About this New Year's Thing . . .

Happy New Year, everyone. Yes, I know it’s January 13, but this is my first Writers Who Kill blog for the year, so it still feels like a new year. For those who make resolutions, there’s probably a 50/50 chance you’re keeping all of them. And for those who celebrate the new year using other calendars: Chinese, Hebrew, Hirji, and so many others I have no clue about, I don’t apologize for my celebration of the Gregorian calendar. Nor do I put my version of keeping track of time ahead of yours. It is, however, the way I see the world.

This “how I see the world” is important to understanding how deeply buried our preconceived notions can be. And when we turn to the author business of creating characters, we must also keep in mind that people act from their beliefs, regardless of facts.

Taking calendars as an example, embedded in my use of the Gregorian calendar is Christianity. In its original form, the current calendar year would be referred to as AD 2019. The AD comes from the medieval Latin anno Domini, meaning “in the year of our Lord”, referring to the year attributed to the birth of Jesus Christ. (Scholars don’t agree on when Jesus was born, but most think it was several years before the Gregorian calendar starts counting. The Gregorian Calendar is a modification of the earlier Julian calendar done to more accurately reflect leap years.)

Sometime during my lifetime, a movement occurred to secularize naming of years and change AD to CE, which stands for “Common Era.” Turns out, like many things “I know,” the actual timing of this movement is not as I remembered. The first reference may have been 1615 used by the astronomer Johannes Kepler. Scientists were the first adopters.

The Latin equivalent of anno Domini is ante Cristum natum (before the birth of Christ). Unlike the AD, which stuck, ADN did not, and many languages rejected the Latin and substituted the words in their own language. In English this became Before Christ, shortened to BC and occurring after the numerical date, so the year before AD 1 is 1 BC. Poor zero never got a chance to strut his stuff. BC, morphs to BCE (before Common Era) in the secularized version.

Yet even dressing up dates with the new CE and BCE tags, does not eliminate their Christian origins. The origins are obfuscated, but no less present. Scratch the surface the tiniest bit and the Christian origins sparkle beneath the clothing we’ve put on dates.

People and characters often hold truths that are not fact-based. My false recollection that the use of CE was introduced during my lifetime is a small, and probably inconsequential, example. But it does suggest we need to periodically question the basis of our understandings.

In discussing Trump’s Wall with someone of a more conservative persuasion than I hold, I referred to the first line in Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall”:

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

I was told I had missed the whole point of the poem, which she claimed was contained in the last line:

“Good fences make good neighbors.”

And this illustrates our differences more clearly than I could have earlier articulated: my strong attachment to the poem’s first line, hers to its last. I argue context: the narrator does NOT agree with the “Good fences make good neighbors.” statement handed down from neighbor father to neighbor son, spoken reverently without reflection upon the rationale behind the saying or when it may or may not be justified.

That, of course, is my point of view and it fits my personality, I often challenge “truths” to test their limits. My math background makes me dig for the hidden assumptions that support the “facts.”

Others prefer to follow the well-worn path espoused by those before them. Testing these known truths is irrational and counterproductive.

The problem with unchallenged misunderstandings in ourselves or others is they become bedrock truths. I would have great difficulty thinking that today belongs to the year 5779 (Hebrew Calendar). Conceptually, I understand it’s just a different number system that mathematically maps calendar days one-to-one from my current system. No day is lost, none added. It’s a matter of convenience, I say, and ignore the cultural significance of the choice.

I often see errors in fact made by people espousing all shades of political views. When I have specific expertise (usually actuarial or financial), I’ll often try to provide a correct explanation. This reflection on the New Year and its cultural bias has made me realize maybe I should have a New Year’s resolution.

I hereby resolve to try to be more conscious of my inherent biases before touting my opinion.

But, I already know as soon as I enter the world of Facebook, I’m more likely to find the speck in your eye than the beam in mine. How long will your resolution last?

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James M. Jackson authors the Seamus McCree mystery series. Empty Promises, the fifth novel in the series—this one set in the deep woods of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula—is now available. You can sign up for his newsletter and find more information about Jim and his books at https://jamesmjackson.com.

The Importance of Point of View

By James M. Jackson

I once took it as an article of faith that when an author employs multiple points of view (POVs) in a story, the character with the most at stake in a scene should be the POV character for that scene.

I have no idea where I learned that “truth,” but it made sense to me—until it didn’t.

Exceptions to the Rule:

1. The character with the most at stake is not a POV character.

Well shoot, now what? I’ve recently read a novel with ten or twelve POV characters. That author solved this issue by creating a new POV character, even though that scene was the only one narrated from that person’s perspective.

I prefer to limit the POV characters to the fewest number that makes sense for the story, and I would do everything in my power to avoid a one-time POV character. I’d start my rewrite process for that scene by reminding myself what its goals were.

I might be able to achieve those same goals by adding information to an already written scene. If not, I might employ other characters to describe the actions and body language of the individual most impacted, conveying the import to that person (as perceived by the POV character). I could possibly accomplish this by adding a POV character to the original scene. Alternately, I could have two individuals discuss what happened, providing their insight into the matter.

If none of these approaches work, I need to examine whether there is a bigger issue with the story I need to address.

2. It creates a spoiler.

Say the book is a mystery in which our protagonist is trying to discover the killer’s identity. If a scene written in the killer’s POV lets the reader know who the killer is, it will spoil the mystery. Either change the book into a thriller (in which readers can know the killer) or change the POV character to keep the mystery alive.

3. Authorial needs for the story dictate a different character.

Sometimes I choose a POV character because I want to reveal something about another character (often the protagonist), and I can do it in a more active manner using a different POV. If I need to describe the protagonist, I can go with the mirror routine (which I personally dislike) or have the character worry about what someone else will think when they see whatever it is the protagonist is worried about. I prefer to bring out the issue in dialogue and have the protagonist reluctantly divulge what caused the problem.

But if you just want readers to know your protag is a 6’2” hunk, sometimes the best way is to have another POV character provide the description, especially when the protagonist is not in the scene and two other characters are talking about him.

Sometimes the “normal” POV doesn’t have the necessary physical or mental attributes or interests to notice a clue, but the author wants the reader to “see it”. Another character can come to the rescue. In my Seamus McCree novels, Seamus might watch a video and know whether a particular bird should be heard in that setting. His son, Paddy, would have no clue about that, but Paddy would know if someone moved the flour on the shelf, whereas Seamus wouldn’t. If Seamus broke his glasses, he couldn’t see, and if something needed to be seen, it would have to be by another character. While that other character could report what (s)he saw, maybe that doesn’t work well for the plot and it isn’t as active.

4. Giving POV characters a fair share of the story.

I took a plotting course in which the instructor suggested POV characters should appear in a predictable order so the reader knew what to expect. I will never be that structured, but if you are, and if you want to write scenes that go AB, AB, AB, etc. or ABC, ABC, ABC, etc., it dictates who your POV character needs to be for each scene. You may have to carefully structure the order of your scenes to pull this off.

Even if you don’t go that far with multiple POVs, you might want to avoid the orphan POV character who only appears in one or two scenes. Either rewrite those scenes or find some others in which to tell the story from that character’s perspective.

In writing romances, both parties need sufficient time on the page for the reader to root for the happy ending.

5. The person with the most at stake changes in the middle of a scene.

Something happens in the scene to switch who has the most at stake. Perhaps character A has a secret she has been dreading to tell character B. A is so relieved to unburden herself, she’s emotionally done for the scene. After that cathartic release, B’s feelings about this secret are the most important consideration.

To solve this problem, consider switching POV characters midscene. Some authors are so smooth at POV switches they can do it midsentence and readers don’t notice or care. My choice is to break the scene and start another one.

Sometimes I pick-up the action immediately following the revelation; sometimes I leave out several actions the reader can intuit and restart the scene later in the action. Or, I will go back a few lines and retell the last part of the broken scene from B’s POV, using the same dialogue, but changing tags and beats to reflect B’s thoughts and feelings.

As readers and writers, how do you feel about an author’s choice of Point of View characters?

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James M. Jackson authors the Seamus McCree mystery series. Empty Promises, the fifth novel in the series—this one set in the deep woods of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula—is now available. You can sign up for his newsletter and find more information about Jim and his books at https://jamesmjackson.com.

Point of Preference

I often say that I’m a literary omnivore—I’ll read almost anything. But, of course, even with tastes as broad as mine there are exceptions. There are biases. And we all have them, even if we don’t hold a single genre above all others.

I’ve been thinking about a specific preference of mine while reading Leigh Bardugo’s excellent Six of Crows. The story is told in a multi-point-of-view third person. Meaning, each chapter is told in the third but with a skew toward one character or another, and, in this case, the character’s name is at the top of each chapter.

Taken all together, Six of Crows has that sort of dramatic irony that is completely delicious. Yes, delicious. Because it’s “meaty” when we get so see so many sides at once. For example, this is exactly why the Game of Thrones books are so enticing—you are constantly getting another side of a very intricate story.

When it’s done well, multi-POV third can feel like a movie, because that’s sort of how it’s written—a collection of scenes from different view points that make a full and captivating story when combined.

Now, back to biases. I realized when I was reading this book that I almost never prefer books from third person that have a single point of view. Maybe this is bias from writing exactly that way when I was in newspapers. But most of the time, I just think, “Why not just write this in first person?” I feel like third person’s greatest benefit is the ability to have the reader see more than one side of the story. And if there’s one problem it’s that the voice can feel distant as compared to first person.

All that said, it’s not that I don’t like single-POV third person—in fact, if it’s done well, I won’t notice the distance and I’ll feel as close to the main character as if they were telling their story in the first person. (Shout out to my Pitch Wars mentees who have achieved this!)

Do you have a preferred POV? Is it different for writing as for reading or are they the same?