It's not surprising that a conversation about writing eventually turns to a conversation about point-of-view (POV). Exactly how the narrative shapes the perspective of the story will have a direct impact on the reader's experience.
The POV is not just about understanding which character will act as the narrator. Yes, that's part of it, but the POV also has a depth of perception that defines how much the reader knows about what is going on.
Classifying the POV isn't as straightforward as saying that a passage uses first, second, or third person. It's much more than that.
Today, let's look at an overview of the different narrative POVs that you might find within fiction, include a few examples, and possibly provide some insights into what effect the different POVs might have.
(I do need to apologize for the long post, but it is what it is.)
First Person
To put it simply, first person is any narrative that uses the pronouns of I, me, we, my, our, etc. The narrator is a character in the thick of the action, conveying the story from their own perspective. We learn how they perceive others and the events going on around them, and through their interpretations, we gain insight into their own thoughts and emotions.
First person is commonly seen in young adult stories and in category romance. Even crime noir has their fair share of first-person stories.
I was enjoying my bourbon, staring out at the rain streaking down the window, when she walked through my door. (Okay, that was bad, and cliche, but those old Private Dick stories can be soooo cliche. Fun, but cliche.)
For an example that isn't so cliche… The following passage (something I wrote for another blog post) uses first person, past tense.
It was like someone decided to turn my head into a bongo drum. The pulsating was nauseating. I have no idea how long I laid there on that floor, my eyes closed and taking breath after breath, trying to keep my stomach from heaving, but it was long enough for my tongue to stick to the roof of my mouth.
The first-person POV gives an angel-on-the-shoulder feel to the narrative. We, the readers, get a sense of what the character is experiencing, what they're feeling and thinking, like we were right there—in their shoes. As the POV character learns things, we learn them too.
The reason why many writers turn to first person is because of the connectivity that the narrative style provides to the POV character. However, don't think that if you write in first person your narrative will instantly become more intimate. For first person to read well, there is a depth of perception that is necessary—something that many writers (particularly new writers) misunderstand.
To get more information about the depth of perception needed in first person, check out the post Is first person really more intimate?
First person doesn't need to be from the protagonist.
Just because a story is written in first person doesn't mean that your narrator is the main character or the protagonist of the story. Case in point, Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Watson is the POV character, but Holmes is the main character. This strategy puts the reader in the same clueless state that Watson was, so when Sherlock Holmes was explaining his deductive reasoning to Watson, the reader was getting the explanation too.
Second Person
Second-person narratives are designed to appeal directly to the audience by using the pronouns you and your. In second person, the POV character is the reader. Everything is from the reader's perspective, which is also why second person is one of the hardest POV narratives to write—every reader perceives things differently.
Many editors will say that advertisers use second person in their sales pitches—You won't find a better deal—but in reality, they're using first person, breaking the fourth wall, talking directly to the reader.
Remember, this is about who the POV character is. Within advertising, the POV character is the person who writes the advertising. It's the written form of the used car salesman showing you the latest lemon that he's trying to offload on some unsuspecting buyer.
However, within fiction, second person puts the reader in that POV character role. It strips the direct emotional connection to the story, providing information about reactions and physical sensations. It's not just a matter of saying, "You ran down the stairs and tripped." Like all fiction, you still need to foster the emotional engagement of the reader—something that isn't easily done in second person.
The key to working with second-person narratives is to think of the narrator as a person giving the reader a set of instructions to follow. The narrator might be standing right next to you (or more appropriately your reader), so they can see everything that you can see, but you become the main character of the story.
Consider the following passage (which is from one of my short stories yet to be published):
Go on. You know you want to. It was why you picked up the knife, wasn't it? It's sharp, straight edge finely honed to slice through flesh. It doesn't matter that his head is already caved in. With all the other monsters that exist, there is no way to know for sure if he'll stay down for the count. The crumpled heap at your feet was determined to kill you, and he wasn't going to stop until he achieved his objective.
(If you can't deduce that my personal writing has dark overtones to it, I've failed as a writer.)
Other examples of second-person narratives include Romeo and/or Juliet by Ryan North (a chose-your-own adaptation of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet) and The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (which uses both second-person and third-person, omniscient narratives — more on omniscient below).
Third person
The simplest definition of third person is a narrative that uses the pronouns of he, she, they, her, him, hers, his, their, and whatever the modern genderless pronouns exists these days (and those keep changing so I can't keep up—I'll stick with they).
Between first, second, and third person, I see third person the most frequently. Within most adult genres that I work with and enjoy reading, it's third person that seems to be the preferred favorite—though first person is starting to make a frequent appearance.
Within third person, the narrator is someone outside of the main action describing what they see by looking in, but how close they are to that action will depend on which variant of third person is being used.
Time to get a little confusing.
Third-Person Omniscient
The omniscient POV is the narrator-from-above approach. They can see all and they know all. They can dip in and out of various characters' heads, so the reader gets a sense of what multiple characters are thinking and feeling. But the real power of omniscient is that the reader gets to know what is going on in multiple parts of the world at the same time.
Take this example from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen:
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.
In this short passage, we get what both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy think about one another. There is no clear POV character, because that POV character is the narrator seeing the world from above.
The list of other examples of omniscient POV stories is large, but just to name a few:
- The Discworld Series by Terry Pratchett
- The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien
- Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
- Term Limits by Vince Flynn
- The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
- Price and Prejudice by Jane Austen
- Stardust by Neil Gaiman
- The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
While there is a large number of works written in omniscient, it is also one of the POV narratives that is hardest to execute well. If the transitions between characters' thoughts happen too quickly and without a smooth transition, it can produce a whiplash effect, where the reader struggles to keep up with where they're meant to be and whose head they're in. In essence, there is a fine line between omniscient narrative and head-hopping. We'll talk more about head-hopping below.
Third-Person Limited
The limited view shifts the narrator to a stance much closer to the action, sticking to the perspectives of a single character. The depth of perception can be shallow, like the narrator is standing behind the POV character, seeing what they see, but not necessarily getting their thoughts or feelings. Or, the narrative can move into what is known as Deep POV, where the narrative borders on first person.
Consider this passage (from a client's manuscript, shared with her permission):
Upon arriving at the church, Bojan pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He hefted his large frame out of the car and leaned up against the rear passenger door. He was intent on enjoying his smoke. Anto exited the car and stood next to him, puffing away like a madman.
Bojan sighed. With each drag of his smoke, more of the tension that had built up in his shoulders drained away. "At least we don't have to pay off that damn priest on this deal he's away for some kind of surgery."
Within this passage, we are in Bojan's head, seeing things the way he sees them, but we're not privy to his thoughts or emotions. They are there, but only on the surface. It's like the narrator is right next to Bojan, but not actually in Bojan's skin.
This level of perception is common and seen in a wide range of genres. But the industry is moving towards a desire for deeper POVs.
Consider the following passage (which is from one of my own manuscripts):
The cursor blinked, constant and even, demanding a name. Any name.
Veronica gritted her teeth. If she threw her laptop out the window, would that really be a problem? Sure, there would be the cost to repair the double-paned window and the cost of a new laptop, mainly because her current one would be in pieces sprawled across the sidewalk, but… As she tallied the costs involved, the zero balance of her bank account flashed before her eyes. The only way she would be able to afford the new computer or a new window would be from the royalties when she finally sold a book.
(I think you can see the underlying frustrations that I was feeling when I wrote that passage.)
Both the Bojan and Veronica passages are from a limited POV, staying focused on the perceptions of a single character. However, the second passage moves deeper into the character where the thoughts and emotions become blended into the narrative.
I need to point out that neither depth of perception is better than the other. Both have their uses. In fact, those who frequently work in Deep POV will often shift in and out of that depth, creating a varied distancing within the narrative itself. But, I hope that from the examples you can see the effect on the reader experience that the two depths have.
Multi-POV Stories
In general, a shift of POV character requires a scene or chapter break. The one exception to this is omniscient view, where the narrator moves in and out of characters seamlessly, giving the reader a broad view of what is happening.
In The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, the bulk of the story is in omniscient view. The shifts between characters are restricted to the characters present in the scene, and no scene breaks are required. However, when the narrative moves between second person and omniscient (or vice versa), there is a chapter break to aid the reader through the transition.
Within romance novels written in first person, it is common to see both perspectives represented within a single chapter, but there is always a section break or some other delimiter that signals to the reader we've moving to a different perspective.
And within third-person, limited narratives, that section or chapter break is vital to avoid head hopping.
If a story is in first person or second person, that POV is static. Unless your POV character is a mind reader, there shouldn't be any comments about what the other characters are thinking. All discussions about the other characters in the scene should be confined to their actions and the POV character's interpretations.
Head hopping
So, what exactly is head hopping? Well, it's those moments within a manuscript where the limited narrative suddenly shifts (often for only a line or two) into the head of another character. We, as the reader, get information about what the non-POV character is thinking.
And the fastest way to tell if the narrative is head hopping and NOT omniscient… It's a third-person narrative that has been firmly in one head until it suddenly shifted to another character, then it shifted back again a sentence or two later.
Consider the following (something written for this post specifically):
Sally glared at her brother Pete, heat rising to her cheeks and air being forced out of her nose. She was sick of him saying one thing then doing another, and she was going to make him pay. "How dare you think you could just come back. Why did you tell mom?"
Pete shrugged and grinned. He just waited for the real fireworks to begin.
Within the first paragraph, we are firmly in Sally's head, but come the second paragraph, we suddenly switch to Pete.
How would Sally know that Pete was waiting for her to explode? What is it about his actions that told her that?
Head hopping is a problem because the sudden shifts can be disorienting. Don't believe me? Just think about any movie or TV show where the camera flips from character to character as the characters are talking. If those camera transitions are not carefully planned and smooth, a viewer could easily experience motion sickness.
(In the opening sequence of Star Trek: Into the Darkness, I had to close my eyes and wait for that initial fight scene to finish, or I was going to throw up—and I love Star Trek.)
I will admit that the example given above has the potential to come from an omniscient narrative, which is why an editor such as myself will look at the narrative for a much larger section before deciding if the story is meant to be in omniscient or not. But keep in mind that the industry seems to favor limited POVs.
Head-hopping = bad.
Regardless of the POV narrative that you chose, be consistent, but don't be afraid to mix it up. I have read stories that had multiple POVs with one of the POVs being in first person and the others in third-person, limited.
As long as you understand how the different narrative styles work, you can work magic.