POV: Three's a Crowd!

Point of View is something that besets and often bedevils many writers. It took me ages to work out the nuts and bolts of this technique. However, I could not explain it to anyone in terms that they would understand. Luckily for writers out there, here's an excellent article by Randy Ingermanson, and all is revealed.

Is Headhopping A Sin?

 Every so often, the issue of "headhopping" comes up among writers, and the fur soon begins flying. It came up recently in a circle of novelists I belong to. Some writers insist that there is no sin more vile than headhopping, except possibly teaching the cat how to smoke. Other writers claim that headhopping is an acceptable practice in romance, where many readers like it and a few editors even insist on it.

Is headhopping a sin? If it's so horrible, then why does Joe Bigname Author hop heads like crazy? Is headhopping just another "gotcha" invented by writing teachers to put newbie writers in knots? Isn't headhopping just the same thing as the omniscient viewpoint?

First things first -- we need to define "headhopping."

To do that, let's review the main alternatives. The two most common points of view in fiction are first-person and third-person.



1st and 3rd person POV

• In first-person POV, the author writes as if she is one of the characters, using the pronouns "I" and "me" to refer to that character. When you write in first-person, you put your reader firmly inside the head of that one character and it would be unnatural to get out.
• In third-person POV (the most common POV these days), the author chooses one particular character in each scene to be the viewpoint character. The author uses the pronouns "he" and "him" or else "she" and "her" to refer to that character.

When you write in third-person correctly, you put your reader firmly inside the head of that one character. You show only what that character can see, hear, touch, taste, smell, or feel. Nothing more. So third-person is very much like first-person, except for the pronouns you use.

Either first-person or third-person puts your reader on intimate terms with the viewpoint character for the course of any given scene. This makes it easy to give your reader a Powerful Emotional Experience, which I believe is the main goal of writing fiction.

Now of course it's possible that a writer will do a bad job of writing either first-person or third-person, which means that the reader will have no Powerful Emotional Experience. But tens of thousands of professional novelists use these viewpoints effectively because they work.



Two or more POV

 Now we can define headhopping. Headhopping is like third-person, except that the author uses two or more viewpoint characters within a single scene. In headhopping, you put your reader firmly inside the head of one character for a while and then hop into another character's head for a while.

Let's look at those questions we raised at the beginning of this article:

Is headhopping OK?

My own opinion is that it's OK to do this IF you do it well. But it isn't easy to do it well, for two reasons.

• First, those pesky transitions from one head to another are hard to get right. If you confuse the reader, then that's a speed bump in the reading experience and that's bad.

• Second, even if you do the transitions well, doing them too often will make your reader feel jerked around.

 Why does Joe Bigname Author use headhopping in his novel?

Good question. Some authors actually don't know any better (and neither do some editors). Some authors know that headhopping is risky but do it anyway because they believe they can do it well and the rewards are worth the risks.

Is headhopping just an invention of selfish writing teachers who want to earn more money by putting up more roadblocks for new writers?



Three's a crowd!

Not that I can tell. Headhopping is hard to do well, and very often it just plain doesn't work. Headhopping by novice writers almost always doesn't work. Writing teachers spend most of their time working with novice writers, so they spend a lot of time telling them not to hop heads.

Is headhopping exactly the same thing as the omniscient viewpoint that was used so successfully by the great 19th century writers?

In my opinion, no. I believe that omniscient viewpoint means that the narrator is actually omniscient and can know things that NONE of the characters know. I am tempted to say that all right-thinking people must agree with me, but I know at least one writing teacher who believes that headhopping is the same thing as omniscient.

I'm afraid that rational discussion will never settle this argument. However, kicking, biting, scratching, and hair-pulling might, so I have hope that someday all writers will agree with me on this point.

Let's fight about it!

So should you hop heads? Will you suffer eternal torment if you indulge in the forbidden fruit of headhopping? My own opinion is that if you're a new writer, then it's best to avoid headhopping, for two reasons:

• Headhopping requires that you master third person viewpoint AND that you master transitions from one head to the next. It's easier to master one skill than two.
• Some editors will reject you outright for headhopping.

 Once you've learned to write third-person Xtremely well, then you'll have the skills to try hopping heads when you have a scene where you believe it makes sense.

At the very least, if you're going to hop heads, you should be aware that you're doing it, you should have a reason to do so, and you should make it work.

The goal in writing fiction is to give your reader a Powerful Emotional Experience. Do whatever it takes to do that.

Award-winning novelist Randy Ingermanson, "the Snowflake Guy," publishes the free monthly Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine, with more than 32,000 readers. If you want to learn the craft and marketing of fiction, AND make your writing more valuable to editors, AND have FUN doing it, visit http://www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com Download your free Special Report on Tiger Marketing and get a free 5-Day Course in How To Publish a Novel.

Randy Ingermanson Publisher, Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine http://www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com/ezine

The Magic of White Space

Have you ever wondered why some books are such a mission to read, and others ...well, you literally fly through the story, swept along by a great plot and gripping elements. The answer is quite simple and who better to explain why than Randy Ingermanson, who offers loads of simple writing advice.

Creating White Space Magic

One of the most common mistakes I see when I critique manuscripts is that the paragraphs are too long. When I see a dense page of text that has only three or four paragraphs, I suspect the pace is going to be slow and the writing is going to be boring. When I see a page with a lot of white space, I suspect the pace is going to be fast and the writing is going to have a lot of conflict.

Part of this is just a psychological illusion.

When someone is reading a scene with a lot of white space, their eyes zip rapidly down the page.

Before they know it, they're  flipping the page, and then the next, and the next.

White space makes your reader feel like they're flying.

As I said, this is a psychological trick, and by itself it doesn't mean very much. Pace is about more than reading pages rapidly. Pace is about the amount of conflict coming at the reader on each page.

Fiction thrives on conflict.

Don't confuse conflict with mere physical action. Conflict is about trading punches, but most often those punches are verbal or psychological, not physical.

Conflict is a lawyer cross-examining a lying witness. Conflict is a woman trying to get her man to tell her what he's really feeling. Conflict is a baseball player stepping up to the plate with the tying run on third and facing the league's toughest pitcher in the final inning of the World Series.

Conflict is about back-and-forth.

You get the least conflict per page when you use a lot of description, narrative summary, and exposition. All of these tend to use long paragraphs that focus on a single thing.

You get the most conflict per page when you have a lot of action and dialogue and when you alternate rapidly between characters. Doing that will naturally give you a lot of short, punchy paragraphs.

The more paragraphs you have, the more white space on the page.

This isn't complicated, so I'm not going to belabor it. White space is magic, not because it CAUSES good writing but because it's an EFFECT of good writing.

If you've got a scene that your critiques are telling you is slow and boring, take a look at how much white space you've got. You probably need more.

Look for every paragraph longer than five lines. Can you break it up? It probably has some description or long explanation or something else that you're certain your reader can't live without. Kill it. Get rid of it. Be a brute.

Here is where you protest that you can't do that—your reader will hate you forever for cutting out that long horrible explanation about the history of mildew. Fine, if it's that important, then cut it down to three lines. But you know in your lying little heart that it's not that important. It may be that the paragraph has no description or explanation at all. In fact, you may believe it's packed with action. The tiger and the vampire are locked in a wrestling match to the death. But if that paragraph is longer than five lines, you're probably using narrative summary. You're telling your reader about the fight, rather than showing the fight.

If a fight is worth having in your story, it's worth showing, punch by punch, snarl by snarl, bite by bite. Break up that long paragraph into a sequence of actions and reactions. One paragraph for the vampire, one for the tiger, back and forth, until you have a victor. When you do that, you'll naturally produce a lot of white space. Your eyes will tell you when you've done enough.

It's possible to go too far, of course. You don't want to have an entire novel of one-line paragraphs. White space is wonderful, but there can be too much of a good thing. I've seen two writers who used too much white space. Oddly enough, both of them are best-selling authors. I've never seen a bad writer use too much white space.

If too much white space is your problem, there's an easy fix for it. Just add in some interior monologue, some sensory description, and even an occasional bit of exposition to fatten up a few paragraphs.

White space is magic. White space is power. You know the drill. Great power, great responsibility.

Use it well.

This article is reprinted by permission of the author. Award-winning novelist Randy Ingermanson, "the Snowflake Guy," publishes the free monthly Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine, with more than 31,000 readers. If you want to learn the craft and marketing of fiction, AND make your writing more valuable to editors, AND have FUN doing it, visit his site. Download your free Special Report on Tiger Marketing and get a free 5-Day Course in How To Publish a Novel.

More Writing Tips From Downton Abbey

I confess I am a Downton Abbey junkie. I love the series and I've watched Seasons 1 and 2 several times already on DVD. I can't wait for Seasons 3 and 4 and 5...  I never really thought about why the characters captivated me so much until I read an article by Randy Ingermanson that hits the nail right on the head. And that nail is something every writer should seek to achieve. By giving your characters a goal, a desire, or a burning ambition, something they will strive to achieve, through thick and thin, come hell or high water, you'll create the type of conflict and depth of character that will keep your readers glued to the page (or in this case, the screen!). Randy says it so much better so here is his article. NB: this article may contain spoilers for people who have been living in a cave and have not yet heard of Downton Abbey!

Why Downton Abbey Rocks

Downton Abbey is the outrageously popular TV series set in the home of an aristocratic British family during the years 1912 through 1920. On the face of it, the show's popularity makes no sense. 1912? What was happening in 1912? Oh yeah, the Titanic, but what else? Why is Downton Abbey getting such incredible reviews? Why has it won six Emmy Awards and a Golden Globe? Why has it become the best-selling DVD box set on Amazon?

In a word, it's story. Downton Abbey is packed full of story. And what does "story" mean, precisely? Story is characters in conflict. Characters with impossible dreams. Characters willing to do anything to reach their dreams. Let's look at the characters of Downton Abbey and their impossible dreams.



Edith, Mary and Sybil.

Lady Mary Crawley is young and beautiful, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham. As the story begins, her fiancé has just died on the Titanic. Mary's problem is that she doesn't have a problem with that. She didn't much love the guy, even though she was engaged to him. Why would any girl agree to marry a guy she didn't love? Simple. She was pushed into it. Mary is the oldest of three daughters, but there aren't any sons in the Crawley family. Unfortunately, the estate and the title and most of the family money have been "entailed," meaning that they will be inherited by the nearest male relative, not by Mary.

This is massively unfair, but the family has hoped to make it less unfair by pushing Mary into marrying the heir. Mary has gone along with this, until now. Not happily, but she's gone along. Now the heir is dead and Mary doesn't feel sad about him. The only thing she feels sad about is that she doesn't feel sad. Something is deeply wrong with Mary. She knows what it is. She has no purpose in life. As the story begins, her main purpose is to find her purpose. Mary wants to make her own decisions in life. And that's impossible. Women in her position don't make decisions. They have their decisions made for them. With the loss of her unwanted fiancé, something snaps in Mary. From now on, she isn't going to have decisions foisted upon her. She's going to make her own decisions. If the only decisions Mary has power to make are bad ones, then by heavens, she'll make horrible, wretched, idiotic decisions. But she will choose her own way in life. She will. Starting now.

The news of the Titanic arrives on the same day that the new valet, John Bates, arrives to begin his duties. Bates is an old Army friend of Lord Grantham, and lately some shrapnel has shifted in his knee, giving him a serious limp. But nobody knows about his injury until he arrives to begin work. Unfortunately, Downton Abbey has zillions of stairs and no elevators. How can Bates manage his duties when he can't carry things even on level ground? Will Lord Grantham have to get rid of his new valet? Bates is one of the show's most likable characters. He never complains. Never feels sorry for himself. Never tells anyone about the failings of the other servants. He's honest and kind and decent. All he wants is to have a job, and that is apparently the one thing he's going to be denied.

Bates has a rival. The head footman, Thomas, is young, strong, and handsome, and he wants the job of valet. Thomas has a massive chip on his shoulder because he's "different" -- which is his term for the fact that he's gay. In 1912, that's a serious problem. Thomas will do whatever it takes to get the job of valet, and if he has to lie and cheat to get Bates removed, no problem. But whether he gets the job or not, Thomas will never be happy. Because he's "different."



Lady Cora

 Mary's mother is Cora, originally from an American family, now a middle-aged English aristocrat. Cora desperately wants to get her three daughters married off well to nice men. Now that the heir is dead, it's time to reopen the question of that wretched entail. Why can't it be broken? Cora repeatedly asks her husband to get the family lawyer to break the entail. And he repeatedly refuses, claiming that it can't be done. Cora strikes up an alliance with her mother-in-law, Violet, who also thinks that the best course is to break the entail.

Violet is an acid-tongued old woman who gets most of the funniest lines of dialogue in the series. Violet wants the same thing Cora wants—to get the daughters married off, and most especially to see Mary keep the family fortune. But neither Violet nor Cora can persuade Lord Grantham to try to break the entail. Why won't Lord Grantham at least try? He certainly loves his daughter Mary, and wants to see her married well and prosperous. But breaking the entail would probably not succeed, he's convinced. Mary might get the money, but never the estate. Lord Grantham has poured his entire life into maintaining the estate. He married Cora for her money because it would enable him to keep the estate. Now how can he separate the estate from the money? The estate would die, and he can't tolerate that.



Lord Grantham

 For Lord Grantham, the solution is simple. Let Mary marry the new heir. That would be young Matthew Crawley, a third cousin once removed. He's a handsome guy, although (gack) he's a lawyer. But even lawyers can often be trained. Lord Grantham's plan is to train young Matthew to be the new Earl. And to convince Mary to marry him. Why won't Mary do what she's told? It's the obviously right thing. Lord Grantham loves Mary, but she can be so infuriating sometimes. Matthew's certainly a nice guy, handsome, kind, honest. If Mary didn't feel forced to marry him, she'd probably be interested. But Mary's a stubborn cuss, and she won't be pushed. So Matthew has no chance, even before she meets him. Matthew has no chance, even though he falls in love with her on sight. Matthew would do anything to convince her to marry him. But nothing is enough. He can't have her, plain and simple.

There's enough so far to make a movie, but not a TV series. There has to be more, much more. And there is. Practically every other character has something they desperately want—and can't have. Edith, the homely second daughter of Lord and Lady Grantham, would love to have a husband. But every time she sets her cap for a man, her beautiful older sister Mary steps in and flirts with him. Edith has no chance for a man and she hates Mary. She'd do anything to ruin Mary's life. Anything.

Sybil, the youngest daughter, is interested in politics and women's rights. But what chance does she have to do anything that matters? She's been educated by a governess, which means she's learned nothing. She can't do anything, because it's not ALLOWED, and that drives her crazy.

Anna, the head housemaid, is a thirty-something woman, not quite pretty, not quite plain. She's sweet and kind and she's naturally attracted to the new valet, Mr. Bates. But Bates has some dark secrets in his past, things he can't talk about. Anna knows instinctively that Bates is protecting somebody. But Mr. Bates won't talk about it, and until he does, Anna's love is going unrequited.

Cora's maid, Sarah O'Brien, is a bitter woman who secretly despises her employers but adopts a fawning attitude when they're around. She's in league with Thomas to make life miserable for Mr. Bates, and incidentally Anna. For no good reason. It's not clear what drives O'Brien, but her goal is clear -- to make everyone else miserable. She's extremely good at that.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, is a quiet soul, but she secretly wonders what her life would have been like if she'd married the farmer who asked her many years ago. But she'll never know, will she? Unless. she gets a second chance at love. Will she get that chance? Would she take it?

Mr. Carson

The butler, Mr. Carson, runs the household and supervises all the other servants. It's a constant challenge. Mr. Bates can't carry. Thomas is a conniving SOB, but you can't pin anything on him. O'Brien is cruel and arrogant to the servants, but she's always sweetness and light around her employers, so there's no getting rid of her. Mr. Carson feels that the honour of Downton Abbey rests on his shoulders. It's a heavy responsibility. Carson desperately wants to maintain tradition, but that's impossible. The world is changing and soon it's going to be unrecognizable. Butlers should have no favorites, but Carson loves Mary like his own daughter and he'd do anything to see her happily married. Mr. Carson has a secret from his past, and it would kill him if anyone knew. But the only person who knows his secret lives far away. For the moment.

There's more, of course. I've left out a few major characters and all the minor characters. But I've covered enough to make it clear what drives Downton Abbey. Here is the secret that will drive your own fiction to success, if you let it: Every character in Downton Abbey behaves as if he or she were the hero of the story. Each one desperately wants something. Something he can't have. Something she will do almost anything to get. When you write your novel, it's tempting to bring in characters solely to serve the story of your protagonist. Characters who are there merely to play the role of Sidekick or Villain or Love Interest or Humorous Relief or whatever. Characters without their own hopes and dreams. That is the road to second-rate fiction.

Give each character a dream. Preferably an impossible dream. Something your character will do anything to get. When a person will do anything to get what they want, then anything can happen. That's why Downton Abbey rocks. That's what will make your story rock too.

This article is reprinted by permission of the author. Award-winning novelist Randy Ingermanson, "the Snowflake Guy," publishes the free monthly Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine, with more than 30,000 readers. If you want to learn the craft and marketing of fiction, AND make your writing more valuable to editors, AND have FUN doing it, visit  http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/ Download your free Special Report on Tiger Marketing and get a free 5-Day Course in How To Publish a Novel.