Blog #5 Dina's Point-of-View

Point-of-view seems like it should be the first (and easiest) decision to make. When I first begin a story, I almost always write in first person. I think I start this way because I put myself in the character's shoes and write as if I'm the main character. Inevitably, as I begin to rewrite or as I get further into the story, I switch to third person because first person is too limiting.

I love first person, though. The story always moves more quickly; I think because the action is more immediate. Unfortunately, I don't think my writing is as good in first person. I tend to be more casual and less descriptive. Third person makes me a better writer and makes the story more expansive. It's easier to paint a complete picture in third than in first.

When I'm writing, though, I tend to forget myself and slip into first. I get caught up in the action and start writing as if I'm in the story. I go back through and put it back in third which gives me a chance to do some quick editing as I go and to make sure I didn't get off track. It seems to work for me.

In one of the books I'm working on, I'm using third person limited, alternating the voices of three characters in different chapters: the female protagonist, the male protagonist, and one of the antagonists. I may switch to omniscient rather than stick to these strict and maybe too organized perspectives, but I haven't decided yet. At this point, each chapter alternates - female protagonist, male protagonist, antagonist, then starts all over again, moving the plot along.

Here are a few paragraphs from this novel, Finder's Keepers. This is the second chapter, but the first chapter in the voice of the male protagonist.

The man held in a groan as he gained consciousness, pain radiating through his body and causing him to hold very still. He felt the need to be quiet although he wasn't sure why. The pain didn't feel new, but the warmth and the softness surrounding him did. He opened his eyes cautiously, slowly turning his head. One eye felt swollen and his view through that one was blurry, but he could see well enough to take in his surroundings.

There was a large, stone fireplace that gave the room a soft glow. The glow revealed the high ceilings with wooden beams, the large furniture, the small woman curled into a ball in a chair, and the tiny dog that made him wince when it landed enthusiastically on his chest. He didn't recognize any of it. He moved his arms carefully and, when none of the pain intensified, he moved the furball to the floor, and sat up in jerky starts and stops.

The discomfort made him wish he could stay flat on his back, but he really had to piss and he really wanted to glass of water on the coffee table. He had no idea where to go for the first so he gulped down the water before trying to stand. He didn't make it upright but, by moving in a hunched position and holding on to furniture and walls on the way, he was able to follow a short hallway and find a bathroom.

With his bladder drained, he realized he was done and simply lay down on the fluffy bath rug and closed his eyes.