Don’t forget, folks, I have a brand spankin’ new presentation coming up at Chop Suey Books this weekend! Here’s the link to the flyer (oh, yeah, feel free to print and post all over the place. And to share the link to this post. And of COURSE to come out yourself…. but I really, really, really need RSVPs so that I know what head count I’m dealing with and to make sure I don’t exceed room capacity! So please do send me an email if you’re definitely attending.):
Tag Archives: writing class
Point of View vs. Perception
When we talk about point of view, we’re talking about the overall approach to telling the story, and there are three basic terms:
1st person: “I saw the bird. It was bright and yellow, and I wanted to fly with it.”
2nd person: “You saw the bird. It was bright and yellow, and you wanted to fly with it.”
3rd person: “John saw the bird. It was bright and yellow, and he wanted to fly with it.”
***
Leaving aside complications like past/present tense and omniscient/limited omniscient styles of writing, those three terms are the children’s building-blocks of storytelling.
Perception, on the other hand, is what the chosen point of view actually sees and how that POV interprets it. This is where character building comes into play; the character has to act as a filter for all that great research and world building you’ve been doing for your novel.
Let’s take John and Amy, for example. John is a depressed, self-centered jerk, and Amy is a loving, happy, generous person. (Notice the gender stereotypes buried in that statement—but that’s a discussion for another post.) Filtering their personalities through the various points of view, we might get:
First Person POV:
I walked along the park path. The birds were chirping away as though to announce that the world was a good place. Lying, brainless, obnoxious little creatures: I never can understand why anyone likes birds. They’re not even good to eat, as far as I’m concerned.
Second Person, with John speaking and “you” meaning you, the reader:
You always smile when you see birds. Why? They’re obnoxious and messy, and even chicken tastes, at best, like roadkill. You walk around watching the birds swoop and wheel around in the sky, you point out the bright colors and the different songs, and you think other people agree with you—but really, they’re just too polite to tell you you’re a moron.
Third Person:
John walked along the park path. The birds were chirping away as though the world might actually be a good place. He couldn’t understand why anyone found them attractive. All they did was crap all over the place. He didn’t even like eating chicken, because chicken was a bird and birds were dirty creatures.
***
And now for Amy’s rather more cheerful view of the world:
First Person POV:
I walked along the park path. The sun and the warmth of the day had brought flocks of birds out; I saw and heard robins, woodpeckers, chickadees, thrushes, sparrows, and a dozen more varieties, all within a half mile walk of my house. I always feel better about my life after walking through the park and listening to the birds; it reminds me that even my largest problems really don’t affect the world at large, so they must actually be pretty small.
Second Person, with Amy speaking and “you” meaning John, the person she’s addressing:
You never smile any more. You used to smile. You used to laugh, you used to go out to dance and walk through the park and even sing, when you had a beer or two in your system. Now you just sit around the house and mope and drink more beer than you ought to. You don’t look at the birds any longer, you don’t listen to music, you’ve given up all hope. Come out to the park. Take a look at the birds. Feel the sunshine on your skin, run a few steps, sing a little, and realize that your problems are all actually pretty small, compared to the miracle of a bird flying through the air and the leaves waving in the wind.
Third Person:
Amy walked along the park path, enjoying the sunny warmth of the day. Flocks of birds wheeled overhead: starlings, descending en masse and startling away the lesser robins, chickadees, and sparrows. The noisy grackling of the big black birds filled the air, drowning out even the wails of a nearby infant in a stroller. Amy smiled and went on, watching the birds, not particularly thinking about anything at all.
***
Those are just a few rough examples of what can be done with any given scenario from different perspectives and points of view. Try it with your own work—rewrite a paragraph or two, or even an entire chapter, from another character’s perspective, or from a different point of view, just to see what happens. Just for fun. (You are writing for fun, after all…right?)
Like this:
So Much To Read, So Little Time…
My stack of To Be Read may not quite rival that of an editor, or a publisher, or even some of my writer friends, but it’s pretty intimidating to me:
This stack contains several pending book reviews for Green Man Review or Sleeping Hedgehog, reference books on writing novels, mythology, and historical fact, and a couple, just a couple, for my own reading delight (those would be the recently acquired Glen Cook books and the ones on spirituality). Even the Dickens doorstopper up at the top is reference material (don’t ask, and I won’t bore you with the details on that one).
And then there are the books that are in my e-files to read: the editing sample chapter due out next week, the books piling up on the Kindle that I desperately want to read, the copy of Treasure Island that came on my shiny new phone, oh, and one that didn’t make it into the picture above: Tolkien and the Study of His Sources: Critical Essays, That one needs turned around for a review in the near future, as I’ve been sitting on it for far too long (and trudging through diligently but slooooowly. It’s not a fast read for me.) I did just turn in a review of the New American Vegan to Sleeping Hedgehog, so that’s one less off the stack.
And then there’s a book in progress and short stories to polish and send out, and editing on book 3 about to begin, and teaching a writing workshop class this Sunday, and a Plan to create for the next six months–stay tuned for that, as I’m daring to dream a little here–and oh, yeah…. tomorrow is my eleven year anniversary of being with my wonderfully patient husband. So I’m taking time off from everything to celebrate that…
Which is what you have to do when you’re madly overloaded with schtufftado: kick it all aside for the day and say screw it, I’m gonna party… ;-p
Like this:
Topic, Topic, Who’s Got The Topic?
I’m beginning to shift my emphasis from attending conventions (expensive, time consuming, exhausting) to smaller, more local activities like speaking to book groups and gatherings of writers. So far I have one class scheduled through the Muse Writers Center of Norfolk in April and another presentation through WriterHouse of Charlottesville in May. I’m in the process of arranging a second presentation through Chop Suey Books of Richmond (since the first one went sooooo well–thanks again to everyone who showed up!). One of these days I’ll get around to talking with the local library about arranging a presentation there. Options are beginning to pile up, now that I’m committed to this way of doing things.
I’m feeling a whole lot happier with this path. Conventions will always be an essential, useful, and voraciously fun part of my life–but given my recent burnout, it makes sense for me to scale back on such massive events and focus on smaller venues where I can really talk to people, the way I loooove to do. There just isn’t enough time at a convention, and there are just too many people wandering about to focus on any one conversation properly.
However–or howevahh, as Ash Ambirge would put it–that brings me face to face with another dilemna dilemma –dangit–problem…(yes, I run into how the hell do you spell that it looks wrong no matter what I type every so often, just like everyone else. Sometimes simplest is truly best. This blog is not where I practice perfection. It’s where I practice get it out there. Nitpicking is for novels and stories.)…
That problem being: selecting a topic. At a convention, I’m generally told what panels I will be on, and I prepare for them accordingly. And I have a built in audience. Doing it yourself, you got to get them folks a-settin’ in the chairs all on your own.
How does one go about putting together a talk that brings people out; how does one build a reputation for being worth coming out to see, even in icky weather; how does one select a topic that will appeal to others?
Well, it’s all one, for me. What would bring me out in icky weather? What would make me want to listen to someone ramble on about writing in the first place? What topic would I want to hear about?
The answers, for me at least, pretty much all come down to community and sincerity. If I get the sense that the writer is going to be blathering on about themselves for an hour, I don’t waste my time. But if the writer is genuinely seeking to give back to the community, and is talking about something they sincerely love (other than their own work), I’m usually willing to risk a couple hours of my time.
So once the writer has had that initial chance, what makes me want to come back?
If they’re clear that their suggestions are just one approach to the overall. If they leave lots of room for other ways of doing things that tie into their basic suggestion. If they’re cheerful, and articulate, and cogent, and don’t ramble off topic (much). If they invite audience participation and can springboard from a wildly off-topic discussion back into the main theme without being obvious about pulling the room back together. If there is little to no talk of their own books along the way, unless it’s totally relevant–and brief, even then. If they’re fun, and attentive to the audience’s shifting mood.
Of course, it never hurts if they put out a good pot of coffee and maybe some decent cookies. (No store brand generic crap, puh-leeze. I mean, really? I get having a tight budget, but this isn’t where to skimp.)
So, since that’s what attracts me, that’s what I try to offer at my presentations. And that same approach applies to choosing the topic–I look at what I love, and where those things intersect my writing. For example, I love cooking and all things foodie; I’m therefore developing a series of presentations based around food in writing. Biiiig topic. Lots of possibilities. I’ll be playing with that one for a while.
For you beginning writers out there: start thinking about what draws you out to events. Start thinking about what you love to do for hobbies. Start writing notes to yourself about how those things weave into the craft of writing. Because one day… maybe sooner than you think… you’ll be faced with an invitation to stand up in front of folks and talk about writing as though you know what the hell you’re talking about. And that’s scaaaarrrrryyyyy.
Only it’s not, if you’re just talking to a few people about stuff you genuinely love. If you take that approach, why– it’s fun! It’s worth jumping out of bed in the morning and racing to the computer to work on. It keeps the joy in what can be an incredibly stressful process. And that will keep you from burning out… or help you recover from a burnout, if you’re already past that point.
Remember, always: you’re in this to have fun. If you’re not having fun–what the hell are you doing here? Seriously? Sure, there’s slog times and beat your head against the wall times and pits of despair–but you get that in any job. If, at the deepest, most basic level, you’re not totally and insanely in loooooove with writing (or any creative endeavor)–you’re wasting your time. Go work at an office, where everyone expects you to hate the job.
For those of you still here–what are you doing? Get back to writing already. 
P.S.: I think I might just be getting my zazziness back. Wheee! Let’s hear it for lots of naps in pools of sunshine. 
