It's a little
more obvious than Mary Stewart, but the 'leg' reference is important to
the story. Still, it's not much. A good writer isn't going to give us much
in 1st person. That's the beauty AND the difficulty of writing in
this POV. 1st person puts you right inside the heroine's head from the
opening line, and never lets you out. Everything is seen from the
heroine's eyes. Everything. Nothing happens "off screen." Nothing
happens that is not in the heroine's presence. It's just like real life.
Moving into
modern writers, Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series is written in
first person. In LEAN MEAN THIRTEEN, we get an immediate sense of
Stephanie (if we already don't know her from the previous
twelve books!)
For the
past five minutes I've been parked outside my cousin Vinnie's bail bonds
office in my crapolla car, debating whether to continue on with my day,
or to return to my apartment and crawl back into bed. My name is
Stephanie Plum, and Sensible Stephanie wanted to go back to bed. Loco
Stephanie was thinking she should get on with it.
I was
about to do something I knew I shouldn't do. The signs were all there in
front of me. Sick stomach. Feeling of impending disaster. Knowledge that
it was illegal. And yet, I was going to forge ahead with the plan. Not
that this was especially unusual. Truth is, I've been dealing with
impending doom for as long as I can remember. Heck, when I was six years
old I sprinkled sugar on my head, convinced myself it was pixie dust,
wished myself invisible, and walked into the boy's bathroom at school. I
mean you don't know the water's over your head until you jump in, right?
When you
read that opening paragraph, you've got to either love or hate Stephanie
Plum. Whatever you're feeling about her, you know she's a character to be
reckoned with.
What else do we know about her from that
excerpt???
►
She's arrogant
► Discontented
with her life
► Impulsive
yet self-analytical
►
Fearless
►
Has a conscience but doesn't
listen to it often
Third Person.
You can use
third person just like first person, if you stay in one person's head and
never switch viewpoints.
But using
third person does allow the author to occasionally use what is called
NARRATOR VOICE, which you can't do with first person. This should be used
carefully by novice writers.
In ASHES TO
ASHES by Tami Hoag, she brilliantly switches viewpoint 3 or 4 times
(depending on how you wish to classify the POVs) in 3 paragraphs. Her
switches occur at an extraordinarily tense moment between the hero and
heroine, when they meet for the first time in a long time.
Quinn
stared at her. No one took him by surprise. Ever. He'd spent a
lietime building that level of control. That Kate Conlan could walk in
the door and tilt the earth beneath his feet after all this time did not
sit well. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah. You're
missed, Kate."
By WHOM? She
wanted to ask, but instead she said, "I doubt it. The Bureau is like
the Chinese Army. The personnel could march into the sea for a year and
there'd still be plenty of warm bodies to fill the spots.
Oblivious
of the discomfort at the other end of the table, the mayor brought the
meeting to order. The press conference was less than an hour away. The
politicians needed to get their ducks in a row. Who would speak first.
Who would stand where. Who would say what. The cops combed their
mustaches and drummed their fingers on the table, impatient with the
formalities.
So we have
Quinn's POV, Kate's POV and what could either be classified as the
Narrator's POV or the mayor's then the cops' POV.
Brilliant!
Third Person
- 2 viewpoints is the perennial favorite among romance novels. Most of
the successful novels at this point in time are written in the heroine AND
the hero's point of view, and occasionally one or more secondary
characters. Although this POV is used a lot, you need to be careful in
using it, and avoid head-hopping.
There are as
many rules about how to change POV as there are editors!
Some say you
should change POV with each scene, no oftener. Some people say it can be
more often within love scenes. Others say it should never be more often
than every chapter. I'm not sure you can put a rule on it, but you should
be able to see when it works and when it doesn't.
Most editors
will tell you that a POV switch should be seamless--unnoticeable. They'll
tell you that a switch in POV should never be jarring.
Well, never
say never. Listen to this excerpt from an old novella by Anne Stuart,
The Monsters in the Closet.
He wasn't
ready to give it up. He'd come here to face it, and face it he would.
He and the house and the past would do battle. Heaven only knew who
would rise triumphant. Heaven – and hell.
He moved
slowly up the steps. The house was unlocked. He'd left word that it
should never be locked. He'd hoped the mean streets of St. Bart would
rise up and swallow it, that roving gangs would destroy it. But young
gang members kept clear of it. Leaving it still, intact, waiting for
him to return. And now he was back. Ready to face his past.
Ready to
face what lay in wait in the darkness beyond.
Ready to
face the monsters.
#
Emma Milsom
liked to think of herself as a decisive woman, but at the moment she was
in a state not far removed from complete confusion. She'd accepted the
job with Teddy Winters against her better judgment.
pg 10, 2nd paragraph
BOING!!!
Jarring POV. But isn't it wonderful?
Anne has
done a fantastic job of drawing the reader into the story. I wasn't ready
to hop into Emma Millson's head. I was just getting into the darkness and
pain of the hero, whose name, by the way, I don't even know yet!
But now, when I step back and look at that page as a writer, I see
what kept me up an hour past my bedtime. That
very switch in POV at that very moment. Now, not
only am I dying to know more about the hero and what kind of monsters he
must face in that old house, I am -- despite myself -- curious about the
heroine. Because knowing good writers as I do, I
KNOW Anne Stuart is going to fulfill my every wish and tell me before the
end of the book, not only what monsters the hero is facing, but also why
Emma Millson is in a state of almost complete confusion right now.
AND because I know I'm reading a good, trusted author, I know she's
going to tell me what Emma's confusion has to do with the hero and his
monsters.
BY THE WAY,
if you give the reader that kind of carrot in a story, you damn well
better follow through and tie up those loose ends by the end of the
story. Because if you don't the reader will never forgive you. And
readers have LONG memories.
Most of the
time you don't want the reader to be jarred in a POV switch. In fact,
most of the time you don't really want the reader to know the POV has
changed. So you aim for a seamless switch like this one from my
book A FATHER'S SACRIFICE. At least I hope it
seems seamless.
Natasha took another refreshing breath of cool night air and curled her
toes in her thong sandals, shivering as the cool dampness of the dew
spilled onto her toes.
A twig snapped behind
her. She lay her hand on her fanny pack and
slid open the nearly silent zipper.
The crunch of leaves had her whirling, slapping at her weapon.
"Hey!" Strong hands gripped her upper arms. "Whoa. It's me,
Dylan. What are you doing out here?"
She pulled away from his grip.
Had he heard her exchange with Storm? "It was
stuffy in my room. I wanted some air. And I spoke to Special Agent Storm
for a moment." She frowned at him. "Did you come out here looking for
me?"
Dylan shook his head. "I had to get out of the lab for a
while. It's nice out here tonight." He looked up at the sky. The moon
was bright, sending faint shadows across the ground and sprinkling pale
gold glitter on Natasha's hair. It floated across her shoulders, making
his fingers itch to touch it, to capture it between his hands and bury
his nose in it.
What
happened here, POV-wise? We started in Natasha's POV. She's happy to be
outside (she has claustrophobia issues). She's alert, and when she sees
Dylan, she's suspicious of his motives. So the scene starts in her POV
because she's got the most at stake. But as soon as she challenges Dylan
(Did you come out here looking for me?) the stakes change. He's
confronted. His stakes are higher at this point. So we switched to his POV
in the middle of a scene, and I hope it was seamless.
That's what
you want to do. Use the natural breaks. After a statement like that, or
at the natural end of a scene, or at the chapter break.
Another popular point of view is:
Third Person - multiple viewpoints.
There are
those that will tell you that this POV is more indicative of a mainstream
novel. Perhaps. I call this "Meanwhile back at the ranch," because more
than anything, this POV reminds me of that kind of TV mini-series that
sucks you in to one story only to wrench you out and into another.
A popular
type of book that utilizes multiple viewpoints is the saga. Personally,
I'm not fond of sagas. Just when I am really getting down to the meat of
a story -- and for me the meat means getting to know and identify with the
characters, I'm jerked out of their story and thrust into another one.
It's like watching television -- like channel surfing.
Second Person - You and yours
I only know
of one remotely successful book written in second person. Bright
Lights, Big City by Jay McEnerny, and I'm not sure he ever did it, or
ever will do it, again.
At the subway station you wait fifteen minutes on the platform
for a train. Finally, a local, enervated by graffiti, shuffles into the
station.You get a seat and hoist a copy of the New York Post. [...]
The train shudders and pitches
toward Fourteenth Street, stopping twice for breathers in the tunnel.
You are reading about Liz Taylor's new boyfriend when a sooty hand taps
your shoulder. You do not have to look up to know you are facing a
casualty, one of the city's MIAs. You are more than willing to lay some
silver on the physically handicapped, but folk with the long-distance
eyes give you the heebie-jeebies.
The second time he taps your
shoulder you look up. His clothes and hair are fairly neat, as if he had
only recently let go of social convention, but his eyes are out-to-lunch
and his mouth is working furiously.
"My birthday," he says, "is January thirteenth. I will be
twenty-nine years old."
Somehow he makes this sound
like a threat to kill you with a blunt object.
"Great," you say, going back to the paper.
Omniscient - All seeing/All knowing POV
This is fine
if you're writing a piece of expository prose, such as a certain type of
short story. Margaret Atwood in her short story TRUE TRASH, gives us an
excellent example of omniscient POV.
The waitresses are doing the dishes. Two to scrape, one to wash,
one to rinse in the scalding-hot rinsing sink, three to dry. The other
two sweep the floors and wipe off the tables. Later the number of
dryers will vary because of days off – they'll choose to take their days
off in twos, so they can double-date with the counselors – but today all
are here. It's early in the season, things are still fluid, the
territories are not yet staked out.
But the
omniscient POV tends to distance the reader -- to place her outside the
sphere of the story -- and makes it difficult for the reader to identify
with the characters.
This is why
omniscient POV may be undesirable in fiction where the author wants the
reader to identify with and care about the main character(s).
What readers
of popular fiction want to do is get inside the heads of the main
characters, the hero and the heroine, and maybe even the villain, and you
can't do that with omniscient POV.
Omniscient
POV is what you slip into when you allow your heroine to "tap a perfect
fingernail against a perfect tooth."
Now this is
a great image, and a lot of authors could get away with it. But it is a
case of jerking the reader out of the heroine's head.
The heroine
is not thinking of her nails and her teeth as perfect. This is Omni
describing the scene. Now this scene can be pulled back into the
heroine's POV with the addition of an explanatory sentence or two.
"She tapped
a perfect fingernail against a perfect tooth. Neither the nails nor the
teeth were her own. Her teeth had been capped -- for enough money to
put a respectable downpayment on a car, and the long nails were the best
silk wraps. They ought to be perfect, she thought wryly."
This is
similar to those mirror scenes we've all read. Heroines are always looking
in the mirror and describing themselves. It's an author-ploy to give the
reader the author's magnificent description of her magnificent heroine. If
you have a scene like this, try to make it pertinent to the story. If
she's looking at her hair, have her thinking how hard it is to tame that
head full of wild curls, rather than just admiring her auburn tresses. J
Popular
styles evolve in writing, just as they do in everything else, and
currently the popular style in romance seems to be stories related from
the hero and the heroine's POV with occasional forays into secondary
characters. For many other types of writing it is different. Many times
mysteries are from one POV only, or from the protagonist and the villain's
POV.
Science
fiction and fantasy writers seem to enjoy getting in as many different
characters as possible, as do thriller writers.
In a romance
novel, you should be aiming for a peculiar kind of omnipresence (not
omniscience!). Jayne Ann Krentz in
Dangerous Men, Adventurous Women put it this way. She said:
"In a
really good romance, the experience for the reader is that of being in
both the heroine's mind and the hero's at the same time. The
reader knows what each character is feeling, what each is sensing, how
each is being affected. She is also profoundly aware of the
transcendent quality of the experience, of how it will alter the course
of both the hero's and heroine's life. The whole thing is incredibly
complex, exciting, and difficult to describe."
And this is
not just true of romance, but of all types of fiction.