Blog #5: Melissa Davis

In most of my stories, I tend to write in third person, usually omniscient. For whatever reason, using personal pronouns seems odd when I write. When I read Olive Kitteridge, I was amazed at Strout’s ability to seamlessly move from perspective to perspective. She is able to take the reader through Olive’s life and those people who come and go without the reader stumbling. It never seems cumbersome or unwieldy.

I took a continuing education class online two summers ago and the teacher asked us to re-write our story using a different point of view. I found it very difficult and awkward. I felt it didn’t seem like I was staying true to the story or the main character. I have to admit that the story was good, but it has never fit correctly in my head.

In my Young Adult book about ghost hunting, I am using a third person point of view. I am also experimenting with changing perspectives since there are five main characters. I have tried changing perspectives with each new chapter and within the chapter. I have yet to find what works best, so I continue to plug away at it.

In the short story, “She Found Herself” I am using the main character, Enid, as my narrator and telling the story from her perspective. I am using a third person limited voice that allows the reader to see inside her thoughts and feelings but not anyone else’s. Since this is a mystery of sorts, it only seems right that only insight the reader gets is the main character.
I liked that Sarah included some of her story, so I did the same. This is the first paragraph of the “She Found Herself”, a retelling of the Cupid and Psyche story with a Welsh twist.

She found herself standing in the middle of a large grassy area. On her left were thick woods. On her right was a large garden maze gone wild. Everything was winter-laden and stripped bare. There were no leaves to block her view or her fears. She slowly whirled around and realized she was dressed in a long cloak of dark brown wool, and her dress was of a lighter brown silk. The wind softly caressed her and she breathed in the cold air. She heard a hawk call for it’s mate, small animals scurrying in the nearby woods, and the rustle of the silk as she moved. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She stared hard at the woods, but saw nothing, and so she forgot it.