Dialect is ‘bout more’n playin’ with your spellin’. ‘sides, droppin’ the “g” is really jes writin’ an accent, and most o’ the time, writin’ accents is plain distractin’.
Okay, I gotta stop that, it hurts. But by exaggerating I hope to demonstrate how distracting spelling manipulation can be. And really, a dropped “g” isn’t distinctive. People all over America drop their g’s in casual conversation. It’s more important that you capture the unique turns of phrase and rhythms of the region. For example, “Go on, now” and “do tell” and “I lit out after her” send you to the South. Combine such distinct phrases with narrative clues like crab apple trees in the yard and nearby bayous and the like, and you’ll create a world—and that’s what storytelling is about. Consider this: “It’s all about Mama and her being a teacher and all.” You could write that as, “It’s all ‘bout Mama and her bein’ a teacher and all,” but why? Page after page of apostrophes can be as obnoxious as my opening lines above. Version 1 of the Mama line suggests a folksy region, and surrounding it with similarly styled dialogue and narrative details that suggest a specific place yields one smooth flavor that’s far more satisfying than tweaking the spelling in dialogue.
For an example of dialect that mines grammar and vocabulary rather than accent, read the middle grade novel Love, Ruby Lavender by National Book Award Finalist Deborah Wiles. That book oozes Mississippi without a single altered spelling. And good garden of peas, it’s just a good’un!