Deep POV Lesson 8 First Person POV
Jul 5, 2021 10:25:27 GMT -6
Post by ScienceGirl on Jul 5, 2021 10:25:27 GMT -6
This is our final installment in the study of Rivet Your Readers with Deep POV.
First Person POV
Nelson has referenced first person throughout the book and given several examples, but she dedicates her last chapter to add a little extra focus on it. One of the biggest issues with first person POV is that it's built for narration and it's hard to notice when you slip into it.
I've mentioned several times that I want to revise my published novels now that I have the rights back. (And here's a brief aside about the pitfalls of a small publishing company. Though this company had a bit of success, it was started by a woman who wrote terrible novels herself and basically used the success of others to try to piggyback and sell her own fiction. Before she accepted my submission, I paid over $1000 to have three of my books edited. You can tell in this excerpt that my editor had no earthly idea what she was doing. And then, the publishing company had it further edited, and her editor ALSO had no idea what they were doing). I will highlight instances of "telling" and "filtering"
All this telling, still there after three times of editing it out. Two editors, a publisher, all my critique partners, and myself, and we didn't notice five instances of telling in the first paragraph. Now some would argue that this doesn't matter. I've heard a lot of people say, "I don't mind reading telling." But I've also had some negative reviews, like this lovely quote:
And honestly, that probably doesn't matter much either because out of 28 Amazon reviews, I have 24 5-star reviews and no 1's or 2's.
BUT... (AND IT'S A BIG OLD BUT) here's my rewrite:
Let's make some comparisons:
1) Word count: Original (254) Revision (263) That's not such a huge difference, but consider that we're looking at a short excerpt of an 80,000-word novel. For those of you struggling with word count, notice that when you take out the narrator and add more rich action and description, you'll naturally bump up your word count
2) Use of "I/my to reference the POVC": Original: 9 uses in 200 words Revision: 6 uses, and that's even counting two new ones that I added. (Lessens repetition)
3) Understanding the sense of Callie's urgency, the looming danger added to her mom's plight by the storm, and her despair at watching her sister make out with the guy that's supposed to be hers.
4) Getting some insight into relationships. With the deep POV, I've been able to sort of establish Callie as the good-girl younger sibling who gets called out for everything even though her older sister openly does drugs and makes out with her boyfriend on the front porch. One of the biggest issues I've had with this whole novel is people complaining that Callie was unlikeable because she was so bitter all the time. Well, yeah, she's bitter. Her sister is obnoxious. Who wouldn't be bitter in that situation? BUT, readers had no reason to sympathize with her before. Without giving the thoughts, it just makes Callie feel abrupt and hateful and rude. Adding in the thoughts, you see that Callie is more reactionary because she's deeply hurt by the situation. She's hurt that her mom can't trust her, and she's hurt that her sister seems to have no love for her.
Some line by line comparison:
So yes, you can make the argument that it "reads fine" in the original. 24 of my 28 reviewers agree. However, when you come back to that final version of my rewrite, you'll hopefully see that I've done a much better job at establishing intent, developing my characters, creating a tense situation, and leading the reader through the story as the character experiences and sees everything.
In Conclusion
Deep POV is not a required template for writing fiction. Plenty of people have done a fine job writing books in third and first person limited, third person omniscient, etc. and published books that resonate with readers. However, it's a huge market trend these days and something you definitely want to pursue if traditional publishing is your dream. Best of luck as you practice and hone your craft. I hope you'll write some deep POV excerpts and post them in the Fiction Forum, where I'll be glad to offer critique. Good luck! Hope you enjoyed the study!
First Person POV
Nelson has referenced first person throughout the book and given several examples, but she dedicates her last chapter to add a little extra focus on it. One of the biggest issues with first person POV is that it's built for narration and it's hard to notice when you slip into it.
I've mentioned several times that I want to revise my published novels now that I have the rights back. (And here's a brief aside about the pitfalls of a small publishing company. Though this company had a bit of success, it was started by a woman who wrote terrible novels herself and basically used the success of others to try to piggyback and sell her own fiction. Before she accepted my submission, I paid over $1000 to have three of my books edited. You can tell in this excerpt that my editor had no earthly idea what she was doing. And then, the publishing company had it further edited, and her editor ALSO had no idea what they were doing). I will highlight instances of "telling" and "filtering"
THE OLD grandfather clock chimes nine thirty, its echo searing the last of my frayed nerves. I follow a trail of wax to a chipped piece of Mom’s Fiestaware, two feet from the porch swing. Though it’s July, fl ickers in windows across the street make it feel like Halloween and set my teeth chattering. The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill. It causes the shutters to knock as though they, too, can sense my dread.
Where is Mom? Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. The car doesn’t slow, but it spotlights my older sister sitting on the swing with the boy I’ve loved for two years. Amber’s wrapped in his muscular arms and caressing his silky brown hair. I think her tongue is somewhere down the middle of his throat. Ick. And apparently she’s not worried at all about Mom.
Wish she’d hurry up and go to EKU for the semester. At least I didn’t have to watch them when she was at college.
Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. One side of his shirt’s untucked and wrinkled, and he stuffs it back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting a lingering kiss on her, he pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
"Bye." My skin tingles where he touched me.
Where is Mom? Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. The car doesn’t slow, but it spotlights my older sister sitting on the swing with the boy I’ve loved for two years. Amber’s wrapped in his muscular arms and caressing his silky brown hair. I think her tongue is somewhere down the middle of his throat. Ick. And apparently she’s not worried at all about Mom.
Wish she’d hurry up and go to EKU for the semester. At least I didn’t have to watch them when she was at college.
Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. One side of his shirt’s untucked and wrinkled, and he stuffs it back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting a lingering kiss on her, he pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
"Bye." My skin tingles where he touched me.
To be honest, I didn't like the first half of the story... I think maybe a reader isn't supposed to like the first half of the story?
BUT... (AND IT'S A BIG OLD BUT) here's my rewrite:
The old grandfather clock chimes nine thirty, its echo searing the last of my frayed nerves. I follow a trail of wax through my darkened house to a chipped piece of Mom’s Fiestaware, two feet from the porch swing where my sister sits with the love of my life. “Hey, Amber.”
Nothing. Did she not hear me? How could she with her tongue halfway down Ethan’s throat?
The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill to the muggy July air. Our shutters knock, as though they, too, can sense my dread. “Amber! Have you heard anything from Mom?”
“Mmm.” She stretches her long arm and waves me away. Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling. Not ‘totally-together’ Mom, who always criticizes my ineptitude in letting her know when I’ll be home.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. It spotlights Amber’s tall, wispy frame wrapped in Ethan’s muscular arms while she caresses his silky brown hair. No surprise here, but doubtful she’s worried about Mom.
Wish she’d hurry up and leave for college. At least I didn’t have to watch them making out when they were at EKU.
Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. He stuffs his untucked, wrinkled shirt back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting another lingering kiss on Amber, he pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
“Bye.” Tingles cover my skin where he touched me. The boy seriously has no idea.
Nothing. Did she not hear me? How could she with her tongue halfway down Ethan’s throat?
The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill to the muggy July air. Our shutters knock, as though they, too, can sense my dread. “Amber! Have you heard anything from Mom?”
“Mmm.” She stretches her long arm and waves me away. Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling. Not ‘totally-together’ Mom, who always criticizes my ineptitude in letting her know when I’ll be home.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. It spotlights Amber’s tall, wispy frame wrapped in Ethan’s muscular arms while she caresses his silky brown hair. No surprise here, but doubtful she’s worried about Mom.
Wish she’d hurry up and leave for college. At least I didn’t have to watch them making out when they were at EKU.
Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. He stuffs his untucked, wrinkled shirt back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting another lingering kiss on Amber, he pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
“Bye.” Tingles cover my skin where he touched me. The boy seriously has no idea.
1) Word count: Original (254) Revision (263) That's not such a huge difference, but consider that we're looking at a short excerpt of an 80,000-word novel. For those of you struggling with word count, notice that when you take out the narrator and add more rich action and description, you'll naturally bump up your word count
2) Use of "I/my to reference the POVC": Original: 9 uses in 200 words Revision: 6 uses, and that's even counting two new ones that I added. (Lessens repetition)
3) Understanding the sense of Callie's urgency, the looming danger added to her mom's plight by the storm, and her despair at watching her sister make out with the guy that's supposed to be hers.
4) Getting some insight into relationships. With the deep POV, I've been able to sort of establish Callie as the good-girl younger sibling who gets called out for everything even though her older sister openly does drugs and makes out with her boyfriend on the front porch. One of the biggest issues I've had with this whole novel is people complaining that Callie was unlikeable because she was so bitter all the time. Well, yeah, she's bitter. Her sister is obnoxious. Who wouldn't be bitter in that situation? BUT, readers had no reason to sympathize with her before. Without giving the thoughts, it just makes Callie feel abrupt and hateful and rude. Adding in the thoughts, you see that Callie is more reactionary because she's deeply hurt by the situation. She's hurt that her mom can't trust her, and she's hurt that her sister seems to have no love for her.
Some line by line comparison:
Shallow POV: I follow a trail of wax to a chipped piece of Mom’s Fiestaware, two feet from the porch swing.
Deep POV: I follow a trail of wax through my darkened house to a chipped piece of Mom’s Fiestaware, two feet from the porch swing where my sister sits with the love of my life. “Hey, Amber.”
Nothing. Did she not hear me? How could she with her tongue halfway down Ethan’s throat?
Here you can see an example of writing things in the correct order. I need to establish that the power is out to show why there's wax and candles. I need to show the sister and the boyfriend before Callie reacts to their presence. Now, I can add in the dialogue of her speaking to her sister and that reactionary thought to show Callie's bitterness without making characters feel like she's just a brat. In the original line, you get nothing but fact. This is exactly what "I" do. This is exactly where "I" end up. But nothing else.
And this deep POV thought sets up a scenario that's going to be a big theme in the overall series. Callie spends her whole life loving the wrong things. This boy (spoiler) is not going to turn out to be her end-all, be-all. Her character arc is coming to that conclusion. It's a much better fit to establish that from the very beginning of the book so that it's a nice tie-up of loose ends at the conclusion of the story.
Deep POV: I follow a trail of wax through my darkened house to a chipped piece of Mom’s Fiestaware, two feet from the porch swing where my sister sits with the love of my life. “Hey, Amber.”
Nothing. Did she not hear me? How could she with her tongue halfway down Ethan’s throat?
Here you can see an example of writing things in the correct order. I need to establish that the power is out to show why there's wax and candles. I need to show the sister and the boyfriend before Callie reacts to their presence. Now, I can add in the dialogue of her speaking to her sister and that reactionary thought to show Callie's bitterness without making characters feel like she's just a brat. In the original line, you get nothing but fact. This is exactly what "I" do. This is exactly where "I" end up. But nothing else.
And this deep POV thought sets up a scenario that's going to be a big theme in the overall series. Callie spends her whole life loving the wrong things. This boy (spoiler) is not going to turn out to be her end-all, be-all. Her character arc is coming to that conclusion. It's a much better fit to establish that from the very beginning of the book so that it's a nice tie-up of loose ends at the conclusion of the story.
Shallow POV: Though it’s July, flickers in windows across the street make it feel like Halloween and set my teeth chattering. What I'm really trying to establish here is that the story is taking place in the summertime, but it's a scary storm. So I'm basically just shouting out to my readers, "Hey, it's July! And Callie's scared!" The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill. It causes the shutters to knock as though they, too, can sense my dread.
Deep POV: The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill to the muggy July air. Our shutters knock, as though they, too, can sense my dread. “Amber! Have you heard anything from Mom?”
I don't know why I held onto that Halloween teeth chattering line for so long. Every critiquer I ever had seemed to hate it. We don't need the windows flickering across the street to show that the storm has Callie's nerves in knots. Also, notice the personification of the shutters here.
Deep POV: The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill to the muggy July air. Our shutters knock, as though they, too, can sense my dread. “Amber! Have you heard anything from Mom?”
I don't know why I held onto that Halloween teeth chattering line for so long. Every critiquer I ever had seemed to hate it. We don't need the windows flickering across the street to show that the storm has Callie's nerves in knots. Also, notice the personification of the shutters here.
Deep POV: Where is Mom? Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling. You might notice that I've moved part of this up to a dialogue where Callie asks her sister about her mom. This line was already in deep POV, but I cut it back to add in some dialogue.
Deep POV: “Mmm.” She stretches her long arm and waves me away. Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling. Not ‘totally-together’ Mom, who always criticizes my ineptitude in letting her know when I’ll be home. You might also notice the extra action from Amber here. I just popped in a hint of character development, again because readers weren't "liking" Callie so much. Amber should be the character they don't like. So I just threw in another jerk move from her. Also, notice how I've added in some character development from Mom, too. Mom isn't the main antagonist. She's sort of a victim. But 'totally-together' Mom is her facade and that's an important detail to throw into the story. I'm introducing a couple of things here. First, Dad trusts Mom. He shouldn't, but he doesn't know that yet. And second, Mom's criticism of Callie is something she's being advised to do by the antagonist. So I have to build in some evidence of that happening before we see it in the story later.
Deep POV: “Mmm.” She stretches her long arm and waves me away. Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling. Not ‘totally-together’ Mom, who always criticizes my ineptitude in letting her know when I’ll be home. You might also notice the extra action from Amber here. I just popped in a hint of character development, again because readers weren't "liking" Callie so much. Amber should be the character they don't like. So I just threw in another jerk move from her. Also, notice how I've added in some character development from Mom, too. Mom isn't the main antagonist. She's sort of a victim. But 'totally-together' Mom is her facade and that's an important detail to throw into the story. I'm introducing a couple of things here. First, Dad trusts Mom. He shouldn't, but he doesn't know that yet. And second, Mom's criticism of Callie is something she's being advised to do by the antagonist. So I have to build in some evidence of that happening before we see it in the story later.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance.
The car doesn’t slow, but it spotlights my older sister sitting on the swing with the boy I’ve loved for two years. You should never write in prose what an object or person does not do. Always show what they actually do instead.
Amber’s wrapped in his muscular arms and caressing his silky brown hair.
I think her tongue is somewhere down the middle of his throat. Ick. And apparently she’s not worried at all about Mom.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. It spotlights Amber’s tall, wispy frame wrapped in Ethan’s muscular arms while she caresses his silky brown hair. No surprise here, but doubtful she’s worried about Mom.
The car doesn’t slow, but it spotlights my older sister sitting on the swing with the boy I’ve loved for two years. You should never write in prose what an object or person does not do. Always show what they actually do instead.
Amber’s wrapped in his muscular arms and caressing his silky brown hair.
I think her tongue is somewhere down the middle of his throat. Ick. And apparently she’s not worried at all about Mom.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. It spotlights Amber’s tall, wispy frame wrapped in Ethan’s muscular arms while she caresses his silky brown hair. No surprise here, but doubtful she’s worried about Mom.
Deep POV: Wish she’d hurry up and go to EKU for the semester. At least I didn’t have to watch them when she was at college. Just a little aside here. This is an example of something being contrived so the reader will know that it's true. I want to establish that this story is set in a fictional Kentucky town, so I planted a Kentucky college. But, people outside of Kentucky might not know what EKU stands for. It doesn't feel right to say Eastern Kentucky University in the thought. That's not how thoughts work. But, a simple little switch lets the idea of college come first, and then EKU makes sense that it stands for a university. At this point, doesn't even matter which university. We're just laying groundwork.
Deep POV: Wish she’d hurry up and leave for college. At least I didn’t have to watch them making out when they were at EKU.
Deep POV: Wish she’d hurry up and leave for college. At least I didn’t have to watch them making out when they were at EKU.
Shallow POV: Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp.
One side of his shirt’s untucked and wrinkled, and he stuffs it back into his jeans. Here's a place where personification really can't work. The shirt can't tuck itself in. So we have to have Ethan doing it. But we don't need to say that the shirt is untucked and wrinkled. The action of tucking it in implies that it was untucked in the first place.
“I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting a lingering kiss on her, he pats my shoulder. And here's an example where order makes a difference. I slipped out of deep POV here because I was not writing things in the order that the character experienced them.
“Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
Deep POV: Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. He stuffs his untucked, wrinkled shirt back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” He plants another lingering kiss on Amber then pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
One side of his shirt’s untucked and wrinkled, and he stuffs it back into his jeans. Here's a place where personification really can't work. The shirt can't tuck itself in. So we have to have Ethan doing it. But we don't need to say that the shirt is untucked and wrinkled. The action of tucking it in implies that it was untucked in the first place.
“I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting a lingering kiss on her, he pats my shoulder. And here's an example where order makes a difference. I slipped out of deep POV here because I was not writing things in the order that the character experienced them.
“Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
Deep POV: Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. He stuffs his untucked, wrinkled shirt back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” He plants another lingering kiss on Amber then pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
Shallow POV: "Bye." My skin tingles where he touched me. For this example, personification will work best. I'm just telling readers "my skin tingles" vs. the tingles themselves doing an action and covering my skin. I've also added the deep POV thought to bring it home.
Deep POV: “Bye.” Tingles cover my skin where he touched me. The boy seriously has no idea.
Deep POV: “Bye.” Tingles cover my skin where he touched me. The boy seriously has no idea.
So yes, you can make the argument that it "reads fine" in the original. 24 of my 28 reviewers agree. However, when you come back to that final version of my rewrite, you'll hopefully see that I've done a much better job at establishing intent, developing my characters, creating a tense situation, and leading the reader through the story as the character experiences and sees everything.
The old grandfather clock chimes nine thirty, its echo searing the last of my frayed nerves. I follow a trail of wax through my darkened house to a chipped piece of Mom’s Fiestaware, two feet from the porch swing where my sister sits with the love of my life. “Hey, Amber.”
Nothing. Did she not hear me? How could she with her tongue halfway down Ethan’s throat?
The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill to the muggy July air. Our shutters knock, as though they, too, can sense my dread. “Amber! Have you heard anything from Mom?”
“Mmm.” She stretches her long arm and waves me away. Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling. Not ‘totally-together’ Mom, who always criticizes my ineptitude in letting her know when I’ll be home.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. It spotlights Amber’s tall, wispy frame wrapped in Ethan’s muscular arms while she caresses his silky brown hair. No surprise here, but doubtful she’s worried about Mom.
Wish she’d hurry up and leave for college. At least I didn’t have to watch them making out when they were at EKU.
Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. He stuffs his untucked, wrinkled shirt back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting another lingering kiss on Amber, he pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
“Bye.” Tingles cover my skin where he touched me. The boy seriously has no idea.
Nothing. Did she not hear me? How could she with her tongue halfway down Ethan’s throat?
The whistling wind overtakes my flame, bringing an unseasonable chill to the muggy July air. Our shutters knock, as though they, too, can sense my dread. “Amber! Have you heard anything from Mom?”
“Mmm.” She stretches her long arm and waves me away. Dad’s earlier words still haunt me. She’d never be late without calling. Not ‘totally-together’ Mom, who always criticizes my ineptitude in letting her know when I’ll be home.
A passing car illuminates silhouettes of trees, whose limbs tangle and snap in their frenzied dance. It spotlights Amber’s tall, wispy frame wrapped in Ethan’s muscular arms while she caresses his silky brown hair. No surprise here, but doubtful she’s worried about Mom.
Wish she’d hurry up and leave for college. At least I didn’t have to watch them making out when they were at EKU.
Ethan yawns and stretches, working himself free from her grasp. He stuffs his untucked, wrinkled shirt back into his jeans. “I should leave. Gotta work an eight-to-four tomorrow.” After planting another lingering kiss on Amber, he pats my shoulder. “Bye, Callie. Hope your mom gets home soon.”
“Bye.” Tingles cover my skin where he touched me. The boy seriously has no idea.
Deep POV is not a required template for writing fiction. Plenty of people have done a fine job writing books in third and first person limited, third person omniscient, etc. and published books that resonate with readers. However, it's a huge market trend these days and something you definitely want to pursue if traditional publishing is your dream. Best of luck as you practice and hone your craft. I hope you'll write some deep POV excerpts and post them in the Fiction Forum, where I'll be glad to offer critique. Good luck! Hope you enjoyed the study!
