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Article 3: Point-of-View: Giving Good Head
If you pick up any decent book on general fiction writing, the
chances are that you'll find a chapter on Point-of-View (or POV,
as I'll abbreviate it from now on).
Careful POV control is one of the most powerful tools in the fiction
writer's box of tricks for generating sympathetic, engaging characters,
yet it's also one of the most misunderstood and misused - in mainstream
fiction as well as in the erotica genre.
If you're not sure what POV is, think of a movie camera. In the
broadest terms, the camera can zoom right out, giving an overview
of the entire scene and story. Or it can zoom in to examine one
person. When it's zoomed out, it can see everything that happens,
but it can't follow any single character effectively. When it's
zoomed in, we can get to know the viewpoint character very well
- to the point of really caring for him or her, if it's done well
- but we can't see anything that happens outside the perception
of the character.
Fiction is typically written in one of the following POVs (second
person is seldom used except in offbeat and experimental work, but
I'll include it in the list for completeness):
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First Person
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I go
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Second Person
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You go
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Third Person
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He/she goes
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First person stories are written from the viewpoint of the
narrator - they're like an eyewitness account of what happens. Everything
is related directly as events and dialogue seen or heard by the
narrator. We never get to see inside anyone else's head - the entire
story is filtered through the prejudice and perception of the person
through who's eyes it's being told.
Third person stories can be written in one of two ways:
omniscient and limited. An omniscient narrator can write things
like:
Bob looked at the way Lisa's nipples peaked darkly under the
sheer fabric of her blouse. Amused, Lisa gazed back at him with
her grey eyes and he looked away guiltily, wondering if she'd noticed
him ogling her - but it was all right, she seen him and she didn't
mind. She was too busy concentrating on his tightly-muscled chest.
Lisa wanted Bob as badly as he wanted her.
where we've skipped from Bob's head to Lisa's, and back again,
and forward, all in a handful of sentences. There's no doubt about
what the couple want, because the omniscient narrator can report
exactly what Bob and Lisa are thinking. But I hope you can see that
the above passage lacks power and continuity because of the way
it skips around between the two characters' viewpoints.
Writing in third-person limited POV and adopting Bob as our viewpoint
character, we might have something like:
Bob looked at the way Lisa's nipples peaked darkly under the
sheer fabric of her blouse. Was it arousal that stiffened them,
or simply the chill evening air? He realised he was staring and
jerked his eyes away guiltily, hoping his inspection hadn't been
too obvious. If she'd noticed anything, she showed no sign. She
simply gazed at him with her clear, grey eyes. He shifted uneasily,
wondering what she'd think - and how she'd respond - if she knew
how much he desired her.
Though we've lost the detailed knowledge that the narrator could
provide in the first version, we've gained something that more than
compensates: closer character identification. Let's go back to the
first passage, which was written from an omniscient third-person
POV, and see what advantages and disadvantages it gave us:
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We got to describe Lisa - by looking through Bob's eyes,
and Bob - by looking through Lisa's. Since erotica is a genre
where physical descriptions are important, that's a significant
plus point.
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o
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In a broader sense, there was no need to worry about who
could perceive or know any particular piece of information.
As narrator, we can report that Bob wants Lisa and Lisa wants
Bob, and that's the end of the matter. This makes it easy
to write.
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We never drew the reader close to either of the characters;
never communicated anything of their inner lives. Why not?
Because the camera was pulled back to include both, instead
of focussing on one. All the information was on the table
for the reader to see - and if the reader sees all, it's hard
to suggest characters who don't.
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The narrator couldn't fade away into the background. There
had to be someone present other than the characters, someone
omniscient who exists as a shadow in the reader's mind even
if not in the scene, to report all the information which neither
Bob nor Lisa could know alone.
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Now let's look at the second passage, which was written in a limited
third-person POV, looking through Bob's eyes:
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We could describe Lisa as much as we wanted; after all, Bob
is right there, looking at her. But we couldn't describe Bob
at all. If we wanted to do that, we'd have to resort to a
different method (for example, we could have Lisa comment
on his chest, or trace her fingernails along the muscle to
suggest that he's in good shape. Another common trick is to
have the character look in the mirror, but that's a cheap
one- how many of us look in the mirror and inventory our features
with any regularity?)
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In a broader sense, we had to take care only to relate things
that Bob could see or know. Lisa's feelings must remain a
closed book unless she talks about them - and even then, she
might not be completely honest. In fact, she might by an outright
liar, set on manipulating poor Bob! The reader - like Bob
- must resort to interpreting Lisa through her actions and
words, and picking up signals such as her steady gaze and
her erect nipples.
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We got much closer to Bob in the second passage. By spending
unbroken time with him, by placing the readers in his shoes
and inside his head, we can show his hope and his self-doubt.
By withholding information that Bob considers vital, we can
create sympathy for Bob and encourage the reader to identify
with him. Consider this: anyone who's old enough to date will
have been in Bob/Lisa's situation in the second passage. No
one will have experienced the perfect information delivered
in the first passage - unless they're telepathic. Which technique
is more likely to draw your reader in?
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If we eventually want to switch to Lisa's POV, we can still
do so - but we'll use a scene-break or a chapter-break to
signal the transition to the reader. This avoids the random
jumping around of omniscient storytelling and I used it in
Spike Trap. Having
said that, in a short story it's common to stick with one
POV, and even in a novel, you can get exceptional character
identification by staying with a single character (which is
what I did in my novel Property
Rites, the whole story being seen through the eyes
of the heroine, Alasha).
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The narrator was able to fade away into the background. As
far as the reader was concerned, this scene was experienced
through a single character: Bob, and no one else was needed
to explain things or throw in extra pieces of information.
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Before we leave this little scene, let's take a look at it from
a first person POV:
I was acutely conscious of how puckered and hard my nipples
were, and how deliciously the fine silk caressed them whenever I
moved. Being around Bob always made them stand to attention and
tonight I was braless, and wearing the skimpiest blouse I possessed
- not to mention the shortest skirt. I kept noticing him staring
at my boobs ... It was funny but a bit embarrassing too, I guess,
because I didn't really know how he felt about me, though I had
my hopes. I pretended not to notice his roaming eyes. It wasn't
hard, really, because I kept being distracted by the way his own
muscles flexed and rippled under that tightly buttoned shirt...
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Here, we have close character engagement, because Lisa has
been relating her hopes and fears directly, and because the
narration happens in the character's distinctive voice.
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The fact that the character is the narrator means
that the narrator can't simply fade away into the background,
as in limited third person.
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There's no straightforward way to switch to another point
of view at a chapter or scene break. Once you've started relating
Lisa's story in the first person, you can't explore story
events or characters of which Lisa isn't aware. Among other
things, that means no sex scenes that don't involve Lisa,
at least as an observer!
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Digressions are easier. For example, as a first-person narrator
who is implicity aware that she has an audience, Lisa
could drop in the comment about her skirt - because she chose
to wear it, after all - without it seeming at all unnatural.
If the scene was written from her POV in limited third person,
this would have jarred a little - an external narrator would
have come on stage for a moment, drop the information about
the skirt, and then retire again as gracefully as possible.
After all, she'd be unlikely to muse to herself, in the middle
of a seduction, I'm wearing my shortest skirt tonight,
would she?
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So, having gone through all that, which viewpoint should you use?
For a beginning writer seeking to create engaging characters, I
strongly recommend using either first-person or limited third-person
- and preferably limited third person. Reader identification - the
very stuff of engaging fiction, including erotica - is easiest to
do if you stay away from omniscience and inside your characters'
heads. Omniscient may be less challenging to write, but it's far
more challenging to write well. That said, if you're an experienced
and skilled author then you'll no doubt be able to use it successfully-
but in that case, you won't need me to write POV articles for you
:-)
Further reading: I recommend Characters and Viewpoint by
Orson Scott Card.
Comments on this article are welcome (please don't change the email subject line!)
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