up, or changed your mind.
• Echo at the end: A short callback line can show growth and bring the story full circle without repeating yourself.

Use This Structure: Scene First, Meaning Next

Gordon shares a clear model you can follow right away. Start with a short, descriptive scene (the anecdotal lede), and then tell the reader plainly what that scene says about you (the nut graf). Her example—counselor-in-training, teary camper, a private talk under a fallen tree—shows the reader empathy in action. Then she immediately explains why that moment matters and how it reveals who the writer is, before connecting to the future on campus. It’s a simple, powerful sequence you can reuse for any topic .

Practical Steps: Make Your Dialogue Strong and Your Message Clear

1) Draft fast, then shape

Gordon recommends short, focused “writing sprints” to get your first draft out—no pressure, just words. If typing feels hard, talk into your phone and transcribe. Then step away and return to do a big-picture edit (macro), fixing gaps and logic, and adding stories where needed . When you refine (micro), remove clutter, choose precise words, and guide the reader with smooth transitions. You earn trust through clarity .

Tip: Read your essay out loud. Gordon notes that even pros whisper drafts to hear where the words don’t match the meaning. Your ear will catch what your eyes miss .

2) Lead with specifics

Gordon shows how to upgrade bland, general lines into vivid, sensory details. She literally suggests adding the sentence starter “One time…” or “For example…” to force yourself into a concrete moment. That move alone can turn a claim into a scene—and dialogue is your quickest doorway into that scene .

3) Trim every extra word

Keep dialogue short. Tighten setup lines. Gordon’s micro-edit list includes cutting filler like “very,” “really,” and “actually,” and replacing weak phrases with precise verbs and nouns. You’ll hold attention, sound confident, and keep your essay under word count without losing heart .

4) Guard your tone

Gordon is crystal clear: tone can sink a good essay. Avoid sounding elitist or unaware. She shares how an essay about chatting with Uber drivers—though well written—signaled class issues and would likely lose out to a less polished but deeply grounded story from a student confronting hardship. Be thoughtful, humble, and real—across your dialogue and narration alike .

She also shows how to replace “I suffer from…” with “I have…,” so you present your story without pity. That small change shifts the energy of your whole essay toward strength and clarity .

5) Keep the focus on you (and protect others’ privacy)

Gordon advises not to include other people’s first names—keep attention on your actions and insights. “My teammate said…” is enough. It keeps the spotlight where it belongs and avoids distracting your reader with unnecessary detail .

6) Write to inform, not perform

Gordon says to skip “I believe” and “I feel” and state the point cleanly. For example, change “I believe my dyslexia hasn’t affected my ability to learn” to “My dyslexia hasn’t affected my ability to learn.” Even better: “Dyslexia hasn’t affected my ability to learn.” The result is strong and respectful of your reader’s time—and it feels true to you .

What to Avoid When Using Dialogue

• Overdoing it: A little goes a long way. Your goal is balance—scene, then reflection, then forward motion.
• Chasing drama: You don’t need a life-or-death plot. Gordon points to essays about shells, cookies, and ordinary Saturdays that sing because they’re deeply specific and honest .
• Fancy punctuation tricks: Keep tags simple. Let the actions and words carry the meaning.

Try This 20-Minute Mini-Workshop

1. Ten-minute sprint
   Write a short scene with one line of dialogue you still think about. Don’t judge. Just get the moment down—the place, the sounds, the feeling. Gordon’s “writing sprints” help you beat the blank page and capture raw voice .

2. Underline the exact words said
   Make sure the line sounds like real speech. Trim if needed. Add a tiny action beat (“She set down the wrench,” “We watched the timer blink 00:10”) to anchor the talk in the physical world.

3. Add your meaning
   In 4–6 lines, say what the moment taught you. This is your nut graf: the clear bridge from story to self-knowledge, which Gordon models in her examples .

4. Micro-edit
   Cut filler words, choose precise verbs, and smooth transitions. Read out loud to catch clunky spots—another core step Gordon recommends .

5. Tone and privacy check
   Remove other people’s first names. Make sure your line of dialogue doesn’t punch down or brag. This keeps your essay aligned with Gordon’s tone guidance and focused on your growth .

Real Moves From Erin Gordon You Can Use Today

• Ditch the “throat-clearing.” Replace sweeping statements with a simple, personal sentence. Her before-and-after examples show exactly how to make that shift .
• Start with a story, then explain. Gordon’s camp anecdote shows how to bring the reader into a scene and then connect it directly to who you are and how you’ll contribute to campus life .
• Upgrade bland to specific. She demonstrates line-by-line edits—turning “I practiced my lines” into a concrete image of calves aching before dawn. Follow her lead: go from vague to vivid, from claim to moment .
• Write like a reporter. Trade “I believe” for truth stated plainly. It’s cleaner, stronger, and more respectful of your reader’s attention .
• Revise, then revise again. Gordon quotes a core idea about writing: “There is no great writing, only great rewriting,” and builds her process around it—first draft, macro edit, micro edit, and read out loud to catch what the eye misses .

Quick Before-and-After You Can Model

Before (generic):
“I’m passionate about helping others and plan to keep doing so in college.”

After (dialogue + meaning):
“‘I don’t know anyone here,’ he said, eyes on the lunch line.
‘Sit with us,’ I said, moving my backpack.

That tiny invitation changed my week—and his. I learned how small acts create community, and I’m bringing that habit to campus: to welcome others first, even when it’s inconvenient.”

See the difference? The line of speech makes the claim real. The reflection names the meaning. And the forward glance hints at what you’ll do next—another ending move Gordon recommends: look to the future and show how you’ll carry your lesson into college life .

Guardrails That Build Trust With Your Reader

• Be yourself, not who you think they want. Gordon’s mantra is authenticity. Write to inform the reader about you, not to impress them with a persona. Specific moments, not fancy topics, build trust .
• Think like a human, not a headline. If your opening sentence reveals nothing about you, change it. A simple line that starts with you is better than a big idea that starts nowhere .
• Keep your edits true to your voice. Ask for feedback, but make sure suggestions don’t rewrite you. Admissions readers can spot heavy adult editing, and Gordon reminds you to protect your voice—it’s your most valuable asset .

One Final Push For Your Draft

Begin with a line someone actually said. Follow it with what that moment taught you. Trim the extra words. Check your tone. Read it out loud. Then, as Gordon teaches, refine it again—because “There is no great writing, only great rewriting.”

Your story doesn’t need noise. It needs one true voice in one true moment—spoken out loud—so the reader can hear the person you already are and the person you’re becoming. When you start there, you don’t have to convince anyone. You simply let them see you. And that’s what stays.