by K L Going
Most of the time someone will mark the letters POV in the margin of your manuscript, meaning you should check to make sure you haven't made a mistake and your point of view remains consistent, but there is one occasion when you're allowed to jump back and forth between characters without any clear delineation between these sections. This is when you're using the omniscient point of view.
According to the New Oxford American Dictionary, the word omniscient means "knowing everything; having very extensive knowledge." If you get confused about what qualifies as the omniscient voice, go back to the meaning of the word. When you use the omniscient point of view, your narrator knows, well. . . everything. She can tell you what every character in the book is thinking and doing even when those characters are in separate places. Omniscient point of view has also been described as being "godlike" because the narrator sees all that's going on and can offer knowing commentary on events.
If I were using the omniscient point of view with the passage above, I could use the same text from version four, but I might tack on something like this afterwards:
What Jeff didn't see was Charlie, hidden beneath the stairwell. Charlie who'd been watching him for weeks now, waiting for this exact moment. For Charlie, this day was far from his worst day ever—it was his best day, golden with potential.
Charlie knew he should keep quiet, but he couldn't help it. He laughed out loud, then stopped and licked his lips. Revenge was sweet.
See how our perspective has expanded? Using the omniscient point of view we could expand it even further. How about adding this twist to the plot:
Of course, neither one of them could have anticipated how trivial their argument was soon to become. Charlie never would have expected to be out-villained by a girl, and Jeff, well Jeff would never know what hit him.
See how the narrator knows everything, even when the characters in question only have limited knowledge of what is happening? The omniscient narrator is not confined to one character's view point, therefore she can move easily between as many characters as necessary.
This is a very difficult point of view to use well. There's a reason we so seldom see the truly omniscient narrator in literature, and that's because the story can become muddled and the reader might fail to care about any of the characters when his allegiance is spread so thin. In the above example, who are you rooting for? Jeff? Charlie? The unnamed female? Obviously, this might become clearer as the backstory and plot are revealed, but the danger is that you won't end up rooting for anyone, and you'll find it easy to walk away from the book.
This is certainly not always the case. Robert Cormier used the third-person omniscient narrative voice beautifully in The Chocolate War; which I quoted earlier. Cormier uses it to add complexity and suspense to the story as each character's fate is drawn into question. The omniscient point of view can work well for suspense because the narrator can hint at trouble ahead that the characters themselves might still be unaware of.
Another book popular with teens that uses the omniscient point of view successfully is Douglas Adams's The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. In this book the omniscient voice adds to the humor as the narrator jumps from the viewpoints of his characters—Arthur Dent, a muddled human being dragged into an adventure he wishes he wasn't having, Ford Prefect, an alien who was stranded on Earth for fifteen years posing as an out-of-work actor, and the various creatures they encounter, all of whom have strong opinions about Arthur, Ford, and earthlings in general. The omniscient point of view gives the author a perfect platform to comment on human behavior, and it adds to the humor of the book.
One final example of an author who uses the omniscient point of view is Paul Fleischman, who does so beautifully in his book Breakout. Fleischman adds his own unique twist by telling the story in chapters that alternate between a strict third-person narrative telling the story of teenage Del, a girl running away from her foster parents who gets stuck in a traffic jam as she's trying to escape, and a first-person omniscient narrator where a grown-up Del, also stuck in a traffic jam, imagines herself floating up out of her car, able to look into all the other cars and lives on the freeway.
It's important to note that even in a book as complex and varied as Breakout, the author is consistent within each section. When he writes in third person, the teenage Del must guess what other passengers stuck beside her are thinking. She knows only what those passengers tell her about their lives. When he writes in the first-person omniscient voice, he does not lapse into third-person narrative or suddenly switch narrators so we hear a different voice speaking to us.
Consistency is key when it comes to point of view. Decide whose eyes you are looking through, then stick with them.
SECOND-PERSON POINT OF VIEW_
There's one last point of view we haven't discussed yet. Second-per-son point of view raises the question, "What if the eyes you're looking through are your own?" Not you as the storyteller, but you as the character? In second person, the reader is also the protagonist.
Here's how the passage we've been discussing would look rewritten into second person: Version five:
You walk down the hall, feeling good about the day. It's one of the first spring days and you've just found out you made the track team. You open your locker, reaching for your math book, and a note falls onto your sneaker. You pick it up. The paper is torn and crumpled as if someone had trouble fitting it through the slots.
"What's this?" you wonder out loud.
Then your blood runs cold.
I know all your secrets.
The words are scrawled across the page. Can they possibly mean what you think they mean? You look around wildly, but no one else is there. The hall is empty. Eerily silent.
Your stomach turns and suddenly you know the truth. Life will never be the same again.
This type of narration has been used successfully in the suspense/ thriller genre, and it works well for shorter passages, but it's difficult to sustain in part because of the repetition of the word "you," which has the same effect of calling someone by his name over and over again. It's also hard for the reader to suspend her disbelief since clearly she knows that she isn't the person you're describing and these events did not happen to her. As she reads your story, she might very well be thinking, "I would never do that!"
However, even second person can be used successfully. Author A.M. Jenkins used second-person point of view in her novel Damage about a high school football star suffering from depression. The use of second person echoes the emotional distance that the character is feeling and enables teens to relate to his mental state in a way they might not be able to if the author had chosen a different point of view.
Second person requires a lot of effort from your reader, and it demands even more work from you. If you decide to tackle this point of view, make sure you re ready to put in long hours making sure the words you use are good enough to overcome the barriers that second-person point of view puts in place between your reader and the suspension of disbelief. It can be accomplished to great effect, but choose wisely!
FINAL THOUGHTS ON NARRATIVE
VOICE AND POINT OF VIEW_
Choosing which point of view to use can be difficult, but it will always be necessary since every story uses narrative voice and point of view. No exceptions. If you're writing a novel, someone is telling
the story, even if that someone is you. Remember, the keys to using both effectively are:
• choices
• consistency
• finesse
Right from the start you must ask yourself what kind of story you're telling and what kind of tone you'd like to create. Do you want your narration to sound confessional? Contemporary? Then try first person, past or present tense. Is the setting an important part of the book, creating a strong mood that pervades the novel? Give third person a try. Do you need to portray broad, panoramic events that equally involve many characters? Experiment with the omniscient point of view.
Whichever
choices you initially make, don't be afraid to abandon a point of view and start over using something else, even if you're far into the writing process. I once rewrote an entire novel from third person to first person after the first draft was complete! It was a time-consuming and tedious endeavor, but I had to make the choice that was best for my book. Sometimes what's best doesn't become clear until far into the process. When I was finished, I had a stronger book with a character who was more relatable than before.
No matter what, be consistent with the choices you make. Third person might have been the wrong choice for that novel, but I used it consistently throughout, and when I changed the book into first person, I was consistent with that, too. I didn't allow myself to write one section in third person and then slip into the character's own voice to tell about something else. Switching points of view breaks the spell of the novel, confusing the reader and drawing attention to the mechanics of writing.
This brings us to finesse. Finesse is what a magician has that allows us to be mesmerized, taken in by every trick he performs. We don't see the mechanics of the trick, we see the illusion. Writers are magicians of the page. We use our words to create a world that the reader immerses herself in while she reads. Anything that detracts from this experience should be eliminated. You want your narrative voice to be strong, compelling, and real. This means that you not only shouldn't shift perspectives or move back and forth between past, present, and future tense without clear delineation, but you must also make your narrative voice as true to life as any voice the reader hears around him, while simultaneously maintaining the smooth flow of the text.
Challenging? Certainly, but it's a great challenge and I know you're ready. It's the kind of challenge that elevates good writing to great writing, entertainment to art. Narrative voice combines every aspect of what we've learned so far about characters, plot, and setting, plus it uses everything you'll learn next period in science class as we delve into the world of editing. It's a fundamental building block for every novel, and I guarantee the more you practice, the better you'll get at making the best choices and employing them with the most skill. So even though we're ready to move on to your next class, keep narrative voice in mind as we delve into the editing process.
If science can, in part, be defined as "an expert's skillful technique" (according to the New Oxford, American Dictionary), editing absolutely qualifies as a science. Many people think of editing merely as the correction of bad grammar, but in reality there's much more to it than that. Editing is not only about choosing or correcting individual words, it's also about looking at your work as a whole and deciding if the choices you made along the way are working as they should be. This can involve rewriting entire sections of a book or reordering events. Sometimes it means the elimination or addition of a character. Regardless, it's an opportunity to take your writing and make it better. Editing is something every author can be grateful for because it's a second chance to get things right. It can also be your third, fourth, and fifth chances as well.
It might be helpful to think of editing the way scientists think of the scientific method. When the first draft of a book is done, try to:
• observe your work impassively, doingyour best to eliminate any emotional involvement that might make you defensive to change
• describe your own reactions
• predict how others might react
• exert control in order to eliminate alternatives that don't belong
• experiment to see which choices work best
• test your hypotheses about character, action, setting, and point of view. Do they really work the way you thought they would?
Most of us will need to experiment again and again in order to get things right. Just as scientists don't expect to prove a theory on their first try, very few writers know how their entire book should be written the first time through. It's necessary to see which paths work and which don't. This is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I think editing is something to be proud of. It shows you have the willingness and stamina to make your book the best it can be. So, if you're ready to get your hands dirty, let's get out those beakers and Bunsen burners and see what explodes.
WHEN TO BEGIN_
I think the most daunting part of editing for many writers is the question of when to begin. Some writers start editing right away before they've even completed their first draft. Others are loath to edit at all,
looking to send their work out as soon as that last word is typed. As with most things, a balanced approach is probably best.
Let's begin by looking at the dangers of editing too early. What could be wrong with that?, you might wonder. Isn't editing something we can always benefit from? On one level this is true. There are almost always changes that can be made to our writing, and nine times out of ten those changes will end up strengthening your novel. But what happens when you've turned your attention from the task of creating to the task of improving?
What's at stake is creative momentum. Momentum can be a powerful force to keep you moving through the writing process. Writing is not easy, and the task of finishing an entire book can be daunting, but it's easier to keep going when you're working hard and your story is flowing well than it is when you're picking something up cold. You know you've got momentum when each day's work leads into the next, and you just can't wait to finish the scene or chapter that you had to leave dangling the night before.
Think of momentum like going to the gym. For most of us, going to the gym takes some mental as well as physical effort. It can be hard to motivate yourself to get out of the house, especially if you've taken a long break for a vacation or illness. However, once you're working out, you remember why you wanted to exercise in the first place. Then it's easier to get to the gym again the next day. As long as you keep going, your momentum will remain high, but as soon as you stop ... watch out!
Momentum is so important that I often write a small amount on both weekend days just to keep the story in my mind and to sustain the pattern of writing. As soon as I stop, I know it will be much harder to begin again. The first day back after a break I usually sit at my computer
struggling to remember what it was I'd been so excited about the last time I wrote. This is why writers like Stephen King write every single day of the year. I'll admit, I'm not that diligent, but I do take momentum seriously, and when I have it I don't give it up easily.
Some authors deliberately end their day's work mid-scene just to keep their momentum rolling into the next day. By ending at the height of the action instead of wrapping up the scene or chapter, they're more anxious to finish what they started. Personally, I find that I need to complete my thoughts or else I don't remember them clearly the next day, but I can understand how for many people this technique works wonders.
Consider this: If momentum is so precious, why would you want to lose it too early in the process? You wouldn't. That's why editing too soon can be dangerous. When you stop the creative process in order to turn your attention to revising, the forward motion of the book stops. And for what? Unless your first draft is finished, it's probably too soon to see how the broader strokes of character and plot are working. You'll get to know your characters over time. Once you've lived with someone for two hundred pages, you'll know him a lot better than you would have at page fifty. And since your character's choices will affect the plot, allowing him to develop will allow the plot to unfold.
The most important accomplishment for your first draft of a novel is to finish it. Period. There will be plenty of time to fix things later, but in the beginning you want to move ahead and get your words down on the page. This is especially true if you haven't yet finished a complete manuscript. Many, many people start books and never end them. It's one of the reasons editors and agents want to see complete manuscripts rather than partials. You need to prove to them and to yourself that you have what it takes to see a book through to the finish line.
Now, having said all that, I will add
a caveat. There is one way that editing and momentum can work together early on in the process. It may not work for everyone, but I've found that starting each day by rereading the chapter or section I was working on the day before is a great way to gather my thoughts for that new day, refreshing my memory and stoking the fire of creativity. As I read what I wrote, I edit lightly, changing awkward words or phrases, but I don't start too far back (no more than one chapter) and I don't spend too much time on the editing part of the task. My goal is to move forward, but if I can clean things up as I get ready to go, so much the better. If you're a disciplined person who won't get sidetracked, this approach might work for you. Otherwise, unless you've changed your mind about an important decision regarding character, plot, or setting—or unless you've discovered a glaring error that will affect the rest of your book—the time to edit is when your first draft is complete.
ONCE YOU FINISH YOUR FIRST DRAFT_
Okay, so what happens once you've finished your first draft? Now the question moves from when to begin to where to begin. Should you start out on page one with your trusty red pen in hand? Should you hire a professional to help? Should you break out Strunk & White's The Elements of Style and search for editing tips?
If my most important piece of advice for this book can be summed up in one word—read—then my most important piece of advice for this chapter can also be summed up in one word: wait. If this seems contrary to the "learn-by-doing" approach of the rest of your school day, it's not. In this case, waiting is doing. It's a very important step in the editing process.
There's a term my editor and I throw around constantly: fresh eyes. What this refers to is the achievement of a certain amount of editorial distance from the work in question. When you're in the thick of writing or editing, reading passages again and again, this can be difficult to achieve, but it's necessary in order to view what you're working on as the reader would view it. Having fresh eyes means you're reading exactly what's on the page rather than what you intended to write. It means being able to sever some small part of the emotional attachment you might feel for your book in order to look at it objectively.
