Non-Sequitur? by Nancy L. Eady

The local junior college is only a mile or two from my house, and I often drive by it. It has a well-manicured campus, with walking trails and lush green lawns, and a mid-sized pond tucked towards the back, at the bottom of a hill, a few yards away from a thick copse of pine trees. My favorite part of the pond is the small flock of grey, white and black geese, and the one ugly duck that hangs with them. 

"My" geese look like this: 

 Their ugly duck friend looks similar to this picture. 

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I don’t like white geese very much. The wild geese I see around ponds tend to leave people alone, but white geese can be vicious. Growing up, my family lived in Taiwan for a couple of years. To get to the adjoining neighborhood where some of my friends lived, I had to cut through a little village, made of huts, guarded by geese. I was only in fourth grade. They scared me to death, hissing and chasing me. In what I will always remember as a genuine act of kindness, an older woman who lived in the village stopped me one day and handed me a stick. Even though we didn’t speak each other’s language, she was able to show me how to use the stick to ward off the geese. I still was terrified of them.

But “my” local geese calmly trek from the copse of trees to the pond and back without bothering anyone. When the weather is bad—wet or terribly hot—they are hunkered down in their nests out of sight. When the weather is fair, you can find them hanging around or in the pond. Not only are “my” geese friendly; they are also picturesque. 

I tried to imagine what they might talk about around their geese campfires in the woods when the weather keeps them out of the pond. Maybe they tell stories about their ancestors, who would fly thousands of miles from somewhere up North to somewhere in the far South, until one brave ancestor finally said, “Enough! The land here is gracious, the weather relatively mild, and I’m sick of flying all the time.” And then perhaps they share stories about the other brave ancestors who carved out a place for them in their home pond and the copse of woods. 

While I’m not sure how the geese view stories, story-telling is an important part of being human. Our minds frame most of what we do as a story. Stories are how we explain to others who we are and how we see things. The problem with the stories we tell about ourselves is that they are told from only one point of view—the individual’s. Sitting in a crowded restaurant on a Friday night having dinner with my husband, I will have one story about the evening, while my husband will have a different one. 

And that’s why what we do as writers is so important. When we spin our tales, we aren’t telling the story from our point of view. We get inside other people’s heads and show our readers what it’s like to be our main character for a little while, to experience their sorrows and joys and points of view. Whether our work is a gritty detective crime story from 1950s LA or a cozy mystery set on the Georgia coast, it gives the reader a little taste of what it might be like to be someone else, for just a little while, broadening their horizons.

Do you have a favorite character in your writing repertoire whose stories you enjoy sharing with others? 

 

Different Words by Nancy L. Eady

On Monday, I wrote my blog post on “Point of View.” Originally, because I was using photographs to illustrate the idea, I wanted to call the post “Frame of Reference.” I considered the two phrases to be synonymous. But since I never like to take such things for granted, I googled the phrases and found out that the concepts are related, but different. 

According to Google, “frame of reference” in writing is the context and background that shapes a character’s understanding and interpretation of events. Something I think about every Fourth of July is fireworks. Here in the United States, the “boom” of fireworks, especially when cannons are included as part of an orchestral rendition of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture, heralds a spectacular display we enjoy watching. Someone from a country or region where internecine warfare occurs on a regular basis probably reacts quite differently to the same sounds. 

The difference between the two is their “frame of reference.” “Point of view” is the perspective from which a story is told. If an American heard the sounds of a fireworks show in the distance, their memories and story about the sounds they are hearing will be very different than those of a person newly arrived from Ukraine who has been suffering constant battles since 2022. 

The close relation between the two terms stirred my inner word geekiness, and I thought of two series of single words where each word is similar, but different. The first set of words deals with groups of trees. I think of “woods” as a pleasant stand of trees with paths ambling through it, for example, Robert Frost’s “yellow wood.” A “forest” is still a group of trees, but it is a more extensive and wilder grouping. I had to return to Google to see if there is a difference between “jungle” and “rainforest.” At least according to the web page of the Mashdi Lodge in Ecuador, a jungle, while still a group of trees, has thicker undergrowth and more chaotic plant life than a rainforest. A rainforest has a “complex, layered flora structure and diverse fauna.” I think it might be enchanting to see a rainforest, at least a suitably tamed section of one, but a jungle would be more challenging. 

The second set of words deals with flattish patches of land, which include meadows, plains, prairies, veldts and savannas. I have a clear picture in my mind of an upland meadow, a rich green patch of land ringed with mountains and dotted with wildflowers. Since this meadow lives only in my imagination, it is bug free, with the exception of the butterflies that roam around. 

I think of plains and prairie interchangeably in connection with the Midwest and West before taming, when herds of buffaloes a million strong roamed freely on them. If I were to be precise, however, a prairie is a specific type of plain.  Or then again, maybe not. According to a presentation in 2012 by a professor at Hunter College, a plain is a “topographic term signifying expansive and relatively flat land.” “Prairie,” however, is defined as “a vegetation that refers to a variety of grasses.” Because most of America’s Great Plains were covered with prairie, the vegetation, they started to be called prairie, the place. 

Google’s dictionary, which is powered by Oxford Languages, defines a “veldt” as “open, uncultivated country or grassland in southern Africa.” Flippantly, I’d say that it sounds like South Africa’s version of America’s prairies, but perhaps I am mistaken. “Savanna,” also spelled “savannah,” is a marriage of plains and woods per Wikipedia. Wikipedia’s official entry states that “a savanna … is a mixed woodland-grassland (i.e. grassy woodland) biome and ecosystem characterized by the trees being sufficiently widely spaced so that the canopy does not close. The open canopy allows sufficient light to reach the ground to support an unbroken herbaceous layer consisting primarily of grasses.”

If you’re looking for a point to this post or a grand ending tying everything together, there isn’t one. But I am curious to know if there are word groupings that interest you, or am I the only word geek here? 

Point of View by Nancy L. Eady

In writing, “point of view” (POV) describes both the manner in which a story is told and the choice of voice for telling the story. For example, first person POV involves the protagonist telling the story either in past or present tense. If a writer wants to tell the story in first person POV from different perspectives, they can choose to have more than one narrator. The effect of POV on the story is profound; it affects what information is available to the character and thus the reader and it affects the frame of reference in which the story is taught. For example, no one thinks of themself as a villain; we all believe we are the heroes of our own story. So, the tale of Snow White from the perspective of the wicked queen is very different from the tale the woodcutter or the prince or Snow White herself would tell. 

Oddly enough, I have found a way to illustrate the effect of POV through pictures.

This picture is both striking and unusual. I didn’t notice this pattern when I bought the object that contains it. 

Backing out, you can now see that the first picture is part of a flower. 

Now you can see that the purple flower is one of several in a flower arrangement on a wooden table. 

And because I don’t want to be accused of false advertising vis-à-vis the true state of my house and my housekeeping, you can now see that the flower arrangement looks rather ordinary sitting on a cluttered kitchen table. 

You can see the same process in reverse with my calla lily bush.

Here, you see my calla lily bush in its place along the side of the house, droopy front blooms and all, coupled with the irises, who are drying out due to the time of year.

This close up of the top three blooms makes the bush look better.

This picture of just one of the younger calla lily blooms gives the impression of an even fuller, lusher bush than is really there.

And in this close up of two of the older blooms in the late afternoon, the afternoon sun makes them luminous and magical. 

As you can see, the POV in each of these pictures tells a very different story. In what ways have you used POV in your storytelling to delight and surprise the reader? 

Voice by Nancy L. Eady

Remember how I told you a while ago that I would be writing a short story from a golden retriever’s point of view? Alas, that will not happen. I can’t figure out how to explain that the golden retriever can converse with the cat and the parrot without the three making an ungodly amount of noise that would cause any normal pet owner to kick them out of the house. Nor can I decide how smart (or snarky) the animals will be. And if the animals understand each other, how realistic would it be for them also to understand humans when they are speaking? I’ve had several dogs over the years, and while I know each of them understood some things, each dog’s intelligence was different. Some were limited to words like “out”, “go”, “food” and “sit,” while there were others you could converse with. And how much would a cat or a parrot understand? 

A golden retriever wouldn’t be snarky? Would she? Most goldens I know of are simply dying to be told what good dogs they are. Unless chewing is involved – then they don’t care whether they’re good dogs or not. And potato chips. I’ve never yet known a dog that didn’t lose his or her mind over potato chips. Our first dog was a labrador retriever/cocker spaniel mix. She had snarky down pat. She used to gaze lovingly at my husband when he was eating a snack and looking at her. As soon as he looked away, her face would turn grumpy and you could hear her thinking, “Yeah, yeah, big man with the opposable thumb holding out on the little doggie.” You also would see her switch immediately back to “I love you!” as soon as he looked back at her. But, as I said, she was not a golden retriever.

Now a cat, I can see being snarky. Never having owned one, I am not comfortable even imagining the story from the cat’s point of view. African grey parrots, I understand, may come with a sense of humor, but I know less about them than I do about cats. 

So, alas, my story is now being told not from the point of view of the animals, but rather from the owner’s. At least the animals are still part of the story. Life without a pet or pets would be rather sad.  

What is the most complicated “voice” you have tried to use while writing?

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?

* * * 

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?