Tag: Writers’ Craft

Who is telling your story and why

Point of view is simply that: who is telling your story?

While that definition may be simple, sometimes choosing who is telling your story can present a conundrum to the author. Is the story better suited to first person or third person? Or is your story compelling enough it requires second person?

Perhaps a review of what those points of view actually mean, and why you might chose one, is called for.

First Person

First person point of view is easily identified as an I story, meaning there is one point of view, told from the main character, or narrator’s, perspective. For example, the opening sentence of my novel, Shadow Song:

I remember the summer I met Shadow Song was so green it hurt my eyes.

In this case, the story is told entirely from the perspective of Danielle Michelle Fleming. It is her story, and while the story she tells deeply revolves around the characters of an Anishnabe midewewin, and her uncle, Edgar Fleming, it still remains her story. We discover the world of the backwoods of 1830s Upper Canada from her perspective. We experience her adoption and inculcation into Anishnabe society, and that tight perspective very much conveys the sense of a stranger in a strange land.

Because of that point of view, the story becomes intimate, as though she were sitting across the fire relating to you her experiences.

Employing first person narrative does just that: creates intimacy. It also narrows the scope of the story because everything must be seen and experienced through the eyes of that one character. So, being able to jump into the head of a secondary character isn’t possible, which means you have to be sure your main character has a strong enough voice to carry the story.

However, it is also possible to tell your story from several points of view while still employing first person. I did just that in my novel The Rose Guardian, in which there are three distinct characters, each with their own narrative, two of which are told from first person, and the third from third, person. I chose to tell the story in that fashion in order to create a very strong sense of time and voice. It’s tricky writing, and not for the faint of heart.

Second person

Second person perspective is a you story and requires a controlled, sure narrative. It can be clumsy and a bit outré if you’re not careful, and perhaps is better suited to short fiction than a novel, simply because it can be a bit demanding for your reader. It’s an arresting point of view. Very effective if handled well. Plain silly if it’s not.

Apparently the American novelist Jay McInerney wrote his acclaimed debut novel Bright Lights, Big City in second person. I haven’t read the novel, much less know the author, so I cannot speak to the efficacy of this point of view in his work. Of course, in the end, it’s just one person’s opinion of a piece of art, and art, as we all know, is subjective.

Still, if you’re going to use second person, be very sure of your story and narrative.

Third person limited

Third person limited is the most common point of view a writer can employ, a he/she/they story. It’s an easy point of view to write, let alone read, and allows for greater creative latitude, and breadth of story, because you can choose to tell the entire story from one character’s third person narrative, or many characters by way of alternating chapters or sections between characters. It is important when writing third person limited to be sure you’re writing from one character’s perspective, and only one, in each section of your story.

Unless….

Third person omniscient

Ewww.

Sorry, was that my out loud voice?

It’s unfair of me to make that statement, because, again, art is subjective. To my taste, third person omniscient is a lazy writer’s fallback. Frank Herbert used it extensively in his epic SF series Dune. Given the huge appeal of the series, my antipathy to the point of view will seem unwarranted. And certainly other genre writers have employed this literary device. There’s nothing really wrong with the point of view. It still employs the he/she/they perspective, but switches between characters within the narrative flow so that in one paragraph the reader is experiencing one character’s actions and thoughts, and further down the page the reader is now experiencing a different character’s actions and thoughts. Omniscient. Just like the definition states.

What I personally don’t like about this POV device is the lack of character depth which occurs. I always feel as though I’m skimming across the surface of the story, being kept at a distance. It leaves me hungry, like only being able to eat the crust of a pie and not the whole thing, filling and all.

But, again, that’s just one person’s opinion.

It’s your story

Whatever point of view you choose, stick to it. Make it your own. In the end it’s your story, and only you can really know how you’re going to tell it, and who is going to be your voice.

If you’re looking for a book on the subject, I do recommend an excellent primer by Orson Scott Card: Characters and Viewpoint.

And most of all, just write.

You can follow me at my website: fiveriverspublishing.com

An essential skill

One of the most powerful and essential skills in your writing arsenal is the ability to develop and write believable characters who step off the page into the minds of your readers. But it would seem it’s also one of the hardest skills to effectively master. Do it well, and you haunt the thoughts of your readers. Do it wrong, and your reader closes the novel, likely never to return either to that novel or any other written by you. Good character development drives plot, action, environment and mood. Good character development is of profound import.

Who is this person?

In my opinion, the only way you can write a believable character is to know that character, and that starts with a detailed character sketch, and that works back to the third installment of this series: Outlining.

While creating a character sketch isn’t necessarily part of creating your outline, in my experience it runs in tandem, because as you’re evolving your story, you’re also discovering more about who your main character, and even subsidiary characters, are. There are no ultimate methods of creating those character sketches. What I’ll present here are some methods I’ve found work for me. Adopt or adapt as suits your needs.

The genesis of all my novels always involves a main character as one of the main ingredients. At first I have just a nebulous understanding of who this person is. As I develop my outline, and write, I come to better understand who this person is, and that’s when I sit down and develop a character outline. It often becomes quite detailed, with extraneous information which will never make it into the novel, but it does inform how I present that character, why they do what they do, how they feel, their raison d’etre, if you will. I list things such as:

• physical description, age and gender
• nationality
• religion or spiritual belief if that is germane to the story
• how they survive, as in how they earn their living, if they’re self-sufficient, or beholden to someone/thing for their existence
• are they in a relationship/s
• what is their place in the society in which they live
• fears, likes, dislikes
• soft and hard skills; i.e. are they adept at communication, negotiation, or inept? Can they nurture, or are better a destruction, apathetic, or narcissistic? Can they code programming? Can they sail a ship? Wield a hammer? A sword? A gun? Can they sew and maintain clothes? Make shoes? Grow a crop? Tell what kind of rock they’re walking over? It’s this part of the character sketch which often becomes the bedrock of how I choose to have the plot unfold through my character’s viewpoint.
• are they well-travelled, or not, and if not do they have an understanding of the world or environment beyond them?

From those essential details develop others which allow me to fully understand who is this person. If I understand them intimately, am able to have an informed conversation with them, then at that point I know my reader will believe that character to be real as well.

How to convey that character to your reader

Too often I’ve read a manuscript in which the opening paragraphs describe how their main character looks and feels. That method, in my view, immediately sets up a cool distance between me and the character, because I’m aware of the writer, not the character and their world. The writer is telling me what’s going on. The character isn’t.

I’ve also, to my dismay, come across too many instances in which the character has been completely eliminated from any environmental description, thereby effectively diminishing the importance of character. It’s character which drives your story, or should be if you want to fully engage your reader.

Allow me to use an example I created in an earlier post about submissions.

In the post I used a well-known clumsy opening statement:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Which I suggested could become:

She stood there shivering, rain sheeting down her face, wondering not for the first time what she was doing out on such a night, in such a storm, with the wind howling like her own thoughts.

Now the weather is part of the character. There’s tension because she’s shivering. Is it from cold? Is it from fear? Perhaps fear because we are then given the clue she’s distressed as indicated by the phrase: howling like her own thoughts.

That’s just one very basic example of good character development, let alone a good opening paragraph.

Or take a look at this example:

She was tall, dressed in green taffeta that rustled against her petticoats and hoop, her long hair pulled into a crown of dark, chestnut curls. There were pearls at her throat. She unfolded her fan and said in a husky voice to the gallant approaching her, “My dance card is full, but I could make an exception for you.”

This is all kinds of wrong, yet we see this sort of writing so often in many period romances which flood the market. It’s consumable, forgettable, and could definitely be better. If this story is being told from this antebellum femme fatale’s point of view, the third person observations are out of character. Certainly the gallant approaching her might observe these physical details, but it is unlikely she would. Better not to describe any of this, allow your reader to fill in the gaps in this case, because the fact she’s tall and speaks in a husky voice are all irrelevant, extraneous points which do nothing to develop her character. Instead, it might be better written thus:

When she saw him approaching, she knew immediately he’d observed the quality of her green taffeta gown, the expanse of its skirts. She’d chosen her attire carefully, knowing she’d have to be the perfect bait tonight. Everything depended on it. And to secure this traitor’s attention, she offered another enticement when she pre-empted any introduction by saying, “My dance card is full, but I could make an exception for you.”

Now the narrative is entirely in her head, a very tight character point of view, which develops clearly and with interest who and what she is. I chose to eliminate any description of her hair, because it’s not germane to the action or her point of view. We know she’s involved in some sort of subterfuge or scheme, and that further develops her character because it raises the question: is she a spy, or a Scarlett O’Hara on the hunt for a husband? We know she’s an assertive person, willing to take chances, because she’s just breached etiquette, and we know this without being told. We know this because it’s just part of the action. We haven’t been told by the writer intruding upon the narrative.

Allow me to dissect for you a passage from my novel, From Mountains of Ice. 

The porter at the gate of Portelli’s home, once Sylvio’s, immediately admitted his former employer, bowing, uttering greetings. The man rushed before Sylvio, letting fly commands to servants as he passed to have Sylvio taken to the Sindaco’s study, to have refreshment brought. With as much grace as he could muster Sylvio followed the servant he was handed off to, trying to alleviate the discomfort he knew these people felt on the rare occasion he entered his confiscated, reallocated, ancestral home.

What do we infer from this short passage? We are told Sylvio enters Portelli’s home, which was once Sylvio’s. We are shown how the porter reacts in a fashion of deference to Sylvio. And we are given a revelation into Sylvio’s character in the fact he’s mustering grace, feeling uncomfortable with the attention and respect he’s being shown. That may indicate a humble person, someone self-effacing, and also someone who takes into consideration the feelings of those around him because of the fact he does attempt to muster grace instead of feeling this attention was his due and therefore the servant beneath his consideration or care.

Be your character

How you convey your character to your reader has to come from your own deep well. You have to know your character so well that you can speak with their voice. Or put another way, be your character. 

That can be difficult and uncomfortable for some writers, because it means you allow yourself to open up and let your own emotions, feelings, and responses flow out into the story. It creates a certain vulnerability at times. But it also allows you to write characters who are true, and real, and believable. So, if you’re writing a tense scene, get inside your character’s head so deeply that you feel your heart skipping. If it’s a tragic scene, allow yourself to cry. If it’s a moment of halcyon, allow yourself to slide into the beatitude of the environment your character is experiencing, and then let those feelings, imaginings, flow out from your mind into the mind of your character, and from there into your scene. There is truth in this process. There is believability. And in doing so you will have built upon the development of a character who will be memorable, someone your reader will want to know, and will think about long after the last page has been read.

You can follow me at my website: fiveriverspublishing.com

Technical issues

I was going to make this entire Writers’ Craft series as vlogs. However, I have a problem with my ISP, in that they have not upgraded the lines in our wee village, and so uploading to YouTube is problematic. The first two videos required an overnight upload, with nothing else eating up broadband. The third one has been a bust, I’m afraid. I’ve tried four times now. The first three attempts resulted in 3% upload after 24 hours. The last attempt stalled at 26%. And I’m out of patience. So, I’m back to the written word, which I suppose is appropriate given I’m supposed to be imparting wisdom on the creation of the written word. Life is full or ironies, say what?

Creating an Outline, or why bother?

I know of a good many writers, be they novice or experienced, who ask that question: Why bother outlining? In my experience, outlining is an essential tool if you’re going to write.

1. Outlining saves time, because the need for extensive revision will be reduced. You’ll know where you’re going with the story, and why, rather than employing the ‘panster’ method of just writing without any idea at all where you’re going with the story.
2. Outlining adds cohesion to plot progression, because you’ve thought out your story ahead of time.
3. Outlining helps you to solidify character development.
4. Outlining allows you to develop literary devices throughout your story by way of foreshadowing, pacing, and when to introduce a character or plot element.
5. Outlining helps to identify any further research you’re going to require.

How to create your outline

I use Word or Excel, depending on the complexity of my plot. Normally I use Word, and lay things out by chapter or section, and often pre- or append character sketches as well as world and environmental details. However, when I wrote The Rose Guardian, the story was a bit more complex, employing three different voices in three different timelines, and because of that I used Excel so I could easily scan and organize, as well as keep the continuity of the overall storyline. That also allowed me to clearly define character sketches which allowed me to use those influences in other sections.

I remember well interviewing Marian Fowler, a great Canadian biographer (Blenheim, Below the Peacock Fan, In a Gilded Cage) who was a stickler for accurate research. She used 3×5 cards to outline her biographies and research, and then pinned the cards to a board, or laid them out on a table in her office. I did often wonder what she did if a strong breeze blew through the window. But it was a system which stood her in good stead for many decades.

Other writers I know have written points out by hand on sheets of paper, and then organized those sheets in binders of folders. Others yet have used sticky notes on a wall near their computer. Some have even gone to the trouble of creating visual sketches, working out an actual storyboard.

Just find a system that works for you and use it. You’ll be grateful you did when it comes time to do your revision.

An Outline is a guide, not a monument

It’s important to remember, as you write, your outline is a guide, not a rigid format to which you must adhere. Things occur to you as you’re writing, new ideas, change in plot, change in character, and that’s the way it should be. Just make note of that in your outline and adjust accordingly. I think of an outline as a recipe, if I may be allowed to use a cooking analogy. It often occurs I don’t have all the ingredients for the recipe, which means I liberally substitute. So, I may have started out to make a lasagna, but found I had neither tomatoes nor ground meat, but I did have cream, an abundance of cheese, greens and mushrooms. I still made a lasagna. It was just flavoured differently.

Same with writing and an outline. But it’s important to have at least that basic structure of an outline in place, otherwise you may end up making salad instead of lasagna.

You can follow me at my website: fiveriverspublishing.com