Point of View, Part Two

On voice, filtering, and close (or not-so-close) POV.

This post is part of the Write With Me series. For more like this, check out the writing your novel page.

Now that we've established the notion of point of view in this post, let's hop right in to what to watch for with it when writing. We'll treat each POV in a separate section.

First Person

I'm of the opinion that the first person is the most straightforward POV to write because you can put yourself directly in the POV character's perspective to watch out for common mistakes. Let's take a look at a few mistakes to avoid when writing in the first person.

The "I" Has It

Let's say you have a main character named Xander. The below could be a scene from your manuscript.

Fridays are always the worst. Leaning back in my chair, staring up at the in-laid tiles on the ceiling, I pass the hours hurling pencils toward it in an attempt to see how many I can get stuck by punch-out time. Eighteen's the record in case you're curious. Eighteen pencils in eight hours. You'd think a man with twelve years of practice could do better than that. To be honest, Xander really should have. Today I manage nine. Nine! Pathetic. I stand on my chair and pluck each pencil from the ceiling, one-by-one.

Well, the issue here probably sticks out like light-up sneakers in a dark garage. The reference to "Xander" in the third person is a break from first-person POV, and reads as though the comment is coming from the narrator itself. Replacing Xander with "I" tidies this up nicely.

Of course, the character could refer to themselves in the third person as if talking to themselves or making self-aware commentary. The line in question could be revised to something like:

A real dolt, me. The magnificent Xander: piss-poor at even the mundane.

This isn't a point of view shift since we can read it in the character's voice and know it's self-referential.

Realistically, POV shifts of the variety displayed in the paragraph above tend to be of little concern for most folks writing in the first person. It is definitely worth watching out for if you previously wrote a piece in the third person and are now shifting to first, however. That's where mistakes can be made.

Inner Monologue and The Observable Universe

When writing in the first person, it's important to ensure that your character's thoughts remain grounded in information he actually has available to him at the time of the scene. Not only that, but the experience of the world should be based on this character's direct observations. To explore this, let's return to Xander and his scene in the office.

Somewhere down the hall, Johnny Copymachine is waxing poetic about how he could've been a famous film producer. Malcolm is listening politely while Cora bows out before Johnny can ask her if she'd like to star in another one of his so-called indie films. Last time he asked, she agreed to a bit role for the sake of saving face around the office, and when she showed up on set (if you could really call it that), Johnny Copymachine had the bollocks to tell her it was a nudey bit. A real mess, the whole thing.

All of the information in the above paragraph could be true, but how do we know Xander knows all this? Last we knew, Xander was standing on his chair in his office. One could assume Xander knows this because it is a matter of routine, or that he can hear these events taking place (but how could he "hear" Cora bowing out of the office? Remember, in first-person POV (barring any magical powers), your main character should only have access to the past and the observable world (from where they are or were in it at the time the events occurred). Let's revise the above to ground it a bit more in the first person.

Somewhere down the hall, Johnny Copymachine's voice is waxing poetic about how he could've been a famous film producer. Sounds as though Malcolm is politely engaged, but if Cora's around—and she's always around the copier—she's surely bowing out before Johnny can ask her to be in another one of his so-called indie films. Rumor has it that the last time she agreed to a bit part in one of his videos, he had the bollocks to tell her it was a nudey bit. Brent in HR said the whole thing was a damn mess to sort out, given that it happened off-hours and off-property, but it was a damn mess all the same.

Bam. Same information (in fact, we get more this time), and it remains grounded in Xander's POV throughout the excerpt. The crucial bit here is that we know how he knows what he knows—direct observation (hearing), hearsay (rumors), and supposition (based on what he knows of people from past interaction). This helps readers develop a better feel for the credibility of the information they're being given as well, which can be an asset in many circumstances.

Second Person

Writing in the second person? I wish... I wish I could be of some assistance. My experience with the second person is so limited (read: read non-existent), that it'd be a disservice for me to attempt to assist with it. I can imagine, however, that similar rules apply here as would apply in the first person: keep things grounded in what the "you" can actually see, hear, taste, smell, and touch, while also ensuring they don't consider information that hasn't been previously provided to them.

That being said, let's hop into the third person, specifically third-person limited.

Third-Person Limited

We can use our analysis of the first-person POV when looking at the third person as well—we just have to do it from a slightly different angle.

Mind Your "He" and Remember Your "She"

Making sure you keep consistent with your personal pronouns should be as easy here as it was for first person. In this case, if your narrative voice refers to your main character as "I" or part of a "we," then you've got a POV inconsistency on your hands.

Because I kind of like this Xander guy, let's rework our original paragraph with him so that it's in the third person. We'll use that as a starting point for some example editing.

Fridays are always the worst. Leaning back in his chair, staring up at the in-laid tiles on the ceiling, Xander passes the hours hurling pencils toward it in an attempt to see how many he can get stuck by punch-out time. Eighteen's the record. Eighteen pencils in eight hours. A man with twelve years of practice should do better than that. If he's honest with himself, Xander really should have. Today he manages nine. Nine! Pathetic. He stands on his chair and plucks each pencil from the ceiling, one-by-one.

Ugh. It reads strangely, doesn't it? Let's explore why.