See Me/You/He, She, It Again

Although we’ve worked with perspective before, it’s an issue that often re-appears in our conversations, and the sticking point is generally the idea of POV shifts in the third person. Why, you might ask, can’t I enter the minds of more than one character in the third person?

Here’s a response:

1. RULES: There is no rule against the use of an omniscient narrator – of course there isn’t – but it is true today that many stories written in the third-person perspective, are written in the third-person limited perspective. This means that the story resides near one character, though it may shift to another between chapters or sections. You’ll find that stories that are written from an omniscient perspective generally have something in common: a very strong narrative voice that is the controlling force of the story. Think of One Hundred Years of Solitude. We follow that story from character to character because the narrator leads us there carefully. Each move that the narrator makes in that novel, is made for a reason that is clear to the reader. The voice is thick and big and easily identifiable.

2. READERS: Frequent shifts between characters in the third person that take place without an apparent system of logic irritate readers. They can become lost, they can feel violated, and worst of all, they can lose faith in the writer. Frequent shifts between characters in the third person can also prevent readers from fully entering the world of the story. Readers would rather understand the story from one character’s perspective, than know what everyone in the book is thinking about everything that happens, if it means that they can spend a little quality time getting to know that one character. In other words, rather than opening the story, frequent POV shifts often close the story to readers, restricting them to a surface level.

3. TRAPS: Many writers fall into the POV shift trap early on because they simply don’t know the stakes. But others fall in because (in truth) it is easier to tell readers what characters are thinking or hiding than finding ways to show it. For many readers and editors alike, shifts in the third-person are signs of laziness or sloppiness. Even if you’re making a deliberate choice, that choice may be interpreted in that way. You should know that before you decide to take the risk.

4. PREROGATIVE: It’s yours. But a little time spent deciding exactly why you’ve made the choice you’ve made in terms of perspective is a gift you should give yourself. You deserve it.

In The News:

BEDFORD, New Hampshire (AP) -- A woman turned herself in to police Wednesday after a store surveillance video captured footage of two children sneaking behind display cases to steal thousands of dollars worth of jewelry, allegedly on instructions from their mother and grandmother.

Find a way to enter this story – it’s a real one, pulled from the headlines today. Your first choice should be narrative perspective. Think about why you’ve chosen to write from 1st, 2nd, or some variety of 3rd and be ready to talk about it. Then write a short short.

Styling A Style

Some writers are known for their style. You know their writing as theirs when you read or hear it because the choices they make in terms of language are distinctive and unique to them. On one end of the style spectrum, you’ve got voicey writers. Think of Barry Hannah who, in describing a dream he once had (of a bar and after giving up liquor), writes, “pickled eggs in a massive jar at the end of a dark-wooded gold-wrapped bar, immense.” A writer with a more transparent style of writing might have described this dream differently, “there was a jar of eggs at the end of the bar,” for example. But Hannah is a writer who is interested in the way the sounds of words in combination can effect their meaning. Lots of folks cite writers like Hemingway and Hempel as standing firmly at the transparent end of the style spectrum. (You’ll see an excerpt from Hempel at the bottom.)

Both voicey and transparent styles have their merits, as do styles that land somewhere in the middle. And different styles serve different purposes. But how do most writers come upon their styles? Is it a choice? Something you’re born with? If you asked Barry Hannah how he found his style, I think he’d tell you it had something to do with learning to pay attention to the story he wanted to tell and then locating the right voice to tell it in. Read about it in his essay “Mr. Brain, He Want A Song.” It’s in a book of essays about writing called The Eleventh Draft, one which I highly recommend to you.

Finding your style might have a good deal to do with finding your voice, which is often regarded as a sort of essence of self, communicated through the writing. But it’s probably important to note that your style might shift considerably between projects and change over time. Writers make many stylistic changes, but the truth is likely that we can never quite escape ourselves. Even if we make serious changes in our approaches to stories, signs of our selves will remain.

What’s your style?

Maybe you feel you’ve already found your style, or maybe you’re still hunting it down. Either way, trying on different styles is a good way of sussing out some margins for yourself. Let’s do a little of that today, shall we? Spend a few minutes re-writing the following passage from Amy Hempel’s story “In A Tub,” using a very very voicey voice. Then, using your re-write as the template, re-write the passage using a different voice. You may add any details or ruminations that you like, but let’s keep it in first-person POV and stick with the basic scenario of a character standing on a deck.

At the back of my house I can stand in the light from the sliding glass door and look out onto the deck. The deck is planted with marguerites and succulents in red clay pots. One of the pots is empty. It is shallow and broad, and filled with water like a birdbath.