Literary Point of View: An Exercise
Use what’s most comfortable, but practice until everything is comfortable
This morning, I participated in a lively discussion about literary point of view (POV). There are three: first person; second person; and third person (limited or omniscient). Point of view is related to, but not synonymous with perspective. You can write from any character’s perspective, using a different point of view.
First and third person point of view are commonly used in fiction; second person is commonly used in instructional materials, such as user’s guides. When giving directions, we use imperative sentences that address an implied second person: “First, (you) do this…” To use second person point of view in fiction is rare, and it is more of a challenge for the writer. It can be off-putting to some readers, but second person POV has a way of drawing the reader into the story, including the reader as an active participant in the action. It may appeal to younger readers and gamers, particularly.
Literary point of view is a fairly straightforward concept, but sometimes, it’s easier to learn from examples and demonstrations. Justice Potter Stewart could not define “obscenity” ( Jacobellis v. Ohio (1964)), but said, “I know it when I see it.”
Examples
The following scenes are essentially the same, but written in different points of view.
DISENGAGED (First Person, Past Tense)
I poured myself another cup of coffee and settled in for my third Zoom meeting of the morning. I told myself to radiate positivity and team spirit. I was determined not to argue when Ben from Marketing started spouting nonsense. I told myself to smile when Gary, in Engineering, said that whatever it is, it could be done tomorrow. I knew we’d be playing Liar’s Poker, but I resolved to nod and smile and pretend to believe.
Staring into space, disengaged, I conjured a vision: my office faded and I was shaded by a canopy of dark, green leaves. Outside my window, the sound of water from the garden sprinkler became a mist-enshrouded waterfall, its gentle susurration punctuated by the shrill call of a parrot. Someone called my name. I wondered, idly, when the parrot…
