As well as writing amazing stories (he he!), I run a full-time creative support business. It includes editing, mentoring, teaching, book layouts, and other publishing support for authors and publishers.
In my last post, I looked at filter words. Character ‘point-of-view’ or ‘POV’ is another writing issue close to my heart, because I love writing that transports me into another’s experience and journey. The more unique and interesting the better! But when point-of-view isn’t handled correctly, it jars me out of and disconnects me from my reading (though please note there are exceptions*).
Definition
Character ‘point-of-view’ is the perspective from which writers choose to describe an event or experience. Once we have selected that perspective, we can narrate from that POV’s experience, but nobody else’s (not without first switching clearly and decisively into that other POV – see below). The main choices for POV are:
- first person (I, me, my)
- second person (you, your)
- third person close or deep (she/her, he/his)
- third person omniscient (all-knowing, all-seeing)
For example, if we decide to narrate a story from the perspective of Jane written in close third person, we can see, hear, touch, smell, taste and know everything Jane does, as if we’re inside her head in real life. We can experience everything she experiences. However, we cannot experience what John experiences. If we do describe John’s thoughts and feelings, without first clearly and decisively moving into his POV, we would be ‘head-hopping’.
We also cannot see, hear or know what Jane’s whole village experiences, or predict the future – because Jane cannot do those things. A third person omniscient narration could, but not Jane. She can certainly guess at what her village thinks, and she can guess at the future, but she cannot know for sure. To do otherwise would be to slip out of close third person and into third person omniscient. For example:
Jane was certain the argument had finished. But John still had another card up his sleeve.
We can’t know this about John. Jane could, however, guess at it from the way John smiles:
Jane was certain the argument had finished. But John smiled like he still had another card up his sleeve.
Symptoms
The main effects of head-hopping on a reader are disorientation, confusion and disconnection. In the above uncorrected example, we don’t know why Jane suddenly knows what John knows, and might back-track and re-read the text to work it out. That, however, would be distracting and destroy both tension and trust with the writer. If we head-hop into a POV for no apparent reason, it can also produce a lack of focus in the text. Again, this endangers the trust we have in the writer to tell a well-focused narrative.
Causes
Mistakes in POV can be caused by a lack of practice, lazy tension-building, or an over-reliance on the classics. Many writers enjoy reading the classics, many of which were written in omniscient third person. Therefore, even when writing in close third person, writers can be tempted to tell readers everything they know about their characters, both on and off stage, because they’ve grown up reading similar details.
But most modern readers prefer to experience a single character’s perspective at a time. We enjoy the intimacy, and don’t need to know everything all at once, as not-knowing creates an enjoyable mystery for us to discover. We love those classics too, but not the old-fashioned way they were written!
Sometimes writers can also be tempted to dip into omniscient third person to build tension. For example, they might want to use lines such as ‘little did Jane know that across town the chief of police had other ideas’ or ‘if only she knew how big a storm was brewing’. However, this is lazy tension-building and should be replaced with tension that actually derives from plot or character.
Luckily, as soon as most of my clients understand POV, they usually treat their manuscripts easily enough, or get help.
Treatment
Since every narrative needs a POV (and sometimes more than one), it’s not a question of eliminating POVs, but managing them properly.
Firstly, so that readers can keep track of the perspective they are in, the selected POV needs to be made clear as soon as possible, and at least within the first 1-2 paragraphs. Then that POV should be presented consistently. For example, if we’re in Michelle’s POV, she wouldn’t see what Paul does here:
Michelle turned her back on him.
“Ha!” Paul snapped. “That’s typical of you!” He glared at her before storming out the kitchen and slamming the door behind him.
Here’s the same scene with the POV corrected:
Michelle turned her back on him.
“Ha!” Paul snapped. “That’s typical of you!” His footsteps slammed into the kitchen tiles and out the room. The door slammed shut.
We also have to consider how POVs refer to themselves and what they think of their own actions. For example, if we’re in Johnson’s POV, he’s unlikely to refer to himself as Officer Johnson, or think of himself as rude:
“Take me to the wharf,” Officer Johnson demanded rudely, throwing himself into the back of the cab.
Corrected:
“Take me to the wharf,” Johnson demanded, throwing himself into the back of the cab.
Sometimes POV can slip because of extra information the writer wants to get across. In that case, we need to consider whether the information is important to the plot. If it is, then we need to convey it through our selected POV, such as by their inferring or guessing details. Just as we do in real life, they can ask questions, listen to others’ answers and read other characters’ body language, they can observe and deduce. For example, if we’re in Jane’s POV, we can’t know how John is feeling or thinking:
Jane put down her book. John was furious. He’d been assured the car was fixed.
Corrected through dialogue:
Jane put down her book. John’s hands were balled into fists. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“The garage assured me the car was fixed.”
Also for example, Wayne can’t know how being dragged feels for this cowboy. He can only deduce from the evidence.
Wayne punched the cowboy onto his back, then dragged him to his horse.
“Let me go!” the cowboy screeched as sticks and stones tore through his shirt to scratch his skin, drawing blood.
Corrected:
Wayne punched the cowboy onto his back, then dragged him to his horse.
“Let me go!” the cowboy screeched.
When Wayne pulled him upright, his shirt back was torn, blood seeped through the gashes.
We also have to pay attention to tone. Each POV should have its own distinctive narrative voice – with language choices that reflect that POV’s age and background, favourite phrases or words, and unique speaking rhythms. For example, if Georgie is a young girl she’s unlikely to use words such as ‘extricating’ or ‘incessant’:
Georgie backed away from the bullies, quietly extricating herself from their incessant teasing.
Corrected:
Georgie backed away from the bullies. Their mean voices picked at her like seagulls on a cream bun.
We need to watch for relevance too. For example, if Gill is busy rehearsing her lines, she wouldn’t even think to describe her own eyes as jade green, as this is both an external observation and irrelevant to her current concerns:
While Gill rehearsed her lines, a makeup artist hurried over.
Hairspray in hand, she eased stray stands of hair away from Gill’s jade green eyes. “Gorgeous,” she whispered.
Corrected by having someone else make the observation:
While Gill rehearsed her lines, a makeup artist hurried over.
Hairspray in hand, she eased stray stands of hair away from Gill’s eyes. “Gorgeous,” she whispered. “Your eyes are such a beautiful jade green.”
*Exceptions
We can use multiple POVs in the same story if in doing so we broaden its voices or ideas, or enhances the narrative. But we first have to be sure multiple POVs work with the story. The best POVs are ones that reveal key narrative details to readers, advance plots or themes. Generally, the fewer POVs in a single story the better. So if a POV doesn’t have a specific function, we should consider deleting it. After all, what purpose would that POV otherwise serve?
When introducing a new POV, it’s then best to use a scene or chapter break to clearly and decisively indicate switches. Immediately after that break, we should state the new POV as soon as possible (perhaps even by listing the POV as a sub-heading), and ensure the new POV has its own distinctive narrative voice.
Of course, there are exceptions to every rule. Highly skilled or well-loved writers can switch POVs mid-sentence if they want to and we won’t even notice. One example of this is ‘Where the Crawdads Sing’ by Delia Owens, where multiple shifting POVs work because the characters have been so well established individually before mixing up the POVs, so we already feel at home in each character’s perspective.
Exercise:
Can you fix the POV mistakes in this:
Major Davy led his best friends, Jane and John, into the pie shop. “What’s everyone having? My treat.”
Jane was happy at least someone had remembered her and her husband’s anniversary. Trust Davy to be so thoughtful.
John eyed the sausage rolls. He was so hungry and there were only two left.
Questions?
Do you consistently make POV mistakes? Do you have any exceptions to share? Let me know in the comments below! Need editing help? Send me a message!
