First Person POV Limited
Or: The I in Your Meat Head
The comments: "I felt claustrophobic." Or "It feels like a laundry list." Or "Headhopping." Or "You're infologuing here."
What they mean: The narrative in First Person POV (1stPOV) is so limited to what the narrator (the "I" in your story) experiences, that it turns into a list of telling statements (A "laundry list" of sentences starting with the word "I".). Or trying to introduce an event or knowledge that the narrator cannot physically know results in infodumps disguised as dialogue.
Quick fixes: Vary sentence structure. This is a two-birds-one-stone quickie! Not starting with "I" statements can also help you describe experiences rather than the claustrophobic focus of describing the narrative character as events occur.
Frex: I brushed the hair from my face as I stood up. I shielded my eyes as I looked around.
Vs. Wisps of smoke, sputters of dull orange flames, were the only things moving in the gutted infrastructures.
Regarding headhopping: Expanded post here. For 1stPOV, the easiest, most common mistake to make and fix is the BLUSH. I can feel my cheeks get hot, get prickly, sweat, etc. I cannot see my cheeks turn scarlet, redden, or become pink.
The infologuing aka infodumps disguised as dialogue. A severe limitation of 1stPOV is that the narrator's meat head is absolute. A workaround I've seen pop up is the narrator happens upon a person who was present when the narrator couldn't be and the ensuing exchange happens:
"You should've been there, J! Where were you?" said Martha.
At the time, I happened to be battling a dragon and afterwards I went for a mani-pedi. But to protect my super secret identity, I said, "I was on a date. Why, what happened?"
"Well, decades ago, Knight Soandso, who's my cousin on my father's side, went insane. That meant my older brother, Bigandtall, would be next in line to the throne. Well, he went up to King Tinybits and said that he didn't want the throne. On account of our super secret family curse that says anyone who wears the crown goes bald. So Tinybits ordered all his white-cloaked knights to kill Bigandtall. Anyway, Bigandtall's youngest daughter vowed to avenge him. She just turned sixteen. She was hiding in the woods, by the way, training to be a knight in secret. Well, she comes out of hiding and strolls into the castle and tries to kill King Tinybits, only Tinybits was ready and she didn't even get through the front door!"
So what's the quickfix for this? Well… it could be something as simple as making sure your narrator already knows 90% of everything that happened in the world you've placed them in. Another fix is to address each interaction in which you must reveal a plot element as a poker game. Keep in mind that each person speaking has his/her own motivations for what they choose to reveal or conceal. Play it off a narrator who may not want to know everything.
The deeper issue the comment can reveal is that you've chosen a pov character who is too far from the plot or too limited by the story's world elements. Frex: a farmer's son wouldn't be plausibly privy to political machinations (or you could devote your 20k words of worldbuilding to get him there.) A cheerleader may not know everything going on in the teacher's lounge. The not-so-quick fix is to rewrite the WIP from the POV of someone who doesn't have such limitations.
Let's put our serious pants on.
Awfully generic example:
I watched my young son romp across the park field. I was enjoying the heat of a summer morning. A woman came and sat by me on the bench.
"It's so nice to see a father enjoying time with his son," she said.
I nodded.
"What do you do?" she asked.
I felt wary as I sat up and turned slightly towards her. I panicked, cheeks turning red from embarrassment. "I'm a nursing student," I said. I immediately felt ashamed for denying what I really did.
Deconstructed:
I watched my young son romp across the park field. (Focuses attention on what the narrator is doing, rather than what the narrator is experiencing.) I was enjoying the heat of a summer morning. (Telling.) A woman came and sat by me on the bench. (Vague)
"It's so nice to see a father enjoying time with his son," she said.
I nodded. I felt wary as I sat up and turned slightly towards her. (Telling. Again, focus is on the narrator instead of the experience.)
"What do you do?" she asked.
I panicked, (Telling. Also, adding to my "I" statement laundry list)cheeks turning red from embarrassment (headhopping). "I'm a nursing student," I said. I immediately felt ashamed for denying what I really did. (Telling.)
Rewritten:
Tommy's fat little cheeks quivered as he toddled across the park field.
"Stay close!" I called out half-heartedly. Sunlight dappled my winter-pale legs with denaturing heat. A familiar tall brunette pushed an empty stroller up to my bench and plopped down. I'd seen her before, talking to Ann from across our rose hedges, and my wife relayed their mundane conversations to me when we ran out of things to say about ourselves. But I couldn't recall the brunette's name, only the fact that she was a breast cancer survivor.
"Nice to see a father enjoying time with his son," she said.
I nodded and sat up, wishing I'd had a second cup of coffee, written another thousand words, or read Tommy another chapter from Moo Cow. Any of those would've made me too late for this obligatory let's-get-to-know-each-other playground parents' communion.
"What do you do?" she asked.
My cheeks burned hotter and hotter as I considered and rejected a dozen glib retorts. "I'm a nursing student," I said. Immediately a wave of nausea struck me and I had to turn away, swallowing convulsively, or else I'd projectile vomit the truth on her face.
Examples of First Person POV Limited:
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Very tight POV can help a story that focuses more on characterization than epic adventuring.
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. NSFW reading. 1stPOV can help reveal things about the protag the way a flashlight creates shadows in an otherwise pitch black room.
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. An example of how 1stPOV doesn't have to be tight or from a reliable narrator to carry a story.
"You should've been there, J! Where were you?" said Martha.
At the time, I happened to be battling a dragon and afterwards I went for a mani-pedi. But to protect my super secret identity, I said, "I was on a date. Why, what happened?"
"Well, decades ago, Knight Soandso, who's my cousin on my father's side, went insane. That meant my older brother, Bigandtall, would be next in line to the throne. Well, he went up to King Tinybits and said that he didn't want the throne. On account of our super secret family curse that says anyone who wears the crown goes bald. So Tinybits ordered all his white-cloaked knights to kill Bigandtall. Anyway, Bigandtall's youngest daughter vowed to avenge him. She just turned sixteen. She was hiding in the woods, by the way, training to be a knight in secret. Well, she comes out of hiding and strolls into the castle and tries to kill King Tinybits, only Tinybits was ready and she didn't even get through the front door!"
So what's the quickfix for this? Well… it could be something as simple as making sure your narrator already knows 90% of everything that happened in the world you've placed them in. Another fix is to address each interaction in which you must reveal a plot element as a poker game. Keep in mind that each person speaking has his/her own motivations for what they choose to reveal or conceal. Play it off a narrator who may not want to know everything.
The deeper issue the comment can reveal is that you've chosen a pov character who is too far from the plot or too limited by the story's world elements. Frex: a farmer's son wouldn't be plausibly privy to political machinations (or you could devote your 20k words of worldbuilding to get him there.) A cheerleader may not know everything going on in the teacher's lounge. The not-so-quick fix is to rewrite the WIP from the POV of someone who doesn't have such limitations.
Let's put our serious pants on.
Awfully generic example:
I watched my young son romp across the park field. I was enjoying the heat of a summer morning. A woman came and sat by me on the bench.
"It's so nice to see a father enjoying time with his son," she said.
I nodded.
"What do you do?" she asked.
I felt wary as I sat up and turned slightly towards her. I panicked, cheeks turning red from embarrassment. "I'm a nursing student," I said. I immediately felt ashamed for denying what I really did.
Deconstructed:
I watched my young son romp across the park field. (Focuses attention on what the narrator is doing, rather than what the narrator is experiencing.) I was enjoying the heat of a summer morning. (Telling.) A woman came and sat by me on the bench. (Vague)
"It's so nice to see a father enjoying time with his son," she said.
I nodded. I felt wary as I sat up and turned slightly towards her. (Telling. Again, focus is on the narrator instead of the experience.)
"What do you do?" she asked.
I panicked, (Telling. Also, adding to my "I" statement laundry list)cheeks turning red from embarrassment (headhopping). "I'm a nursing student," I said. I immediately felt ashamed for denying what I really did. (Telling.)
Rewritten:
Tommy's fat little cheeks quivered as he toddled across the park field.
"Stay close!" I called out half-heartedly. Sunlight dappled my winter-pale legs with denaturing heat. A familiar tall brunette pushed an empty stroller up to my bench and plopped down. I'd seen her before, talking to Ann from across our rose hedges, and my wife relayed their mundane conversations to me when we ran out of things to say about ourselves. But I couldn't recall the brunette's name, only the fact that she was a breast cancer survivor.
"Nice to see a father enjoying time with his son," she said.
I nodded and sat up, wishing I'd had a second cup of coffee, written another thousand words, or read Tommy another chapter from Moo Cow. Any of those would've made me too late for this obligatory let's-get-to-know-each-other playground parents' communion.
"What do you do?" she asked.
My cheeks burned hotter and hotter as I considered and rejected a dozen glib retorts. "I'm a nursing student," I said. Immediately a wave of nausea struck me and I had to turn away, swallowing convulsively, or else I'd projectile vomit the truth on her face.
Examples of First Person POV Limited:
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Very tight POV can help a story that focuses more on characterization than epic adventuring.
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. NSFW reading. 1stPOV can help reveal things about the protag the way a flashlight creates shadows in an otherwise pitch black room.
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. An example of how 1stPOV doesn't have to be tight or from a reliable narrator to carry a story.
This is really good stuff. You must be famous. Jonathan Franzen says don't use 1st person unless you're character is truly interesting but what the heck does he know?
ReplyDeleteFrigging autocorrect, your not you're
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