Blog # 5: Jess Yaun: Ready for Third Person Omniscient?

My stories often begin in the first person. A story idea wiggles around in my head for awhile and when I sit down to write, “I” usually comes out first. By the second or third page of scribbled first draft I’ll know whether first person is working or not. I think beginning in first person allows me to get inside my protagonist’s head and know them intimately. However, before starting the MAPW program, I didn’t think too much about point of view. In fact, in one of the first stories I turned in, my classmates pointed out I had switched point of view at the end of the story. It was only two lines, but when I looked closely, I had indeed slipped from the main character’s head and into another’s.

Once I focused on point of view in a way I never had, I realized I could create distance between myself and my protagonist and steer away from creating a main character that was too much like me, by writing in third person. I also enjoyed discovering for another story that writing in first person made the action and emotion immediate and gripping.

I prefer third person limited only because I’ve never really tried third person omniscient. The power and scope of that point of view still scares me. My novel started in first person like most of my stories do, but long before I revised and submitted my first section to my fiction class I had switched to third person limited. My protagonist, Rebecca, is dreadfully alone for the first few chapters and first person felt claustrophobic – both to write and to read. But now that I’m about halfway through the story, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s time to experiment with third person omniscient. No longer alone, Rebecca finds herself thrust back in time to the days of the Cherokees, and she is surrounded by a large clan that claims her as family. Yet suspicion grows among the tribe about who she is and why she is among them, and although I haven’t written those parts yet, I may need the freedom of showing what the people around her are thinking and feeling. I liked third person limited because I wanted my reader to go on the journey with her, to experience her revelations along with her, much as the reader does with Strout’s Olive Kitteridge, but I fear her limited perspective might suffocate the conflicts and twists that could emerge with a broader telling of Rebecca’s story.

Blog Post # 5: Ray Atkins Hears Voices

The most common narrative voice I employ in my long fiction is third-person, limited omniscient. In this narrative construction, the unnamed narrator knows a great deal about the characters in the story but does not know everything about them. This structure allows the narrator to speculate about the characters’ actions and motivations, and to occasionally comment upon the story directly to the reader. It is through this device that the narrator actually becomes a character in his own right.

I say his, incidentally, because the narrator strikes me as being a male in his mid-fifties, someone with a beard, perhaps, and with an irreverent sense of humor. In my mind’s eye he looks a lot like that guy right down there. Examples of some of the narrator’s asides to the reader can be seen in the following paragraph, which is excerpted from The Front Porch Prophet.

A thousand souls reside in the town of Sequoyah, Georgia, sixty miles southwest of Chattanooga. Located in a mountain valley surrounded by peaks, Sequoyah does not differ significantly from countless other small communities dotting the Southern landscape. It has a store and a gas station, a diner and four churches. It boasts a school, a post office, a traffic light, and a town hall. There is a doctor, a lawyer, and an Indian chief—or at least, that is what he claims. Over the years, however, the settlement has developed a character unique to itself. The whole has exceeded the sum of the parts. The individuals who resided there have left traces, pieces of the patchworks of their lives. A child's name. A house. The lay of a fencerow. A snowball bush. This is the way of towns and of those who people them. These are the relics of security, for it is not human nature to live alone.

Although third-person, limited omniscient is the point of view I most commonly employ, there are times when that voice is not fully up to the task of informing the reader. In those instances, I employ other narrative techniques as needed. For instance, in The Front Porch Prophet, each chapter begins with an excerpt from a series of letters from beyond the grave that were written by one of the main characters while he was still alive. These serve to show a side of the character that the narrator didn’t know. In my second book, Sorrow Wood, each chapter contains a reminiscence of one of the main character’s many past lives. Again, this was information that was useful to the reader that the limited omniscient narrator did not have.

Another example of a departure from the normal narrative is the prologue of my third book, Camp Redemption, which relies upon a fully-omniscient narrator to present a geographical and historical overview of the book’s setting. And finally, in the book I am working on now, Sweetwater Blues, each chapter begins with a first-person journal entry written by the main character that provides additional information that the narrator does not have. In all of these examples, the point is to present an interesting story, keep the reader’s attention, and don’t make the reader have to work too hard. This last point is critical, because these days, a large number of readers won’t. They’ll put the book down and move on.

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.

Blog #5 Heather Cook

Typically, I write a third person limited narrator in my stories. I think I’ve chosen this point of view because in all the books I’ve read, I find this voice the least annoying. For some reason, I find first person to sound too juvenile. This may be because a large number of the chapter books I read as a child were written from the main character’s point of view. And so I now associate the first person with juvenile sounding characters. In my current project, I’m writing with a third person omniscient narrator, which is quite different for me. I’m finding this voice to be a little more difficult because I’m having a harder time getting to know and fully develop each character. Because of this, I’m having to spend more time discovering each character so that the audience will easily see them as I do in my head.

In my current project, the audience knows the thoughts of one main character, Byrn. Byrn is actually a fictional re-creation of my fiancé—he has brown skin, dark hair, defined muscles, and a whole lot of personality. The entire story remains in Byrn’s point of view. The audience knows his thoughts, which characters he likes and doesn’t like (which is intended to directly impact the audience’s opinions of the other characters), what time of day he wakes up, and what type of fictional food he enjoys for dinner. And despite the potential ease of the story being in first person, I still chose third person. I can attribute this partly to Stephenie Meyer. I’ll admit that I’ve read the Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer, and although I enjoyed the plot, I couldn’t stand that it was in first person. I lost respect for Bella at times because she was too whiny, too pathetic, and not enough of a loveable main character for me. Thus, I wrote my story in third person.

Although the readers stay within Byrn’s head, the audience also goes on adventures without Byrn. Even though I haven’t penned these chapters yet, I plan to write side stories that involve other characters that weren’t as developed as the others.

Blog#5 Samara: Point of View

Inevitably when I write I immediately write in first person. I feel like when I write I need to be in a particular characters head. This has seemed to help in in the past, but for my current work, I have actually moved away from this.

In my story Black and Blue (working title, don't love it). My main characters are a policewoman (Lexi) and her psychatrist (Jacob) and I am often flipping back and forth between the two to see what is going on in their lives. Some of the things they do actually parallel each other. For example, on the morning they first meet each other they both have spent the night sleeping on their own couches. I wanted the freedom to know what was going on with all of my characters and not just Lexi, which is why I chose third person omniscient. I think it is working well for me in this particular story, but as an author I am usually more comfortable in first person.

In Advanced Fiction last semester, I was able to see and hear other people's writing that benefited from a change in point of view, and saw how it really is important to make sure you think about this as a writer for the story you are trying to tell, not just because as the author you are more comfortable in that point of view. I realized I need to be true to my story, even if the point of view isn't necessarily comfortable to me as the author.

Blog 5 Danielle Swanson

Point of view seems like it should be one of the easiest things to decide. After all, there are only so many choices: first person, third person limited, and third person omniscient are the major ones that come to mind. Compared with the limitless number of character names, settings, plots, and various other elements of fiction, point of view is the multiple choice quiz and the rest are essays or fill-in the blanks.

But easy as it should be to decide, in my own writing, I have found that I frequently want to switch the view. When writing about my grandmother for my creative nonfiction class, I started out in first person, telling the story from her eyes, but I quickly realized I had to pull back. I tried first person from my eyes, but at times that was still to close and I would slip into third person. When something hurts, I pull away, step out of first person and into the third.

In my current novel, I started out writing from the third person, but I found that this did not allow me into the thoughts of my main character, something I needed for the story to survive. The reader has to be able to understand what is going on in Jessie's head to understand why she takes some of actions she does. Chick lit is often written in first person; as I write my own story, I can see how a genre so related to personal relationships often needs the writing to be inside the character's heads to make sense.

Blog #5- Kristi DeMeester

When it comes to point of view, I feel constantly torn. Whenever I sit down to begin a story or the chapter of a novel, I find that I'm the unfaithful mate. I start by thinking, "Yes. I definitely want this story in first person," but I quickly begin to doubt myself, "Well, would it be better with a third person omniscient? Or maybe I should offer the point of view of several characters?" My problem with point of view, is that I can never seem to make up my mind, and oh boy, I cheat unabashedly.

With what I'm currently working on, however, I've decided to go with the first person, and I'm toying with the idea of bringing in the main character's mother's point of view as well (I hope I got all those possessives correct!). I may go back and rewrite some of the more pivotal sections from the perspective of an omniscient narrator, but I'll have to wait to make a decision on it until then. If I obsess too much about it now, I may never get back to it.

The reason I decided on first person though was because the nature of the story told me to do it. Only Lola could tell the story of her feelings towards her mother and her mother's suicide, and only Lola could tell the story of her ultimate decision. Lola's mother though, I feel, has just as a powerful story to tell, and I have to admit, it's going to be immense fun writing as a selfish ghost. Even if I scrap the whole section, I plan to write in her mother's point of view a couple of times even if it is just a jump start to get me going or lead me towards something revealing about her character.

The other novel I've been working on is in first person as well, and I prefer the story in first person, but I'm wanting to go back in and strengthen her voice; it was starting to fall flat in several areas.

A short story I've recently finished is told in the third person limited, and I spent some time on that story in the first person before deciding that it needed to be in third person.

What I appreciated about Olive Kitteridge was Strout's ability to change perspectives from story to story while still remaining faithful to the personalities of her characters and using her words to craft characters that are strikingly real. I'd never though attempting to weave together such perspectives with a constant motif, but it is certainly something I would like to try.

Here is the opening (I'M SHOUTING HERE! FIRST DRAFT ALERT!! FIRST DRAFT ALERT!!)to the novel, titled Paper Heart, I'm working on now, which is currently in first person...but....

Prologue:
The history of my family can be traced in the scars that cover the insides of my wrists. They are jagged and broken from multiple attempts at finally getting it right, from finally putting everything that shattered back together into some semblance of beauty and order. But the flesh around the scars will never reform, and my mother, my family, will never re-align into what it once was. And the sad thing about that is that what it once was, was nothing more than an elaborately crafted dance between my mother and me. Nothing more than a lie.

Chapter 1
It is Valentines Day and my mother is dead. Her small house is littered with fat, bumbling police officers who violate her dainty household items with their fat paws. One greasy man lifts her thimble from where it rests on her favorite mauve armchair before flipping it back onto the small white side table my mother had placed haphazardly next to her chair. "So I can see the TV while I sew, honey," she protested when I complained that the table was a nuisance, "I need something to occupy my mind." Another officer leans a scrawny, vein-covered arm against the pale blue of her walls. A color she picked for its calming effects, hoping that the iciness in the blue would somehow feed the monsters in her mind and hold them back for a bit longer, just a bit longer.

I want to scream at them. To tell them to pay some respect to her possessions. To tell them to get their fucking pig hands off of my mother’s stuff.

A gaunt officer wraps a ratty grey blanket around my shoulders. He smells like cigarettes and there is a small line of sweat forming on his upper lip. His badge shouts his last name at me accusingly, "WESLOWSKI! WESLOWSKI!" It blames me for my mother’s final act, for her splitting her body open like ripe fruit, the blood spilling from her wrists in dark ribbons.

"Ms. McDowell? I’m going to need to ask you some questions. Do you think you can answer them?"

The officer’s face is tired, and I don’t want to answer any of his questions. I want him to take the other officers and leave me alone to sort out my own questions.

"I’m sorry Officer, Weslowski, is it? Is there any way we could do this some other time?"

"Of course, Ms. McDowell," he pulls a small card from his wallet and offers it to me with the tips of his fingers as if I’m a disease he might catch, "When you’re ready, please call the number at the bottom. That’s my direct line."

I nod at him and wait for him to leave, but he shuffles his feet, "I’m real sorry, Ms. McDowell, but I’m wondering if it would be better if you didn’t stay here tonight. It’s awful late, and you probably shouldn’t be driving. Is there anyone we can call who could take you home?"

"No. There isn’t anyone else." The enormity of my response hits me hard, and I can feel my heart fluttering hard against my ribs. There isn’t anyone else. Mom was my anyone else, and now she’s gone.

"I can give you a lift home, if you need one."

I want to laugh at him and tell him that where I’m sitting is home, but I reply, "Yes, thank you." And I leave my mother’s house for the last time.

The streets of Windham are quiet in the way that Georgia streets can be quiet during the deepness of night, and I try to follow the familiar scenery of my small town as it flashes by the window. Officer Weslowski is smoking and has rolled his window down in my honor, but in the air I can smell the velvet musk of summer and taste the humidity on my tongue. There has always been something about the smell of summer that reminds me of the sickly sweet scent of death, a reminder that in the lush greenery of life, death is an ever-blooming flower.