Writing Lessons
WRITING LESSON 08:
POINT OF VIEW IN FICTION?
MOST PEOPLE KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT POINT OF VIEW IN FICTION. THEY:
* USE THE FIRST PERSON "I" POINT OF VIEW OFTEN
* RECOGNIZE THIRD PERSON "SHE/HE" POINT OF VIEW FROM READING FICTION
* BUT THEY'RE NOT SURE OF ALL THE POINTS OF VIEWS
Again, don't let those reasons stop you. Everyone starts somewhere and the fact is you have lived and gain information, reasons, opinions about a wide variety of point of views from your fiction reading. The rules for point of view are best understood seeing them in action.
BASIC POINT OF VIEW (POV) RULES:
* DIRECT OBSERVATION OR CAMERA/THEATRICAL OR FLY ON THE WAL
This point of view is only what a camera would record and see. You cannot go subjective aka inside a character's mind.
THE GREEN-HAIRED LADY
“Umm, Miss. Hi I noticed as you walked by . . . uhm your leprechaun green hair—“It’s real. It’s my hair.”
“Can I touch it?”
Silence
“Yeah, but only the far ends down the middle of my back.”
“You trust me?”
“You look decent. Nice gray polo shirt, black trousers, expensive leather loafers.”
“You like my loafers.”
“Yeah—They're cute. Comfortable?”
“Very. Your hair . . . nice. I thi—“
“It’s not dyed.”
“Sophisticated hair coloring technology these—“
“Look buddy, you want to know my big scandalous secret!”
“No. I like this fantasy. Your tight white blouse, black mini dress, those sling back dress shoes--works for me.”
“Yeah?”
“In fact, I’ll tell you my big secret. I said this Monday. I’d propose to the first gorgeous girl with leprechaun green I see this week.”
“That is some secret, but—“
“And here you are.”
“Awww. Hmm . . .I’m really green haired . . . just wasn’t born on earth.”
“You’re an alien . . . I could marry an alien.”
“I’m an angel.”
“I don’t believe you . . . Hey! Hey! Where did my leprechaun fantasy woman go?”
--THE END--
* THIRD PERSON OMNISCIENT (SUBJECTIVE & OBJECTIVE)
Third Person is the "he said, she said" reference to the characters. Omniscient mean be everywhere. Subjective means in the person mind. Objective means can be in any place, inside a vase, in the room, in the house, in the city, in the country. This is known as the Goddess or God point of view.
So you could have two more examples:
THIRD PERSON OMNISCIENT LIMITED (SUBJECTIVE)
THIRD PERSON OMNISCIENT LIMITED (OBJECTIVE)
THE GREEN HAIRED LADY
Eric promised he’d marry the first scantly clad hottie he met—if she had leprechaun green hair. It wasn’t Irish Day, Saint Patrick Day, Halloween or Mardi Gras. None of the holidays were near either. It was a promise to assuage his guilt about breaking ladies hearts. They all wanted commitment. He promised to give a girl one.
Eric figured he’d complete his little black book this year, the final ten pages, because the odds were in his favor. He’d never meet a girl with leprechaun colored hair. Fifty pages were filled with seven digit locations and descriptions of girls from 17-38. At 29 he glorified his many shallow love and sexual encounters.
Eric dressed in black leather loafers, black dress pants, gray polo shirt.
The Goddesses in Heaven decided to teach Pygmalion Eric a lesson in love. They’d give him a swift kick in the loins and heart. They’d get him started down the road of love, marriage, and family—and to stop breaking female’s commitment fantasies.
“Another day, another dollar to be acquired, rolled away in my Money Market Funds. He stopped by his full-length mirror by the door. “Dang. You look marvelous—Eric my man. You—heartbreaker you.” Eric pinched his own cheek. “Oh. I better get going.”
Eric caught a taxi, exited on Pine Street’s business complex already sprouting humans by the tens and twenties. They were literally crawling out of the subway grounds.
He walked along the shops past subway restaurant, jewelers, fashion apparel shops, expense eateries when his surprised jaw woke up his senses. “Marilyn Monroe was an eight compared to this beauty,” he said under his breath.
The woman felt a tingle in her inner spaces when Eric hit her hormonal sonar screen. “What a dazzling Adonis,” she whispered to herself.
The two approached each with all the coyness humans display when they’ve already fallen madly in lust or love for one another.
“Uhm, Miss. Is that really your hair color—“
“Leprechaun Green? Yes. I’m a all natural girl.”
“Can I touch it?”
Silence. She evaluated Eric. Glanced at his neat appearance. “Sure, okay.” She smiled and combed her hair for Eric with her fingers. “Touch the ends down the middle of my back—no more.”
Eric drew closer and smelled her Chloe #8 perfume. He ignored the colorful breeze on the conscious level. Unconsciously, the perfume worked to make her unforgettable. His fingers touched her hair. “Soft, thick.”
“Home grown, every strand. Been this long since I was 13.”
Eric tilted his head this way, left and right, checking her hair all over. “Ahhh, the hair color technology today.”
The green haired lady got angry. “Look Buddy, you want to know my big scandalous secret!”
“No. Uhm. I’m enjoying this fantasy. My name is Eric,” he reached out his strong hand. He played racket ball every Wednesday.
Danielle softened a bit. Shook his hand, “My name is Danielle.” Danielle adored the confident manner and his strong grip. She checked out his body while he was too busy checking out hers. He works out twice a week, she surmised.
“Lovely green hair, blouse white and black mini skirt. Dancing shoes. Scanty dressed for the morning?”
“I’m a model.”
“Modeling too easy for you, Danielle. ‘I'll tell you my big secret. I have this little black book.”
Danielle held out her open manicured hand, “Proof.”
“Aggressive. Mmmm. I like that in a chick.” He handed her the book. A glint of supreme satisfaction in his eyes. “I’m willing to throw this away. Because I’m a man of my word. I promised early this week to marry the first beautiful girl I met with leprechaun hair.”
“Romantic. That is a secret, Eric.” She glanced through the pages at an leisure pace.
“And here you are, Danielle.”
Danielle knew she had accomplished her mission the Goddesses sent her own. To trap and shake up this 21st Century Narcissus. He'd think more respectfully about women. She had planted a seed, maybe he should settle down marry and have a few children.
“Aww Eric,” she said. She handed back his little black book. “Even though my hair is real. I’m not.”
“Okay,” Eric smiled and winked. “You’re an alien. From another planet or another country. I don’t care. I love you. Marry me!”
Danielle held up both hands, “Whoa. Wait. I’m an angel.” Danielle could see the Goddesses in the clouds cheering her on, telling her she had accomplished her mission and to come home.
Eric looked up to the Heavens in disbelief, “Ohhh. Like an Angel from Heaven.”
“Yep.”
“Prove it. I’m a rational man.”
Danielle disappeared on the spot, leaving her white blouse as a reminder with its faint whiff of Chloe #8.
“Danielle. Danielle!”
People gazed. He stood there alone. Eric picked up the white blouse, cradled the blouse to his nostrils smelling the Chloe #8, tucked the blouse into his brief case and went to work determined to settle down before the year’s end.
--THE END--
* THIRD PERSON LIMITED (SUBJECTIVE AND OBJECTIVE)
This point of view uses the "he said, she said" but it is not everywhere subjectively or objectively. In other words this is the point of view of most romance novels. You can be with the character but only one. You can be subjective and objective but you cannot be any place the character is not present. If your romance heroine is shopping at Saks, you cannot tell us anything about the hero playing cards in Phoenix, Arizona at the Big Win Casino.
So you could have a THIRD PERSON LIMITED (OBJECTIVE) view staying out of your heroine's thought and internal feelings.
* FIRST PERSON LIMITED
This point of view I'm sure you'll recognize. It's from the view point or frame of reference of the main character. Limited means you've decided to tell it from their point of view, but perhaps not from inside his mind (subjective) but you tell everything from what he sees, hears, smells, tastes and touch (objective).
So there could be two more:
FIRST PERSON LIMITED (SUBJECTIVE)
FIRST PERSON LIMITED (OBJECTIVE)
THE GREEN HAIRED LADY
I’m just too handsome. Don’t I look great! I even pinched my own cheeks for effect. Well, my little black book is almost filled, 20 more pages is all. Of course, if I was to meet a gorgeous babe with Leprechaun green hair, I’d throw it into the Potomac.
I left for work, caught a taxi knowing Mardi Gras, Irish Day, Saint Patrick Day and Halloween were months away. I’d never meet this green haired Venus. I think I must be feeling guilty about all these girl’s hearts I’ve disappointed.
Ahhh, girls can be so boring sometimes. They either have the looks or not the brains; the brains and not the looks; or only enough brains and looks to be completely boring chicks. Ha Ha.
I guess a guy like myself can’t win them all, but who cares. Life is about love and lust, adventure and actions. I got out of the taxi on Pine Street’s business complex. Not the usual time to hunt for girls, but that’s why my black beanie (book) is nearly filled to the covers with classy and rich babes. No dance clubs or grocery stores or museums girl shopping for the OL loverboy.
I was pausing considering buying another pair of dress shoes when shock hit my eyes. The shock registered at least seven on the Richter Scale. My dream green-haired babe—Leprechaun green hair no less was straight ahead. Her blouse tight as a wet suit. Her nipples pointed and forming a tight-walk line, peak to peak, across her chest inside her white blouse. The mini dress split up the side showed more of her pink-tanned legs and pretty feet clad in sling back dress shoes.
As I zeroed in, formulating an approach, my loins longed to explore her many secret places. I felt myself becoming harder for her in both lower and upper body. She neared me. I acted coy. Confident. I’d let her come to me. The girls always do.
She came closer, by me and her gray eyes met mind for an instance. Her eyes . . . reminded me . . . wolves mated for life. I smelled her Chloe #8 scent. I don’t know why I thought about wolves. I smiled. She smiled.
Dang! She passed right by. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. I could not loose this moment. Oh my, leprechaun hair draped down the middle of her back! “Uhmmm, Miss.” I couldn’t let my fantasy girl slip away.
“Yes?”
“I noticed your green hair.”
“It’s Leprechaun green hair. All real.”
Can’t be real, I thought. She’s adventurous, playful. “Can I touch it?”
Silence.
“Yeah . . . the far ends reaching the middle of my back, that is all.”
Good, she trusts me. Probably knows Kung Fu or her father is the local Police Chief—whatever! She’s made for sex and love. Wow!
“Your gray Polo shirt, dress black trousers says your probably okay. Decent enough. My woman’s intuition is not blaring alarms. Nice loafers by the way.”
Yeah! I thought, expensive good-looking shoes work all the time. Move in for the kill, “You like my loafers?”
“Yeah. They’re cute. Look comfortable.”
“Very.” I touched her hair. Pure silk. My major hair fetish was kicking in but the instant I touched those tresses of hair—“Soft. Silky.” I fell into Romeo love for her. I would say it was a mix of three-quarters love and one quarter lust. The perfect combination.
“It is not dyed.”
Not dyed. What does she mean? “Ahhh. The sophisticated hair coloring technology these—“
“Look, Buddy, you want to know my big scandalous secret!”
She stepped back and I could touch her hair no longer. I looked left and right, examining the roots of her hair. Seemed real enough. More than that I noticed I felt I’d lost something. I had to quickly regain her trust. I’d lay my cards on the line. Risk it all. First flash your big white teeth smile, Eric, I counseled myself.
“In fact,” and I smiled for her, “Uhm?”
Danielle is silent, hands on her hips.
“Danielle, I’ll tell you my own big secret. This Monday I promised to propose to the first Internet beauty queen I saw walking.”
Danielle smiled, her mouth small, her teeth white as my own.
She then combed her special green hair with her fingers, preening especially for me. I read the mating cues right. She liked me again.
“That’s some secret Eric but—“
“And Danielle,” and I made a slow movement to touch her hand, “here you are.”
“That’s so 21st Century Eric. My hair,” Danielle paused for effect, “but I’m not born on this earth.”
I cannot tell you all the sci-fi scenarios I clicked through my mind. Fate. I meet the girl of my dreams and she’s an alien. She’s some type of seductive alien abduction chick. I calmed myself. I’m a philosophical man. “You’re an alien? . . . I could marry an alien.” What a stupid comment. I hoped she laugh. She held a slight smile. I couldn’t interpret the meaning. I should laugh at myself. Duh! Alien. I could marry one!
“Whoa! Eric, I’m an angel.” She held up both hands and glanced upward.
All I could see was her long rich pink love lines flowing through her palms. “Ohhh.” This is not happening. My one chance to soul mate. “You mean like Touched By An Angel—the television show.”
“Yep. I’m real though.”
I laughed. “Prove it.”
She disappeared right on the spot. What a jerk I was. I didn’t even ask her why she was here like they do on television. “Hey, Hey, Danielle!”
She was gone. Her Chloe #8 scent vanished. Her gray eyes started to become memories on my inverted inner eye lenses. Her white blouse with the faint perfume scent, the only remnant.
I resolved, before the year ended, to pick one of the real beauties from my earthly black beanie. I resolved to apologize to her for being a jerkister. I resolve ask her to marry me. I’m a man of my word so I know I’ll do it.
--THE END—
* FIRST PERSON LIMITED MULTIPLE (2+) PEOPLE
This point of view is the same as above except it uses two or more people to tell the story through. You don't want to switch points of view in the same paragraph! Use "***" or different chapters when you switch points of views.
So you could have a:
FIRST PERSON OMNISCIENT MULTIPLE (2+) PEOPLE
THE GREEN HAIRED LADY
HER
‘Why do I have to go to earth and wear these slutty clothes?” I asked my superior Goddesses, Chrissy and Venus.
“Danielle. Because without men and women mating how can the humans go on?”
“What happened to the bow and arrow method?”
“We’ve tried that. Eric always balks at the final commitment stage. No girl is magnetic enough to pull him over that Maginot line around his heart. A personal Goddess will do. Besides, Danielle, you need the training and will get much credit and more power by doing this.”
“Well, yeppers. I guess what’s really bugging me is why I have to say I’m an angel?”
“Simple. Eric is a Christian, he doesn’t believe in Goddesses. He thinks their evil at best.”
“Oh, all right.”
***************
HIM
“Aww. Another day, another dollar and another opportunity to fill a line in my little black book,” I said to myself standing before the mirror before work. I am not really conceited. Just confident. I’m a man of my word. If I meet my Leprechaun haired beauty babe, before the end of this week, I’d marry her. With that decided, I caught a taxi to work. It was Wednesday.
HER
Oh here comes narcissistic lover boy now. Guess I’d better change into my earthly garb. One black mini dress, white poet’s blouse and sling back sandal dress shoes coming up. “Hmmm,” I said to myself. I need a scent. Ok.
HIM
Lots of ladies out today, but I’m very particular. Wait a minute. Look ye at her. The lady ten feet down the way, approaching at 12 O’clock. Green hair! Hot bod. Seductive smile! Boobies with exclamation points line across her white poet’s blouse.
HER
Here comes loverboy. I’d better walk straight, thrust out my chest a little more, look happy. He’s coming closer. I’ll call up a small breeze to blow my scent to him before he’s within chatting distance. I’m a Goddess after all. I might as well use my powers.
HIM
I know that’s her scent. Chloe #8. Has to be. My lover’s instinct is kicking in early. She’s smiling, closer, within chatting range, walking . . . by . . . dang! “Hey Miss. Uhm. Is that your real hair color?
HER
What am I stupid? Of course it isn’t. What girl but a real alien has green hair or wants it forever. Oh, I guess he’s being sociable. These guys do have to make the first move all the time down here. Glad girls are not restricted to this in the Heavenly planes. Ahh. Better to play the mating game. Smile Danielle, you will receive your reward when this is over. “It’s real. It’s my hair color.”
Actually this wasn’t a lie. Because my hair is real Leprechaun green for this briefly earth incarnation.
HIM
“Can I touch it?”
Silence
Oops. My first mistake. But a guy has to take some risk to breech the personal space barrier or else a girl will brush him off. Wait. I see a slow smile coming over her face. OK.
“Yeah, but only the far ends down the middle of my back.”
Hmmm. Odd request. But I’ll take it. Her hair is shiny, clean. I mustn’t drool. Stay calm, Eric. “You trust me?”
“You look decent enough, dressed in nice gray Polo shirt, black dress pants. Nice killer loafers, leather?”
She likes my shoes. The shoes work all the time.
HER
Can he touch it? I thought, what a fetish creep. Oh well, He is handsome. And I am beautiful. I have to pause to make it seem like I’m considering his manly qualities, whether he trusts worthy? Is he true mating material? Can he provide for our children? Everyone gets tested. He’d expect me not to give in right away. Ewwwww. I’m become all earthly girl-coyish. Whatever gets the job done. “Yeah, but only the far ends down my back.”
He likes that. I’ll turn a bit, and arch my back, subtle like, so he can see more of my delicious flat tush under my tight mini skirt. He won’t notice except on the subconscious level anyway. Men are such unconscious dogs down here. Hard to believe I even graduated from this rock nearly 5,000 years ago.
“You trust me?”
Actually trust is a mute point buddy. I could turn you into a frog or an gangly and ugly human if you do anything I don’t like. Smile, Danielle I remind myself. Play the girl game. “You look decent, clean pressed clothes, I don’t know many people who iron their polo shirts. And nice black leather loafers.”
“You like my loafers?”
“Yeah—They’re cute. Comfortable?” Yuck. What am I saying. Shoes are shoes. Now the bulge in his pants—that’s got my eye. Down here a girl can’t mention or even be direct in looking. I’ll wait to when he’s checking out my body to ogle his body. Glad the Goddesses in Heaven get to ogle all they want. All these restrictions on women and they wonder why the races don’t procreate!
Of course the story goes on from HIM to HER to HIM to HER to the end.--THE END--
I'm sure you recognize these points of views, now that I've pointed them out and given them a title. These are basically all the points of views. Of course, some people have assigned different names to the same points of view so don't be confused.
SO GO START USING DIFFERENT POVs IN YOUR STORIES!
This page was last updated: August 31, 2009
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