I usually use third person limited point of view
in my novels—at least I thought I did. In Love
of a Stonemason, for instance, I tell the story through the mind and the
eyes of Karla, the main heroine.
In An
Uncommon Family, book two of the Family Portrait series, it gets more
complicated. Here, there are three points of view, Anna, Jonas, and little
Karla. Again, I thought I used third person limited POV. One reviewer, however,
a student of literature, described it as “third person omniscient narrator.” I
was startled and couldn’t understand why she called it “omniscient.”
In Emilia, part three of series, there are four different
POVs. I asked Linda Cassidy Lewis, author of one of my favorite novels, The Brevity of Roses, if she would consider
being a beta reader of my manuscript, since I admire her command of and feeling
for language. And I’m glad I did. She gave me a lot of feedback and a few of her
remarks had to do with narrative voice or point of view.
One thing she mentioned was the fact that the
different POV characters weren’t distinct enough. She said—and I agree with her—that
a reader should be able to recognize who the narrator is, even in the more
descriptive parts, in other words those parts of text where the characters are
not engaged in dialog but where they notice something and in those places the
description should reflect the character’s way of thinking, use of language,
etc. and not the author’s.
For example: in my novel, Andreas, the father,
is someone who hates dressing up, has no interest in fashion or clothes. So
when his son, Tonio, who loves fashion and studies to become a fashion
designer, walks in the door, Andreas notices his somewhat outlandish outfit. He
describes his son’s clothes, using expressions that only a person interested in
and familiar with fashion would use. That of course would be unnatural and unrealistic.
He would certainly notice Tonio’s colorful
outfit but would describe it in layman’s terms.
It made me aware how easy it is to slip into the
more “omniscient” voice, telling the story from the point of view of the author
rather than from one of the character’s POVs. Of course, there is nothing wrong
with omniscient narration and there are places where this is done consciously
by the author. But that’s not what I was trying to do. In fact, I didn’t realize
I was doing it.
Keeping my beta reader’s remarks in mind, I
began to reread my manuscript and I did so aloud. And boy, that sure made a
difference. It was much easier for me to slip into the POV character’s mind and
notice the places where the author intruded too much. I was also able to cut
out a bunch of unnecessary “filler words,” for instance—here Laura, the
daughter, is the POV: “Laura felt her family was in serious trouble.” We don’t
really need “felt” since it’s obvious who does the feeling here. Why not
simply: “Her family was in serious trouble?”
Thank you, Linda; you helped me make my book a better one. I am a little hoarse now from reading out loud, but it was worth it!
Thank you, Linda; you helped me make my book a better one. I am a little hoarse now from reading out loud, but it was worth it!
POV is always tricky. I write for children so I have to make sure the thoughts, actions and words are from a 12 year old's POV. This is not always easy. Reading out loud does help.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Darlene, for dropping by! Yes, particularly children make for challenging POVs. I have two young girls in my novel, An Uncommon Family, and while I tried to keep their age in mind, I do get an occasional criticism that they come across as a little too old.
ReplyDeleteChrista