Understanding Point of View
Point of view (POV) is the eye and voice through which your book is told. It answers the question, “Whose story is this?” POV is one of your story’s most important strategic elements, and can dramatically impact the reader’s understanding of your book and their connection with it.
Let’s take a look at the different POVs in which you can write your story, and their distinct strengths and attributes.
First Person
“I was bored, at ease, drunk, and extremely tired, less than ten minutes away from home. I had outgrown everything around me. And that is where my memory goes black, where the reel cuts off.” —Know My Name, Chanel Miller
First person is when someone close to the action is narrating, be it the protagonist or a supporting character. It relies on pronouns such as “I,” “me,” and “we.” This POV is the second most common perspective to write from, and there are several reasons why.
Intimacy. First person gives readers the most direct line into a character’s consciousness and to the action. They also see all of the narrator’s thoughts, feelings, and knowledge, which makes this POV a truly immersive experience.
Urgency. Only knowing as much as the character does creates urgency and tension. There’s a reason why many thrillers and mysteries are written in first person. Suspense depends on limited information and the gradual untangling of conspiracies. With the controlled release of information inherent in this POV, each revelation will be a surprise for both character and reader.
Voice. A well-written first-person POV provides a unique and powerful voice that readers gravitate toward.
And the cons?
Limited knowledge. Readers are confined to the POV character’s perceptive abilities and their own perspective. Some characters are naturally more perceptive, but they cannot know others’ thoughts—unless told. This goes for larger plot events too: if something is happening while your character is imprisoned, they won’t know about it. Readers may feel confined when limited to just one perspective for hundreds of pages.
Bias. First person is the most subjective, and while that works for memoirs and some fiction, it should be avoided for most nonfiction, such as academia and research-based books that must remain objective. Even in fiction, ask yourself how reliable you want your narrator to be—the more reliable you want, the weaker the argument is for first person. Every first-person account is unreliable to a degree because of limited knowledge and biases.
Voice. Just as it is a pro, voice in first-person POV can also be a con. If the narrator has a weak or uninteresting voice, this POV is only going to highlight it and weaken the story.
Second Person
“You are she. She is you. You are Essun. Remember? The woman whose son is dead.” —The Fifth Season, N.K. Jemisin
Second person turns the reader into the protagonist by using pronouns such as “you” and “your.” It is more popular in nonfiction, especially self-help, and makes rare appearances in fiction. Here are some reasons to consider it:
Immediacy. Second person plunges readers into action by speaking directly to them. It also creates intimacy, but that intimacy is different than first person. This intimacy is more than shoulder rubbing, it’s spine-tingling closeness. It is intrusive. That character is you, which is both exciting and perplexing.
Authority. Second person is popular in self-help books because it gives the reader agency. They help readers learn what they can do for themselves. The same goes for Choose Your Own Adventure books, where the reader decides what happens and sees the tangible impact their choices have on the story.
Novelty. If you want your POV to stand out, there is no better way than to utilize second person (although that shouldn’t be the main reason). It can definitely catch an agent’s eye, but the POV must be executed perfectly to gain representation.
You’ll likely hear more warnings about this POV than any other. Here are a few common ones:
Difficulty to write. Authors must create a character that every reader can imagine inhabiting, otherwise they risk pulling readers out of the story. That becomes more difficult for a full-length novel, as the author must continue developing the character while also adhering to their realism. They cannot deviate so much that readers can no longer see themselves as the character, so authors may feel their creativity is stunted.
Difficulty to maintain disbelief. Writing in second person means asking the reader to suspend their disbelief. This is easier to do in third or first person because while the reader may be emotionally invested in the character, they are still removed from them in a significant way: they are not the character. In second-person POV, the reader has to be the character. The last thing any author wants is for readers to be pulled out of the story because they can no longer see themselves as the character.
Rarity. The majority of fiction readers are not used to reading second person, and might find it jarring and uncomfortable. It can also be an instant turn–off for agents, most of whom agree that second person is the hardest to do well and pitch. The story may not be enough, because even if the agent loves it, the POV could make it too difficult to sell.
Third Person
The most common POV, third person, is when the narration isn’t told from the perspective of anyone in the story themselves. The author is the narrator, using pronouns such as “he,” “she,” and “they,” and must choose between one of two camps: limited and omniscient.
Third-Person Limited
“The drive from Salina to Morgen was three hours, and for much of it, Emmett hadn’t said a word.” —The Lincoln Highway, Amor Towles
Third-person limited is just as it sounds: it limits the story to the perspective of one character. Sounds like first person, but there are two key distinctions:
Balance. This POV lets the reader build a rapport with the character without being trapped in their mind. The balance is struck between conveying the character’s thoughts and backing away. Zooming in and out lets the reader observe at a close range without constantly intruding. It also allows the author to compress time and fast-forward the plot by assuming a distant perspective.
Adaptability. Nearly all genres can be written from a third person limited perspective (other than certain nonfiction like memoirs). The allure of moving close and pulling away from the POV character as needed is an incredibly useful tool because almost everything—characters, setting, tension, themes—becomes sharper.
And the cons:
Deemphasized voice. If first person demands a truly unique voice, third person can get away with some weakness. This doesn’t mean the voice isn’t important. It is, but because the story is told from an outsider, the words are not those of the main character. That means the voice and tone of the story may not be the voice and tone with which the character speaks or sees the world.
Limited knowledge. Like first person, third-person limited can only provide the perception of events from one character, so there’s a natural limitation to what the reader can know at any time.
Third-Person Omniscient
“Jessica's hand went to Paul's shoulder, tightened there. For a heartbeat, fear pulsed through her palm. Then she had herself under control. What does she fear? Paul wondered.” —Dune, Frank Herbert
The omniscient narrator knows everything about the story and its characters. They can move from one character’s mind to the next without any break, move through time, and shed their own light on the plot. This POV also knows more than each character and can share that information with the reader.
Despite its popularity in the classics, third person omniscient is found more in nonfiction today. This is because most nonfiction authors are writing to teach, persuade, or inform, so it’s natural for them to adopt a perspective of “knowing everything.” Here are the pros:
Multiple angles. There is no character limitation—you can roam freely between all characters, and their emotions and thoughts. The reader is privy to knowledge the main character is not, which can create suspense and dramatic irony.
More information and backstory. More information can be divulged up front. Because the narrator is not limited, they can simply tell the reader what they need to know or zoom out to show the story’s world. This avoids any awkward scene constructions where characters are forced to explain the world’s workings to each other for the reader’s benefit.
And the cons:
Lack of clarity. The distance that can work in your favor can also hurt in terms of clarity. If authors spend too much time zoomed out and not enough time in the character’s thoughts and emotions, it won’t be clear whom readers should follow.
Missing connection. This POV naturally keeps characters distanced from the reader, which can prevent connection. The more distance you have (aka characters) will dilute the reader’s connection to each POV character, and they won’t know whom to focus on (having too many first-person POVs can cause the same problem). Remember the shopping rule: given too many options, people will choose none.
What Is Head-Hopping?
Head-hopping is the most common POV issue, and it happens when the author switches POVs within the same scene, without a clear marker. It occurs when the POV moves around to different characters’ perspectives without clear distinction, and it often feels very disorienting to readers.
There are several common ways we see head-hopping. We often find them in the overarching story POV, in omniscient narration, and in the alternation between multiple first person or third person POVs.
Overarching POV
Overarching POV is a primary character POV (first or third person) where readers see the story through a single lens. Head-hopping occurs here when the writer is too inconsistent: they jump from John’s POV to Jane’s POV to the POV of the grandpa at the park. This is fixed by getting rid of the extraneous POVs and sticking to the chosen one in all scenes.
James kissed her knuckles. He’d always loved her hands.
“I’m scared, Sof. I’m more than scared,” he said in a voice Sofia hardly recognized. He looked and felt like her husband, but she didn’t know him.
Did you feel the abruptness? This example is limited third person (James), but it bounces around. First we’re with James, thinking about how much he loves his wife, then we’re with Sofia, unhappy with her husband’s vulnerability without a clear indication that the POV was jumping ship.
Omniscient POV
Head-hopping is also easy to commit in an omniscient POV because the narrator will zoom into the experiences of certain characters, and that can feel like jumping from limited third person POVs. That is why the distance that this POV creates is a must; authors can’t stray too close to their characters, otherwise they run the risk of head-hopping.
Who else was there other than the judge, the victim, and his attacker? Their lawyers, of course, who were identical twins. And though there was not but a blemish to tell them apart, all one had to do was look at their faces to discern which was Lilith and which was Elvita.
Elvita had not said a word. How else could she respond but with silence to the accusations, what with their evidence? Best to stay quiet. But Lilith knew it too. Silence was a weapon, and she had to prevent it. How to beat silence? Talking. Sooner or later, she thought, the judge would make Elvita speak, and it would all be over.
This example shows how the omniscient narrator sets the scene: a courthouse in session. But it quickly zooms into both sisters and gets into each of their heads, telling readers what they are thinking without any marker. That’s what makes it feel like head-hopping even though the perspective is omniscient.
Alternating POVs
The third most common head-hopping mistake happens when a novel has alternating POV characters. Take Game of Thrones for example. It is well-known for having an enormous cast of POV characters, all in third-person limited. But remember that the transitions between each POV must be strategic. Head-hopping happens when a change occurs without a marker, so these POV switches must be distinct. That might look like transition chapters. Chapter 1: Tyrion. Chapter 2: Jon. Chapter 3: Eddard. Another way is to transition between scenes with a line break.
Joanna saw the bus approach and got up from the table, coffee in hand.
Then, after a line break, the POV can change.
David watched her leave, savoring the bitter taste of his own coffee.
Whatever the markers are, they must be clear to readers to avoid the feeling of head-hopping.
Head-hopping is bad for several reasons: it’s confusing, often serves no purpose to the reader, and disjoints the story. Jumping around creates whiplash, and readers will get tired constantly trying to keep up. Keep in mind, too, that authors must have a good reason for switching POVs. Too many do it because they can, not because their story demands it. Remember when readers see a switch, they expect the why to become clear. What is revealed that could only have been revealed through this POV? Head-hopping can also break a scene into too many pieces and can make the story feel as if it’s falling apart instead of coming together.
Head-hopping can be resolved by firmly anchoring the reader into the POV in whichever scene or chapter it is written. How the reader is anchored is up to the author, but the most important thing is that these POV changes should always be clear from the narration.
Choosing the Right POV for Your Story
Which POV is right for you? To answer, you must experiment.
Rewrite your opening chapter in the different POVs. Certain writing tips advise authors to ask themselves questions to narrow down the right POV—such as the distance between reader and narrator—but we recommend writing the POVs anyway. An author might dismiss a POV because it doesn’t sound good to them, but that doesn’t always translate to what it'll be like on the page. Never refuse a POV based on personal taste. You may be robbing your story of its perfect perspective.
After you’ve written the POVs, read each one—slowly.
Which one feels most natural?
Which one tells the story best?
Which one has the most compelling narrative voice?
What are readers getting out of each POV that is unique to that perspective?
Then you can ask those recommended questions. Consider the distance between reader and narrator. Think about how much information is revealed. How reliable is the narrator? If you want, enlist others for help. Get feedback from beta readers, critique partners, or writing groups.
There is also no rule that says the whole book must be in the same POV. You’ll find multi-POV books in all genres, though more in speculative fiction, historical fiction, and fantasy because of longer time periods. But every switch demands mental energy from the reader. So, as a rule of thumb, stick to between two to five POVs maximum, if your story requires multiple POVs. To narrow down your POVs, you can also assess whether your story larger than any one character. What would adding POVs allow you to do, and how would it affect the release of information?
Finding your POV is a process. It will take time, but it will be worth it once you find the one that makes your story shine.