A few years ago, I got to the point where I could not watch the evening news. It was just TOO MUCH, causing me to be depressed. One evening, around news time, I surfed the channels and found an oasis—one of the oldies channels showing an hour of Happy Days during my normal news time. Finally, a solution to the doom and gloom!
If you’ve been under a rock for half a century or are too young to remember, Happy Days follows the exploits of Richie Cunningham (played by Ron Howard, Opie grown up a bit) and Arthur “The Fonz” Fonzarelli (Henry Winkler) and the rest of their gang, navigating life in the late ‘50s/early ‘60s. The show debuted in 1974 during a wave of ‘50s nostalgia and lasted until 1984—my formative years.
One night during my “anti-news Happy Days mini-marathon,” I witnessed a big juxtaposition I had forgotten. The first episode of the evening was the second season finale, focusing on Richie and his pals Potsie and Ralph Malph on an overnight school field trip to Chicago. Typical of the first two seasons, the episode was on film, enhanced with a laugh track, and played out like a mini-movie.
The next episode that night was the season three premiere, and the changes were startling. Facing sagging ratings, the producers revamped the series that season, shooting on videotape in front of a live audience and placing the Fonz, previously a minor character, at the center of the action, with more broad comedy and catchphrases like “Sit on it!” The changes worked ratings-wise, as Happy Days soon became the number-one show on television and remained near the top for several seasons, even after Ron Howard left to become a famous film director.
I was in middle school when this change to “Fonzie and More Fonzie” took place. He was the coolest character on the planet, and my classmates and I wanted to be like him. I even had a “I’m with the Fonz” t-shirt with a depiction of his “thumbs-up” pose.
Seeing the stark differences in tone from one episode to the next made me think of such changes in writing direction. When I began writing and pursuing publication, I was firmly in the fiction camp, planning to be the next Great American Novelist. I attended writers conferences and studied dialogue, POV, and all things fiction.
Just as Richie and Fonz and crew changed tone, God changed my direction a few years into my journey, guiding me toward writing devotions and other inspirational essays. Back in the day, I remember the new Happy Days took some getting used to, and my new “Carlton devotions” felt the same. I did learn that some of the things I studied in fiction writing—the aforementioned dialogue and POV, among other techniques—have made me a better writer of inspirational essays. Setting a scene for your readers is just as important in nonfiction as it is in fiction.
What to do if God changes your writing direction? Be like the Fonz: give a thumbs up and say “AAAAYYYYY!!!!” Then Sit on It and start writing.
Carlton Hughes, represented by Cyle Young of Hartline Literary, wears many hats. By day, he is a professor of communication. On Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings, he serves as a children’s pastor. In his “spare time,” he is a freelance writer. Carlton is an empty-nesting dad and devoted husband who likes long walks on the beach, old sitcoms, and chocolate—all the chocolate. His work has been featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game, The Wonders of Nature, Let the Earth Rejoice, Just Breathe, So God Made a Dog, and Everyday Grace for Men. His latest book is Adventures in Fatherhood, co-authored with Holland Webb.
One of the trends in writing today is the use of deep POV. As writers, we tend to use deep POV to get into a character’s head and stay there so that we can actually feel the character’s emotions as the story unfolds. We take away the things that remind the reader there is an author behind the story. Sounds easy, right?
There are many options to the technique. While one writer might use them all, another uses one or two of the techniques. And then, again, there are authors who don’t care for it one bit and stick to their method of simply letting the story evolve without considering deep POV. Let’s take a look at some of the ways we can incorporate it into our novels and up the level of reader takeaway. You know, the good stuff. The stuff that leaves your reader digging into a huge box of tissues.
So what are these techniques and how do we utilize them: removing a lot of unnecessary dialogue tags, telling … telling … telling, and filter words.
Each time we tell the reader, he said or she asked, we remind the reader there is an author behind the dialogue. “I love you,” Steve said. Okay, so we get that he loves her, and the reader is reminded that the author is telling you this. But if you show who’s talking using action instead of the tired old tags, you get: “I love you.” Steve nuzzled her neck as his words landed against her skin. Now we get that it’s Steve talking, but the author doesn’t intrude on the private moment by telling the reader that Steve is the one who said it. We let his actions show us.
Also, as authors we just love to tell our readers about how our characters feel, but can the reader get a true idea of the character’s emotion just from the tell? Cassie was cold. Okay, I get it … maybe. But what does that really mean? To someone from Alaska, it might mean it’s 50 degrees below 0. To someone in Florida, it might mean it’s 55 or 60 above. See how that can offer a different meaning to readers? So how about: Cassie shivered and rubbed her arms. If only she had a hot cup of coffee. Do we get a better grasp of how cold she is without ever using the word cold? Of course, we do.
There are also a lot of filter words we use that tell the story. He thought, she pondered, he knew, she wondered. Do we need them? If we are solidly in the head of our character, we rarely need to add them. I’d really like a hot cocoa, she thought. Well, if we’re in her head, of course, she’s the one thinking it. When the author adds on she thought, it’s merely a reminder that there is a writer behind the story. Let’s look at this one: She knew he’d be angry once he found out. She knew it? If we’re in her head, of course she’s the one who knows it. So let’s just say: He’d be angry when he found out. She thought the chair would look good pushed against the wall. Instead: The chair would look good pushed against the wall. We simply do not need she thought to introduce the sentence. We’re in her head. Naturally, she’s the one thinking this.
Each time we give the reader a reminder that there is an author writing the story for them, we pull them out of the character’s head. Out of his or her POINT OF VIEW. And the more we stay in it, the more emotion we feel from that character and pull from our reader.
Must we use deep POV? No. But you can see the advantages when we get into the feelings of our characters and stay there, taking the reader on an emotional roller coaster. Readers love to laugh and cry with the characters, and deep POV helps the tears flow, and the laughter reach deep into the belly.
Don’t think about whether you need to use deep POV, just ask yourself: What would you rather read?
Linda S. Glaz is an agent with Hartline Literary Agency, and also the author of eight novels and two novellas, so she “gets” writers. She represents authors in both the Christian and secular communities. She speaks at numerous conferences and workshops around the country each year. Married with three grown children and four grands, she lives in a small town where everyone is family.
In Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird (1960), the character Atticus Finch says, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… until you climb in his skin and walk around in it.” As authors, this is what we do when we choose to write in the first person. We come as close as we ever can to experiencing the world from a perspective that’s not our own. Writing fiction in the first person then is a leap of empathy and imagination, but the challenges this point of view (POV) poses are technical, as well as psychological.
Some writers experiment with POV, trying out omniscient third, close third, and first, before settling on a narrative approach for their book. But when writing my debut novel, Bronte’s Mistress, I was never in any doubt as to whose voice the story needed to be told in. Not only was my book a response to one of the most famous first-person novels ever written, Charlotte Bronte’s 1847 Jane Eyre (“reader, I married him”), but my protagonist, Lydia Robinson, was a woman who’s been vilified through history as being responsible for the Bronte family’s demise. What would she say if she could tell her side of the story? I wondered. And, equally importantly, How would she say it?
Writing Lydia forced me to enter a world (1840s England) in which, even wealthy, women had few choices. She doesn’t own property, she’s never voted, she has no access to divorce. And it also made me confront the technicalities of writing first person prose, a few of which I’ll share with you today.
Placing your narrator in time
You’ve decided you’ll be writing in the first person, but this is just one of a series of hard choices. Now that you have the who, it’s time to think about the when. Will your first person narrator be telling the story from a point in the future? Will they know the story’s destination from the very first line? Think of Charles Dickens’s titular character David Copperfield (1850) or Nick Carraway in F. Scott Fitzerald’s The Great Gatsby (1925).
Choosing a retrospective viewpoint has the potential to make your story more didactic. It’s easier for a character to draw conclusions or moralize with the benefit of hindsight. And there are other advantages. For example, if your character is going to undergo a significant transformation, the older protagonist can excuse, explain or apologize for the behavior of their younger self, maintaining reader sympathy. This makes this choice popular for writers of bildungsroman.
On the other hand, a retrospective first person can distance us from the character in the moment, alienating us from the action, and even intruding on scenes with overly expositional commentary. A retrospective first person can slacken the tension too. A first person character is already unlikely to die, but the existence of an older narrator pretty much precludes this possibility. If you write historical fiction like me, you might also have to pinpoint an exact year from which your protagonist is speaking, giving you a second time period to research and understand.
In Bronte’s Mistress, although the book is in the past tense, Lydia Robinson tells her story as if she’s in the moment and living through the events of the novel vs. relating the events years later. For me, this decision made sense as I wanted readers to feel viscerally with Lydia as she enters into an illicit and dangerous affair. However, I did occasionally miss the tools a retrospective first provides, like giving me the option to foreshadow more overtly.
Experiencing your story through their senses
Writing first person means your story can only contain what the protagonist knows, but this advice goes beyond questions of plot.
Seeing the world through the narrator’s eyes means describing each new setting through the lens of what they would observe—and in the order in which they would notice every detail. Your characters’ senses (sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch) become readers’ only points of access to the world around them. This isn’t a movie where you can start with an establishing shot before zooming in on the face of the character we’re following!
This means you have to be careful that your descriptions seem to fit within your character’s realm of experience. Can your narrator really detail different types of weapons? (Maybe yes, maybe no.) Can they see another character’s expression from so far away?
Watching your metaphors
Linked to this, is the difficulty of handling imagery (for instance, simile and metaphor), when writing in first person.
As with your descriptions, your images need to ring true to the character whose perspective you’re writing from. Would they know these words and think these thoughts? Crucially too, is this an appropriate moment for them to be thinking poetically? Or are you sacrificing believability because you’ve fallen in love with a sentence, phrase or image? If your character starts thinking in too many similes, they may seem distracted from the task at hand.
People have their favorite images and points of comparison, and these are dependent on their interests. Tapping into this can be a great way to establish your character’s personality, but you may also run the risk of making your imagery repetitive. In Bronte’s Mistress, for instance, my character Lydia is a good musician, so she often uses musical metaphors. This was a helpful guide for me, as music gave me a lot of scope to play, without the imagery I employed ever feeling out of place in her narration.
Offering other perspectives
Finally, one of the toughest parts of writing first person fiction is the danger for overidentification between the writer and the protagonist. How can you show that you disagree with your character’s views or actions, if you’re writing from their perspective?
Here, other characters’ voices (e.g. through dialogue) are crucial. Include others’ views to cast doubt on your protagonist’s conclusions or to hint that they might be unreliable. There is also potential to use irony in the same way, having “what happens next” totally contradicting what the first person narrator has thought/said previously.
In Bronte’s Mistress, I had another device to help me do this. I inserted letters addressed to Lydia at various points in my narrative, allowing me to showcase viewpoints that were in opposition to hers, and, of course, play around with additional first person voices!
I hope some of these tips have been helpful to those of you writing fiction in the first person. Writing using the “I” may seem straightforward, but when the going gets tough, remember that what you’re attempting is truly extraordinary. You’re stepping out of your own skin and into someone else’s. What could be more miraculous?
Finola Austin, also known as the Secret Victorianist on her award-winning blog, is an England-born, Northern Ireland-raised, Brooklyn-based historical novelist and lover of the nineteenth century. She has two degrees from the University of Oxford, including a Master’s in Victorian literature. Brontë’s Mistress is her first novel and is available for purchase now. By day, Finola works in digital advertising. Find her online at www.finolaaustin.com, or connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter.
Choosing a perspective character is one of the biggest choices when it comes to writing your novel. There are usually several great options, but as the writer it’s up to you to choose the best option.
And that’s where the difficulty comes in.
Your perspective character is often referred to as your camera. To stay in line with point-of-view rules, your reader can only see, hear, taste, touch, smell, and know whatever your scene’s perspective character sees, hears, tastes, touches, smells, and knows.
For the sake of this post, let’s assume you’re choosing one perspective character for the entire book, rather than several and switching perspectives scene to scene.
Your perspective character sets the tone of your story.
Imagine if the classic Pride and Prejudice was re-written and told from Mr. Wickham’s perspective. The tone would not have the romantic, at times light-hearted feel the classic is known for. What if J. K. Rowling had written Harry Potter from only Hagrid’s point-of-view? It would likely have felt a little more comedic.
Ask: What tone do I want in my story? Then choose the character that will best represent that tone.
Your perspective character reveals your story.
Going back to the Pride and Prejudice example, we don’t find out what’s happened to Mr. Darcy’s little sister until quite a way into the book. Trying to discover who Darcy is and why he’s so mysterious keeps us turning the pages. But if Jane Austen had written it from Mr. Wickham’s perspective the mystery of Darcy’s character wouldn’t have been a mystery.
Decide: What do you want to hide from your reader, and when do you want to reveal it? Then choose the character whose journey of discovery matches the journey you want your reader to have.
Your perspective character learns a lesson.
Good stories have good character arcs. Lizzie’s character arc in Pride and Prejudice is one that goes from judgmental to loving. Again, if Wickham had been the perspective character the reader likely wouldn’t have walked away changed. Not in a meaningful way.
Consider: What lesson do I want to teach, and which character will learn the lesson?
Choosing a perspective character is a big decision. He or she will set the tone of your story, experience a specific journey of discovery, and learn specific lessons other characters won’t learn in the same way.
As you consider which character to tell the story through, take your time. But once you’ve made the decision move forward with boldness. It’s your story to tell, and after all, you’re the writer!
Sarah Rexford is a Marketing Content Creator and writer. She helps authors build their platform through branding and copywriting. With a BA in Strategic Communications, Sarah equips writers to learn how to communicate their message through personal branding. She writes fiction and nonfiction and offers writers behind-the-scenes tips on the publishing industry through her blog itssarahrexford.com. She is represented by the C.Y.L.E Young Agency.
Point of view (POV) is essential in all forms of fiction to describe the action as the character experiences it, including emotional responses, thoughts, and reactions. Point of view is especially vital in romance fiction as we build a story around two people falling in love.
The hero and heroine cannot talk about everything they see, feel, want, so the point of view describes what is going on. Without it, your reader will not understand the inner lives of your characters. Their inner lives are especially important when the book is all about emotions. By getting inside the character’s minds, you can give the reader the full story. You can show their attraction, even when they don’t act like they are attracted to each other.
The same is true during action scenes, even when most of the focus is on external events. Point of view interwoven with dialogue and action can keep the romance front and center. Often adding a few lines of into a scene is the easiest way to convey pieces of information the reader needs.
Whose point of view is the right one for the scene? Whose head the writer gets into depends on if the hero or heroine has the most to learn or has the most at stake, at-risk, or the most to tell the reader or have the most interesting take on what is happening around them. If you decide both your hero and heroine are equal, you might choose to split the scene between the two characters. As you switch from one character’s point of view to another, use a scene break to make it easy for your reader.
Use an internal monologue to stay in the hero or heroine’s head longer to convey an important point. The most important use of the internal monologue is during moments of great emotional stress, or when the character realizes they are in love with the other person. That is a huge revelation and a key to everything else that will happen. Your reader needs to know how the hero or heroine feels about this sudden realization. Does it make them happy? Perhaps they are furious because this wasn’t in their plan? Do they think their love interest couldn’t possibly love them back? Maybe there have been so many negative things happening between them that they feel it’s impossible to work out the rocky road of their relationship.
No matter what they feel, those feelings are dramatic, complicated, and fascinating, and you need that extra time inside his/her head to tell the reader all about them. You can also use the internal monologue to convey information like what motivates a character or what the character thinks motivates someone else. These don’t fit well into dialogue.
Choose the character’s point of view carefully. Ensure there is enough at stake to tell the story from inside the hero or heroine’s head. Make their inner life rich enough, so the story is dramatic and intriguing to your reader.
As a reference for this article, I used Writing a Romance Novel for Dummies by Leslie Wainger.
Award-winning writer, Rose Gardner’s journey toward publication has come in two phases. During the early years, she was a finalist in thirteen contests and won her category in seven, was a 2007 RWA Golden Heart finalist in the Long Contemporary Category, and 2nd runner up in the 2008 Harlequin Super Romance Conflict of Interest Contest. After a break from writing, she returned to writing with a renewed focus on clean, contemporary heartwarming stories about love, hope, healing, and the power of forgiveness. She has won or placed in several contests for unpublished writers since 2017 as she works toward publication. You can find out more about Rose at her website mrosegardner.com or on social media at Facebook at MRoseGardner/, Twitter MaryGardner6, Instagram mrosegardner/
As we continue this editing
series how we can develop a great story, I hope you’re able to see that the
elements of storytelling hinges on more than concept and characters. By having
all the layers in place before actually writing, you can have a clearer idea of
where your story is going. Or if you’ve already written your book, how to make
sure all the layers are in place so that you give your readers a delightful
reading experience.
The third layer in developing a great story is developing your story’s
point of view.
Point of view doesn’t
stop with characters, but also affects inanimate and animate objects like
setting and weather. Let’s discuss some possibilities!
How to Edit the Point of View
Who has the most at
stake in this story?
Whose perspective
offers the best story in this scene?
How will your chosen
POV impact your characters, the plot, your readers?
Who has the most at stake in this story?
In storytelling, it’s really all about what’s at stake for the
main character. And it’s not what they’re grilling, either. Unless, of course,
it’s a camping novel, and then it works.
Which character has the higher stake? The butcher who is forced
to sell his butcher shop because his wife is sick, or the daughter who must
leave her school to travel with her family so they can get medical help for
mother? It depends.
We must ask ourselves the following potential questions:
Who is your audience?
Which character is
speaking to you the most?
Which character has
the most to learn by the end of the story?
What is the takeaway
for your readers?
If it seems as if storytelling is comprised of asking lots of
questions, you’re right. It is. As writers, we must don our analytical hats and
comb every journalist-style question as we map out the story basics.
Whose perspective offers the best story in this scene?
Perspective is everything. It’s the difference between telling
the story from Boo Radley’s eyes or from Scout’s eyes; the old man’s eyes in UP
or his wife’s eyes; or Turnley Walker’s eyes.
Even if you are not familiar with the characters I just named,
you might have noticed that the perspectives are all very different from each
other. There’s first person, third person, and second person.
First Person
To Kill a Mockingbird. Harper Lee tells the story from Scout’s perspective in first
person. Everything that I experience in this story is as if I were viewing the
world from Scout’s vantage point. I get inside Scout’s head and notice
everything, feel everything, do everything, and think everything that Scout
does. I’m affected by the arguments of the era, the racial disputes, and the
events around me.
Writing in first person is a great way to share cultural and
social issues with readers because of the depth of voice you can write from. You
can also write your story from a first-person heroine and a third-person hero
(in separate chapters, of course), if you’d like to switch it up a bit. Additionally,
teen readers often relate to stories written in first person, as my friend Kara
Swanson has done in her Peter Pan retelling, Dust (July 2020, Enclave Escape, a division of Enclave Publishing).
Second Person
Writing in second person is often discouraged. I’m not quite sure why, other than it can feel a bit clunky on the page. My friend Angela Hunt, author of biblical historicals, says that writing in second person “is the bubble gum flavor of ice cream. It’s delicious, but a bit annoying because you have to work on holding the bubble gum in your mouth while trying to swallow the ice cream and cone” (Unmasking the Mystery of Point of View, Angela Hunt, 14).
But sometimes I think that second person (you) tends to sound
narrative in tone, which can be a fun way to tell a story. So if your story
feels narrative in nature and your characters aren’t good at telling their own
story, you might consider writing in second person. Or if your story has an
ultimately unique perspective or subject matter, then maybe telling the story
in second person works. Keep in mind, second person also requires the present
tense verb. Let’s read an example from a book published in 1950.
Rise Up and Walk by Turnley Walker. It’s the personal story of a man who
contracted polio, a crippling flulike virus, and he chose second person voice
to tell his story. I think it’s effective because it puts readers in an
empathetic mood. Turnley opens the story like this,
“The regulation
hospital bed is thirty-four by seventy-four inches. In the beginning that much
space is allotted to each polio—the new name you get after Infantile Paralysis
slugs you. That thirty-four-by-seventy-four inch area is a place that
poliomyelitis allows you, and even though
you have been a much-traveled man in the outside world, you learn to live in
it” (Rise Up and Walk, Turnley Walker, 7).
There are a few things I notice about this opening and the
second-person viewpoint:
The subject matter is interesting
The tone is reflective and conversational
The tone affects empathy
Now, lest you think second person is a great idea, please think
again. It’s not often used, and when it is, it can be difficult to manage
because it also requires writing in present tense. Still curious? Go ahead.
Give it a try. See how it works for you—and then ask a beta reader or skilled
editor to ensure the story’s worthy of second person.
Third Person
Writing in third person is the most-used option for POV for
several reasons. It’s easy. It’s fun. And you get to explore the world through
multiple characters’ eyes. Besides, most authors write in third person.
Telling the story from the viewpoint of she or he or they or it
adds life to a story because it allows readers to experience the story from a
bird’s-eye view while also getting inside the head of the main character in the
story at the moment.
Nan, in
Elizabeth Berg’s The Pull of the Moon, sets off to adventure the world at fifty. As she gets into her
car and drives across the country, she explores places, meets people, and
discovers herself along the way. And I imagine the author wrote this book from
Nan’s perspective, making this book an exceptional insight into the life of one
character.
Writing in third person requires using the five senses and the
journalist’s five W’s and H, and for the best reading experience, showing
readers the world from that character’s POV. This means—what they see, hear,
feel, say, think, do—whatever they experience is only told from their eyes.
Only. Head hopping is not an option here. It’s more confusing for readers to
experience the same scene from two characters or more. (Watch for a future blog
post on that topic!)
How will your chosen POV impact your characters, the plot, your readers?
Choosing the correct POV is as important as choosing the correct
plot trajectory or characters to act out the story. The correct POV is the mood
of the story, the flavor you want readers to taste, the mountain you want them
to view.
If you’re writing in a voice that seems “off,” try switching
gears and write in another voice. There isn’t a wrong way to write a story, but
there is the right viewpoint that tells the best story.
Secret Sauce to the Best Point of View
Elizabeth Berg, author of The Pull of the Moon, says, “I
have wanted you to see out of my eyes so many times.”
And let that be true of your manuscript, however you choose to
tell your story and whomever to use to tell your story—whether first person,
second person, third person, deep point of view … or if you choose to let an
animate or inanimate object tell the story, so be it.
Each writer and author
benefits from exploring their characters inside and out, while asking “what
if?” at every turn when crafting their novel’s plot because it’s really the
secret sauce to writing a great story that captivates people, agents, editors,
readers, marketers, and the person who wouldn’t necessarily pick up a book and
read it.
Questions? Comments?
I’d love to engage in the conversation with you! Drop your question or comment
in the chat below, and I’ll look forward to responding!
Your Turn!
Who is your audience,
and what do you hope they gain from reading your book?
Which viewpoint do you
think is best to tell the story you’re writing, and why?
Tisha Martin writes historical fiction and nonfiction but edits full time for beginning and best-selling writers and publishing houses. Since 2017 she has worked on over 250 books, including Planned from the Start, the devotional companion to Unplanned the movie, and serves as contest judge for Writer’s Digest. She puts her bachelors in Professional Writing, masters in English Education, and editing certificate from the PEN Institute to delightful good use. Her nonfiction essay “The Meaning of an Heirloom” in The Horse of My Dreams: True Stories of the Horses We Love is available from Revell. She enjoys speaking at writer’s conferences and coaching writers in the self-editing process. Learn more at www.tishamartin.com.
Writing is a funny art because agents and editors (freelance and publishing house) tell us to write, write, write . . . and to make sure that our manuscript is edited well. “Edited well?” What if we don’t like the word editing because it’s too daunting? What if our minds turn to jelly or we seize up when an agent or mentor tells us to edit our manuscript?
Well. Editing doesn’t have to be so intimidating, daunting, or scary because it’s really another piece of the writing process. Before sending our manuscript to a freelance editor or mentor (or even critique group), we need to make sure that our manuscript is fluid. Simply, we edit to make sure our manuscript is ready for the public eye. How do we think like an editor when we aren’t one? I’ll give you some more tips on how to think like an editor. Ready?
Three More Rules for Thinking Like an Editor
4. Is the point of view clear in my story?
Who is doing the “seeing,” or telling the story, anyway? As a contest judge and having read over 100 books this year, an issue I see a lot is a wobbly point of view. And, granted, it’s so easy to overlook, especially since there are so many points of view we can use in our manuscripts. There’s first person, second person, third person, third person omniscient, omniscient, and—are you confused? Take heart. I was too before I really sat down with someone and they talked me through the differences, and then did some googling to make sure I really understood.
Best rule of thumb here: whichever character you choose to tell the story, that character must experience the story unfolding in those scenes. What does this mean? This means that that character you choose must see, hear, touch, taste, and smell, as well as perceive what’s going on in the current situation. If Mabel is your protagonist, you cannot describe Jacob tying his shoe when he’s behind Mabel because she cannot see what’s behind her. Now, she might be able to hear noises, and you can describe those. If there are too many people “talking,” the story gets muddled, and our readers won’t know who to root for.
5. Is my manuscript well researched?
Ew. Please don’t throw rotten tomatoes at me! While I realize not everyone enjoys research, it’s important for our books to be well researched. Why? Because if we use the word “bulbous” in our 1577 medieval fantasy manuscript or refer to saddle shoes in our 1929 novel, our knowledgeable readers may snap the book shut, and their investment in our story comes to an abrupt end. Or, if we have our character walking through a door before he’s opened it shows that we haven’t researched the sequence of the action. These may seem like unimportant details, however, small as they are, these details add credibility to yourself as an author—and makes you think like an editor. And it truly is the difference between the Victrola and an MP3.
6. Is the manuscript tightly written?
If you’re anything like me, I’m imagining a 300- or 500-page manuscript stuffed into a miniature straight jacket. Well . . . not quite. But that’s the idea. By “tightly written,” this means that every detail, dialogue, and plot thread in your manuscript connects to the overarching theme and overall message of your story.
For instance, if Sassy had not gone with Chance and Shadow (Disney’s Homeward Bound), that sarcastic element would not have made poor Chance’s misadventures humorous or empathetic; or if Shadow had had an elderly woman’s voice, he might not have been endearing to viewers. (I am not downgrading male or female voiceovers here.) The tired, old man voice fits Shadow’s personality, as well as the storyline.
Now let’s apply it to a sentence or two of writing. In these sentences, our character’s goal is to get from the house to the barn to play with the new baby goats that are a few weeks old.
Original:
Helen set the cup down on the table and scooted her chair back. She put on her jacket and headed out to the barn, where the tiny bleats sent a pitter patter through her chest.
Tight rewrite (keeping only necessary details for our character’s goal in this scene):
Helen set her cup on the table and scooted her chair back. As she shrugged into her jacket, she ran to the barn. Tiny bleats sent a pitter patter through her.
Did you catch the smaller details that were left out because they did not propel this scene forward?
Keep in mind that every author and editor has their own style, preferences, and idiosyncrasies for what they like in a story. The bottom line is to make sure your writing shows what is the most important for the story’s that on your heart. And if you write like an editor, you will have a much stronger story that creates a fabulous reading experience for your readers.
Please join in the discussion! I’d love to hear from you!
Take a few minutes and ruminate. What are some other ways you can think like an editor?
Tisha Martin is a writer and editor, and she lives to encourage authors and editors to bridge their relationships and work together for the publishing industry cause, where readers will treasure books for always. With a bachelor’s in Professional Writing, a master’s in English Education, and an editing certificate from the PEN Institute, she has equal passions for writing and editing. Active in ACFW and The PEN, she appreciates both communities. She is the former Assistant Director of PENCON, a conference for professional editors. She’s also a judge for Writer’s Digest. When she’s not editing, Tisha blogs about writing, editing, theater, horses, and American home front history at www.tishamartin.com. She looks forward to the conversation with you!
A writer must find the perfect balance when describing characters, especially when introducing them to a reader for the first time. The reader needs enough information to grasp who the character is, but too much information and the reader will likely skip to the next paragraph.
Or worse.
We writers know a lot about our characters. We’ve spent days crafting their descriptions, personalities and back stories. But when it comes to the descriptions we include in our stories, we must remember that we know much more than the reader needs (or wants) to know.
Here are a few tips to help you create awesome character descriptions
DON’T simply give a detailed description of the character’s physical appearance. This police sketch approach lacks emotion and does little to explain who the character is.
DO paint a picture that evokes emotion. Show who the character is rather than tell what they look like. Use dialogue or action to give the reader insight into their personalities.
DON’T introduce the character for the first time in a bland, forgettable way.
DO introduce a character by mentioning the most significant traits, and do so in as memorable a manner as possible.
DON’T include a catalog of irrelevant details. The reader will assume every detail you supply is important. If you mention the character is left-handed, the reader is going to expect left-handedness to be significant somewhere down the road. If it’s not going to be mentioned again, skip that detail.
DO choose only the most telling details, the ones that give is important insight into the character’s personality and attitudes, or that will become significant to the plot. If
DON’T create several characters who are so similar the reader gets them confused. (Unless that is a key ploy for your particular story, in which case the POV character should probably have problems keeping them straight, too.)
DO give characters a unique, easily described characteristic that helps the reader keep track of who’s who.
DON’T tell the reader details about a person that the POV character doesn’t know. Such author intrusions may have been common once upon a time, but they now feel forced or preachy.
DO describe a person through the lens of the POV character. The main character may have a very biased and inaccurate view of other characters, but that is OK. By flavoring each description with the main character’s thoughts and attitudes, you not only introduce other characters but also show us something new about the POV character.
DON’T allow all characters to describe a person in exactly the same way. Each POV character is likely to notice—and ignore—different aspects of a person’s appearance, behavior and personality.
DO show different sides of a character’s personality by allowing each POV character to display a unique attitude. One student’s favorite teacher is another student’s least favorite. By showing the teacher from both sides, the reader gets a more complex and authentic picture.
Most of all, DO have fun creating and describing your characters!
And DON’T give up. The world needs to hear the story only you can tell.
In my last post, I explained that Point of View is one of the choices writers have when they tell a story. From whose perspective will the tale unfold? Or, whose voice will we hear as we read? Since POV relates closely to person, we identify POV using the personal pronouns associated first, second and third person. In this post, we’ll look at Third Person POV, which uses the third person personal pronouns he, she, they, etc.
Third Person Point of View is the most common in literature, and it offers a few more options or variations in how you tell the story. Which perspective you use determines how intimate or close up the reader will be. Since your goal is to engage the reader and enable him or her to suspend belief long enough to believe your story, you’ll want to choose your POV carefully.
Single character or Third Person Limited: The narrator tells the story from one character’s point of view. It may be the major character or a minor character. As the writer, you’ll be in that character’s head and will only be able to reveal what that person experiences and thinks.
Going back to the example of our train trip through the Colorado Rockies, the narrator could relate the story from my husband’s point of view. He would likely include details about the locomotive and the history of the railroads. He might even include some words and phrases that originated with railroading that are now part of the everyday vernacular. Because the narrator can get inside the character, he might go back to my better half’s childhood memories of waking up to a Lionel train set under the tree on Christmas morning and give us a glimpse into the emotions that being on the rails evoke for him.
The narrator could share the experience from the perspective of the engineer or conductor. Since they make the trip regularly, their point of view might include observations of changes they’ve seen in the operations of the railroad over the years, interesting passengers and situations they’ve encountered, or the lifestyle of living on the rails.
Multiple character: A more common choice today among authors choosing to write in third person is to tell the story from the perspective of more than one character. This approach avoids what can be tedium for the writer and boredom for the reader—both telling and hearing the story from only one perspective. Obviously, only one character will “speak” at a time, but this approach allows the reader to see the action from more than one perspective and serves as another way to draw the reader into the story. The writer’s challenge is not to confuse the reader as to whose head he is in at the moment. Making the transition from one character to another is critically important if you’re using multiple POV. Be sure, too, that the technique serves a good purpose. Does it move the plot along or only confuse the reader? Done well, multiple points of view can keep a story fresh and the reader engaged.
Third Person Objective (also known as Dramatic Objective or Fly on the Wall.) Think of this as just sticking to the facts. In Third Person Objective POV the reader is not privy to the thoughts of any character, but determines what he can only from the characters’ words, actions, and facial expressions. The writer employing this POV is compelled to show, not tell as that is the only way the reader understands the character’s dilemma, thought processes, and motivation.
Third Person Omniscient – This narrator sees all and knows all. The omniscient narrator is able to convey considerable information in a short period of time because he or she is not limited to one character’s point of view. While that gives the writer considerable flexibility, few modern novels use the god-like narrator. Its drawback? It keeps the reader at a distance. We don’t really get to connect with the character(s) emotionally. And let’s be honest. Isn’t that why we’re drawn to story? Because telling stories and learning about ourselves and those around is part of the human experience. Our lives are richer when we listen to and learn from our own and others stories.
So chose your POV carefully. Given the myriad of devices and activities vying for contemporary readers’ attention, you’ll be well served to write in a POV that overcomes the distractions of contemporary readers and draws them in to your story.
The carbine was still jammed and Jim couldn’t do anything to fix it. He finally tossed it aside and cursed the shoddy Adronni weapon manufacturers – maybe their world would be next on the alien invasion tour. A shrill whine filled the air, and Jim pressed himself tighter against the debris-covered groundcar. A scant thirty feet away the earth erupted in blue smoke. As the remains of a prefab shelter rained harmlessly over his powersuit, Jim took inventory. A Gilgamesh repeater pistol, a single frag, and a suit of armor with a busted rebreather. As long as the reptilians didn’t gas him first, he’d probably live long enough for one of their walker units to plasma-blast him in the chest. He sighed. No, there was one last thing he possessed – the souls of his charred comrades pushing him on to avenge them. Jim unholstered the pistol and peered around the corner. Time to move – vengeance would be his!
On the surface, the above paragraph looks like an action scene. It’s dripping with tension, and Jim’s fate looks pretty bleak. But even an action-packed paragraph can be used to build your world. In fact, study it a minute and try to identify some of the foreign storyworld elements.
We’re not sure what kind of weaponry Jim has (laser? projectile?), but his attackers clearly have plasma weapons that explode in puffs of blue gas. And we can guess based on the grisly state of his allies that either the plasma weapons burned them alive or that the aliens have some other kind of burning weapon.
Let’s look at some of the subtler elements though. Take the use of the word “groundcar.” What is the implication there? Obviously a “groundcar” is a type of vehicle distinguished from some other type. An aircar? A hover car? We don’t know specifics, but use of that word reveals that methods other than ground-based vehicles are used for transportation in this world.
We also get a glimpse into the intergalactic relations. First of all, these reptilians are not only invading Jim’s planet but have apparently been on “tour,” invading many planets. We don’t know if “Adronni” is a company or a race of aliens, but we do know that either Jim or his military outfit purchased firearms from otherworldly suppliers. This establishes that the storyworld has interplanetary trade.
All of this could be done from a detached, third-person omniscient perspective, but the story is told from a deep, although third-person, POV. This not only conveys the gobs of storyworld information above, but it also does two other things: 1) it gives the action emotional impact. Sure, the battle scene is only a paragraph long, but you’re emotionally involved in the character. It inspires you to read onward and learn Jim’s fate, even as your imagination processes the alien elements. And 2) the world is shown with Jim’s particular biases. A comment like “shoddy Adronni weapon manufacturers” shows us Jim has preferences in firearms and the Adronni-supplied weapons are apparently not among them. This doesn’t mean his preferences are necessarily right, and a different character’s POV may reveal a different perspective on the carbine and its manufacturer. Your storyworld’s inhabitants, like those in the real world, won’t always agree on things.
This isn’t to say that every paragraph in your 90,000-word manuscript must be packed with exotic storyworld elements, but the first few chapters should do so as much as possible. And if you’re trying to get your audience attached to your characters in that same timeframe, doing so from a close, ground-level perspective can really help.
Last year, my favorite novel was Monster Hunter International written by Larry Correia. A contemporary fantasy novel like this doesn’t need as much storyworld explanation as a distant-future sci-fi novel, but the author does equally amazing jobs at world-building and deep character exploration. I’ve also just started Marc Turner’s When the Heavens Fall, an epic novel with some well-developed fantasy elements and several great POVs. A final verdict will have to wait since I haven’t finished it yet, but thus far it’s a great read and exemplifies some of what we’ve discussed here.
That’s all for now. Next month we’ll kick off a series on alien and fantastic biology. Until then, let me know if there are any other storyworld elements you’d like me to explore in this space. Thanks for reading!
Twice in the last year, my husband and I have made the trip from Denver to Grand Junction, Colorado. Once by car, once by train. The train trip takes twice as long, but the views are even more spectacular than the scenic I-70 route. From the train we saw mountain streams and rock formations, nearly deserted towns and remote homesteads that are not visible from the highway. We made the same trip, but the perspective was different. If we had chosen to hike even part of the journey, we would have had an even different point of view.
As writers, we make choices about how to tell a story. One of the most important is point of view. From whose perspective will we tell a tale? Like our journey across a portion of the Rocky Mountains, we have options available—each with their advantages and unique style.
You may have learned in grammar class that point of view is tied to pronoun usage—and that’s true. However, it’s more helpful to think of point of view as character. Which character is telling the story? Here are the most common approaches:
First person: First person narration uses the personal pronouns I, we, my, our, etc. The narrator tells the story from his or her perspective. This is a personal, intimate approach. Readers feel like they really get to know the narrator because they are inside her head. As a writer, however, it is challenging to stay in that point of view for the entire novel. The temptation is to tell rather than show what the narrator sees, feels, tastes, etc. You’ll most often find short stories, YA and literary fiction, romances and Goth written from this point of view.
If I were to write about hiking a portion of the Denver-Grand Junction train trip or rafting a section of the Colorado River I would choose first person POV. This would allow me to describe the sights, sounds, and smells I experienced and it would give the reader the most up close and personal glimpse into my experience.
Examples of authors successfully sustaining first person point of view include Harper Lee—To Kill a Mockingbird, J.D.Salinger—Catcher in the Rye, and F. Scott Fitzgerald—The Great Gatsby.
Second person: Very little fiction is written in second person point of view. But nonfiction and self-help books often are. Using the pronouns you and your the narrator addresses the reader or audience and draws them into the story or process. The reader becomes the protagonist, but perhaps not willingly. The narrator assumes you will see and feel things the way he or she does and that may be uncomfortable or annoying.
Second person POV would be an effective way for me to write a travel piece about our recent train trip. I could tell you the best way to make connections between the airport and train station, what to pack for an eight-hour trip, sights to look for along the way, not to mention the best strategy for securing a seat in the viewing car.
Though most readers wouldn’t consider Dr. Suess’s Oh, the Places You’ll Go a self-help book, he did succeed in writing a delightful second person POV verse that’s inspired thousands as they transition into a new season of life:
“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.”
Third person: The most common POV in nearly every genre is third person. There are several variations on third person, which I’ll cover in next month’s post. For now, it’s enough to know that third person POV uses the pronouns he, she, they. And this caveat: POV errors are the most frequent mistakes editors uncover.
Til next time. What POV is your current read written in?
Have you ever tried to tell your friends about an experience you had, but they didn’t give you the response you hoped for? Maybe they didn’t laugh when you gave the punchline of the story. You then tried to cover up your shame by saying, “You just had to be there.”
If we write our books in a shallow POV rather than in deep POV, we risk that same “cricket chirping” response from our audience. We’re narrating a story that could come across as much more powerful if we chose to instead invite the reader to experience it.
Deep POV is a way of showing rather than telling. It’s a writing technique that has grown in popularity over the past couple decades or so. When we write in deep POV, we’re giving our readers the opportunity to step into our protagonist’s shoes. They’ll walk through the pages of the story as if they themselves were the character.
If we can accomplish this, the setting will come to life. The journey that the protagonist takes will have more of an impact on the reader. Why? Because the reader wasn’t simply told about an experience our character had; they journeyed along with them.
Readers today–especially fans of YA fiction–search for these stories. They long to open a book and become transported into a different time and place. They want to forget about their surroundings, and even forget that they’re reading a book. They’re searching for stories that sweep them off their feet in an entertaining, thrilling, and emotional rollercoaster.
How can we, as authors, offer this kind of reading experience to our readers?
Avoid all traces of authorship. Resist the urge to tell the story. Engage all five senses. And when you write, step through the scene as if you are the character. This means you can only show the scene through their eyes. Everything must be filtered through your protagonist’s POV.
Here’s an example:
NOT Deep POV: Anna saw the bouquet of roses on the dining room table and smelled their sweet scent. Who brought these? she wondered.
Deep POV: Anna stepped into the kitchen, overtaken by a floral aroma. Where did that come from? The scent grew stronger as she peered into the dining room. A smile slid onto her lips. There it was. A bouquet of roses, tucked into a glass vase at the center of the table. Where could that have come from?
Notice how deep POV requires more words. If we want to offer this experience to our readers, it will require more work. Showing a scene almost always requires more words. But the payoff is worth it.
In the example that isn’t written in deep POV, the words “saw”, “smelled”, and “wondered” brings the reader out of Anna’s POV. It tells the audience what happened, yes—but it does so in a narrative form.
This is the difference between telling a friend about a scene from a movie and letting them watch it for themself.
When writing in shallow POV, we risk the scene from coming to life in the reader’s imagination. We risk not giving our readers the opportunity to build a strong connection with our protagonist.
You might say, “Books weren’t always written in deep POV, yet people still enjoyed them. Why can’t I write my book in shallow POV, too?”
Think of it this way: Movies weren’t always filmed in color. Yet, the use of color in today’s films brings scenes to life. It provides an even deeper sense of realism and escapism. Why use tools of the past when we’ve been given far more powerful tools to tell our story?
If you want your book to resonate with today’s reader, and if you want to sell your book to an agent/publisher, I recommend utilizing this deep POV writing technique. Most agents and publishers today will reject or ask for a revision if a manuscript is written in shallow POV.
No, this isn’t an easy task to accomplish. It requires far more work. But you’re painting color to a black-and-white story. You’re adding “scratch and sniff” pages to your book. The result? Your readers will be brought deeper into the heart, mind, and emotions of your POV character.
The motivations of your protagonist will become more clear. The character ARC, more realistic. And when your protagonist reaches his/her “epiphany moment” at the end of the story, so will your reader. Thus, the theme of your story will have far more impact to your readers than if it were written in shallow POV.
So if you can accomplish this—if you write your story in deep POV—you won’t have to risk the “cricket chirping” response. You won’t have to tell your readers, “You just had to be there.”
Because they were there. They lived it. You wrote a book that entertained, provided escapism, tapped into emotions.
And as writers, shouldn’t that be our ultimate goal of storytelling anyway?
What’s your opinion of deep POV? Have you tried to write a story that utilizes this technique? Share your thoughts in the comments!
[bctt tweet=”What is Deep POV, and why is It Important? @TessaEmilyHall #amwriting #writerslife” via=”no”]
Welcome to The Efficiency Addict column, helping writers work more effectively every single day. For the next few months, I’ll be taking a break from posting here, but until I return, I’ve lined up some great guest bloggers to share their best writing tips with you!
This month we’ll hear from Kathleen Neely, a retired educator who wrote and sold her first book in just 9 months. To read about her experience from start to sold, visit her website at KathleenNeelyAuthor.com, but first see below where Kathleen shares a simple method to problem solve POV with color.
Happy Writing! ~ Cynthia Owens, The Efficiency Addict
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Point of view (POV) problems have a way of sneaking into my writing. I begin a solid scene, identify my character, and write the action through his or her mind. Then when I re-read the passage, I discover POV gone amuck.
Types of POV Problems
First there are the omniscient POV errors.
She can’t know he was thinking about baseball.
He couldn’t know that she was deliberately tuning him out.
POV characters can observe another character’s demeanor, body language, or expression. POV characters can make inferences, but they can’t know.
Then there is the issue of author intrusion. My opinion on the beauty of a floral arrangement is irrelevant and interrupts the flow. Everything must be told through the eyes and ears of the character.
Another POV fault is found by allowing your POV character to narrate. When we speak, we don’t announce that we think, we feel, we said, we asked or we wondered. Remove dialogue tags and telling words. Turn this sentence – “He felt the pain when the baseball bounced off his shoulder.” Into this sentence – “Pain shot through his shoulder when the baseball made contact.”
How to Problem Solve POV
As a former teacher, I coached my students to be problem solvers.
“Mrs. Neely, I don’t have a pencil.”
“That’s a problem. Be a problem solver. “
“I forgot to write down the pages we need to read.”
“That’s a problem. Be a problem solver.”
(A little author intrusion right now—parents and teachers, never stop doing that. It moves dependent students to become independent thinkers.)
So now, faced with a dilemma, I needed to be a problem solver. I created a visual memory aide to help me keep on track – Color Coded POV’s.
The idea is simple. I choose a color for each of my POV characters. When I write a scene from his or her point of view, I turn my font into their designated color.
Will this technique avoid POV problems? Definitely not. They’ll still squirrel their way into your writing. But now they’ll be easier to locate. They should shout, jump, and wave their arms at you, begging to be seen. No longer will you have to wonder whose POV you’re supposed to be in.
Making Your Colors Count
Color coding not only provides a visual reminder, it can also reflect the nature of your character.
Red – power, energy, passion, intensity
Green – nature, outdoors, generosity
Yellow – joy, optimism, idealism, hope
Blue – loyalty, truthful, security
Purple – royalty, wisdom, noble
Orange – enthusiasm, flamboyant, warmth
Gray – age, maturity, grief
White – reverence, virginity, cleanliness
Black – formal, elegant, sophisticated
When you change scenes and font colors, stop to re-read what was just written. Do all elements of the scene match the correct POV? When you log-off for the day, let the words rest, but revisit them fresh when you log on the next day. Reviewing them will help you catch intrusions as well as prepare your mind to pick up where you left off. And when you finally say “The End,” a simple click, click, click will change the brilliant, colorful text back to its automatic boring black. Now all the brilliance will be in your story not the font.
Sharables – Because sharing is fun!
[bctt tweet=”Problem solve your POV issues with color-coded characters. #HowTo” username=”EfficiencyADict”]
[bctt tweet=”A simple trick to write in deep POV. #WritersLife #AmWriting” username=”EfficiencyADict”]
Bio: Kathleen Neely is an award winning author, receiving first place for her debut novel, The Least of These, in the Almost an Author Fresh Voices Contest. She won second place in a short story contest through the Virginia Chapter of the American Christian Fiction Writers . You can read two of her short stories in A Bit of Christmas – 6 Christian Short Stories Celebrating the Season, available on Amazon. Along with numerous guest blog appearances, Kathleen is a regular contributor to ChristianDevotions.us. She lives in Greenville, SC with her husband, Vaughn, and enjoys time with family, reading, and traveling.
