The trouble with voice is that it’s nearly impossible to find an adequate definition.  The best I can say about voice is that while I might not be able to define it, I definitely know it when I see it.

Before putting together this post, I did a little research on voice by looking at books about the craft of writing.  Some books break voice down into distinct categories like “ceremonial voice” or “conversational voice” but I’m not sure pigeon-holing voice into rigid categories is the way to go.  After all, most of the time, the voice in a writer’s piece won’t fit into a neat little category but may challenge those boundaries.  Also, just because you know what category your book’s voice falls into doesn’t mean you know how to make the most of that voice.  Sometimes labels are just that: labels.

Where does that leave us?  Today I decided to share a few things I have learned about voice that have helped me in my own writing.

(1)  Voice operates on multiple levels.  A lot of times, we hear people talk about the voice of a piece, but I find that generalization to be a bit naive.  Rarely does writing have only one voice.  In fact, there are usually at least two levels of voice in any given work.  (If you’re into meta-fiction, where the writer is offering commentary or where you have a story-within-a-story framework, you could have even more levels).  The most basic level is the narrator’s voice, the voice that’s telling the story.  We see this voice in the narration, description and other non-dialogue parts of the story.  But wait!  We also have the voices of the characters in the story, voices we usually only get to hear in dialogue.  So unless a story has only dialogue or only narration, we have to worry about at least two different types of voice: voice of the narrator and voice in dialogue.

Of course, when you’re in a 1st person Point of View (POV), the voice of the narrator and the voice of the protagonist will overlap because they are the same person.  This doesn’t mean, though, that the voices are exactly the same.  After all, the protagonist could be thinking in one tone of voice but talking in a very different tone.  For instance, imagine a protagonist who’s being very polite in dialogue but when we read the narration and get into the character’s thoughts, we hear a super-snarky tone.  Same character, but the dialogue voice and the narrator’s voice are completely different.

Also, there are times when you can eliminate either the voices of the characters or the voice of the narrator altogether.

Eliminating the voices of the characters.  Every so often, we come across a story that takes place completely in the narrator’s mind.  One great example is The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe, in which we only get a snippet of dialogue, and even then we can’t take that dialogue at face-value because our unreliable narrator is telling us the story so we’re not sure if that dialogue is really “true” to what happened.  Since this story takes place almost entirely in the narrator’s head, all we hear is the voice of the narrator.

Eliminating the voice of the narrator.  Some stories, on the other hand, are so heavy in dialogue that we practically lose the narrator altogether.  One example is Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway, where with the exception of a few stage directions and dialogue tags, we really only get the voices of the characters in dialogue.  An even more extreme example is Seek by Paul Fleischman which is written as a radio play so all we have are the voices of the characters.

(2) Just because a piece is in 3rd Person, doesn’t mean the narrator doesn’t have a voice.  The temptation is to assume that just because a book or story is written in 3rd person, you don’t have to worry about voice.  Sorry, but in fact the opposite is true.  There are many ways a 3rd person narrator can have a voice in the story and these are conscious choices that you (the writer) must make.

Opinionated narrator.  Sometimes you have a narrator who has strong opinions and these attitudes neak out in the way the narrator tells the story.  One example is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.  Just look at the opening line.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

Clearly, Austen has some opinions of her own concerning whether it’s the single wealthy men who are in want of wives or whether it’s single women who are in want of men possessing a good fortune.  Another great example is Matilda by Roald Dahl.  The contempt this narrator has for children (particularly spoiled, unexceptional children) comes across in the word choice: “blister.”  See the opening line below.

It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers.  Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think he or she is wonderful.

Invisible narrator.  At the other end of the spectrum, we have third person narrators who are subtle and unobtrusive that the reader hardly even notices that the narrator is there.  After all, there are times that the writer just wants the narrator to melt into the background so that the readers can focus on the characters and the story at hand.  Of course, invisible narrators don’t happen by accident.  They’re extremely difficult to pull off well and the writer must make a conscious choice to write the narrator this way.

One caveat: in the case of the invisible narrator, it’s not that you don’t have a narrator at all, but that the narrator’s voice doesn’t draw attention to itself.  Often this type of narrator is omniscient so it can pop in and out of character’s heads quietly and without making a fuss.  One lovely example of this type of narrator are books by Eva Ibbotson (Which Witch or The Secret of Platform Thirteen) where the narrator certainly has a distinct tone, but it’s so subtle that we hardly notice the narrator is there at all.  We just get carried away by a good story.

In the end, voice is tough to define and teach because it’s so flexible. The best way to really get a handle on it is to train your ear, so on Friday, I’ll give you a prompt that will help you hone your listening skills

Last week we talked about Point of View and one reader raised a fascinating point in the comments about the narrative distance between first and third person.  As I thought about this point, I realized that verb tense also affects the narrative distance, hence this post about verb tense and how that affects the viewpoint choices we make.

The choices are pretty simple because essentially there are only two options for you to choose from: past and present.  (Yes, there’s also future tense, but, really, have you ever seen an entire short story or novel written only in future tense?  If you have, please post the title and author in the comments.  You will make my day.)

When it comes to tense in fiction writing, there’s only one “rule” you need to remember: be consistent.  If you decide you want to write in present tense, stay in the present.  If you choose the past tense, stay in the past.

But how do you choose the verb tense to begin with?  The best way is to understand the benefits and limitations of both, then decide which one serves your story best.  Here’s a little cheat sheet to help you choose.

• Immediacy - You feel like you’re right there with the main character.
• Suspense -  This is especially important if your story is one where the POV character is in peril.  If the story is in present tense, the reader won’t know until the end if the POV character survives.
• It Can Sound a Little Unnatural - Let’s face it, present tense is relatively new in the world of fiction writing.  Our ears are more used to hearing stories told in past tense (e.g. “Once upon a time there was a…”)  This is not to say that all present tense sounds weird, but for some writers, it may not come as naturally as past tense.  This could lead to writing that sounds a bit hokey or gimmicky.  The trick here is practice, practice, practice.

• Distance - The narrator has more distance from the events in the story it because they happened in the past.  This gives the narrator some perspective about those events and allows the narrator to have some hindsight.  This is true both for first person and third person narrators.
• Location in Time - Using the past tense, you also need to consider where the narrator is telling the story from.  (This is especially important if you’re using 1st person.)  Is the narrator an old man looking back on his early life?  Is she telling the story just after having lived through it?  Depending on where the narrator is NOW, it can effect how he or she tells the story.  Third person gives you more leeway with this but in first person you need to consider this detail, even if you don’t explicitly state it in the story.
• Less Suspense - If you’re writing in 1st person or 3rd person limited and it’s past tense, the implication is that the POV character has lived to tell the tale (again, this is especially true in 1st person but you get more wiggle room in 3rd).  In most stories, this is probably not a problem and won’t kill much of your suspense, but if your novel is all about whether or not the POV character survives, then past tense could lessen the suspense.

In the end, it all comes down to this: Choose wisely.  Be consistent.  And don’t tear the fabric of the space-time continuum.

Now I’d like to know… which tense do you prefer to write in, present or past?

Vigeland Sculpture Park -- Oslo, Norway

Sometimes writing in a different or neglected point of view (POV) can feel about as comfortable as swimming through tree branches.  The photo at left shows an image from Vigeland Sculpture Park in Oslo, Norway, a park filled with statues of human and non-human forms twisting and turning through the air.  When I visited this park, I realized how important it is to see the world from different angles just as the artist, Gustav Vigeland, studied and executed his sculptures.  In this week’s prompt, I challenge you to face a POV you usually neglect head-on and wrestle with it.

Weekend Prompt:  Choose a point of view you often shy away from and write 1-2 pages.  This means if the 1st person is usually your go-to POV, try one of the 3rd person options.  Or maybe you want to raise the stakes a bit?  In that case, try out 1st person peripheral or 2nd person.  Finally, for a real challenge, try something that really goes outside the box, like:

•  First Person Omniscient: like the narrator in The Book Theif by Markus Zusak, who clearly has a first person voice but knows and sees all.
•  Epistolary: where you’ll have to find a way to work in dialogue so it doesn’t feel false or out of place.
•  Unreliable Narrator: where the narrator, for whatever reason, is not to be trusted.

When I was writing my MFA thesis project, I must have tried at least three or four different types of POV: from 1st person to 1st person omniscient (which did not work at all), to 3rd person omniscient and finally landing on 3rd person limited.  Sometimes you just have to try out a few different options before you find the one that makes your story sing.

Now tell me: Which POV do you plan to try out and why?

When starting a new project, one of the big decisions you have to make is which point of view (POV) you’re going to use.  Here’s a POV-CheatSheet you can download to help you choose the point of view that’s right for your story.

Before I give you a rundown of the different types of POV, let me explain the cheat sheet diagram.  P stands for Protagonist (the main character in your story) while N stands for the Narrator (the person telling the story).  Sometimes P and N are the same character, sometimes they are not.

A solid circle represents a character inside the story while the dashed line represents someone outside the story.  Notice how P is always in a solid circle (because the protagonist is always a character in the story) while N can either be a solid circle or a not.  The circles represent what P or N know in the story–the information available to P or N.

Example: In the first person, the protagonist and narrator are one and the same so everything the narrator knows, the protagonist also knows.  In a third person point of view, the narrator is outside the story so he/she has access to information that the protagonist does not know.  The cheat sheet gives you a visual representation of all the basic POV options.

Point of View Cheat Sheet:

First Person
This is when the main character is the person telling the story.  In other words, this is the “I” narrator.  Examples: Holden from Catcher in the Rye or Katniss from The Hunger Games.  Notice how the circles for the protagonist and narrator overlap.  This is because the narrator can only know information that the protagonist has access to.  No more, no less.

First Person Peripheral
This is when the narrator is a supporting character in the story, not the main character.  This is still the “I” narrator, but now the narrator is not the protagonist.  Example: Nick from The Great Gatsby (Gatsby is the protagonist).  In this case, the circles only overlap partially because the narrator has access to some information that the protagonist knows but not all.  This means that there are events and scenes that happen in the protagonist’s life that the narrator will not have access to, making this point of view option more of a challenge.

Third Person Limited
Third person is the “he/she/it” narrator.  Limited means that the POV is limited to just one character.  This means that the narrator only knows what that character knows, only sees what that character sees.  Examples: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (where the story follows Scrooge at all times–even scenes that Scrooge would not be privy too we see through his eyes as he travels with the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future).  The Book of Three (first book of the Prydain Chronicles) where the narrator follows the protagonist Taran.

Note: Third Person allows the writer to play with Narrative Distance.
Look at the second row of circles.  All three are examples of third person limited, but the narrative distance changes.  This means that when narrative distance is close, the narrator is right there inside the protagonist’s head, almost overlapping as we saw with the first person POV.  As the narrative distance gets farther away, the narrator has access to more information outside of the protagonist’s viewpoint but also loses some of that up-close-and-personal feel we get when the the distance is zoomed in all the way.

Think of narrative distance as the writer’s zoom lens, it allows you to get close to the protagonist’s thoughts and feelings but also to pull back and get a bird’s eye view.  As with a video zoom lens, you want to avoid zooming in and out too quickly or making drastic choices (unless you want your reader to feel disoriented).  Still, third person allows you this wiggle room that you don’t get with the first person POV.

Third Person Multiple
Again, we’re in the “he/she/it” category, but now the narrator can follow multiple characters in the story (hence the multiple circles within the narrator’s circle).  The challenge with this POV is making sure your reader knows when you’re switching from one character to another.  A good way to make the switch is to use chapter breaks or section breaks to signal a new POV.  Example: The High King (which is the final book of the Prydain Chronicles) where the narrator follows several characters in the story, including Taran.

Third Person Omniscient
This one still uses a “he/she/it” narration but now the narrator knows EVERYTHING in the story.  The narrator isn’t limited by what the POV character knows.  It’s sort of like the narrator is god, hence the term “omniscient.”  This type of POV was very popular back in the day but has recently become less popular (some people feel like it’s a little old-fashioned).  Still, some excellent books use this narrator.  Examples: Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Third Person Objective
Just like the omniscient narrator can get into any character’s head, the objective narrator gets into NO ONE’s mind.  This means the objective narrator can only relate information that is easily visible (character’s words and actions).  This narrator can’t tell us about the character’s thoughts or feelings because it doesn’t know.  It’s kind of like watching a movie, where the only information you get is what you can see or hear.  This POV is very tough to sustain for long pieces which is why the only example I can find is a short story: Raymond Carver’s Little Things.  In this case, notice how the narrator’s circle and the protagonist’s circle do not overlap at all.  This is because the only information the narrator has access to is what can be observed externally through the protagonist’s words and actions.

Second Person
This is the “you” narrator.  “You go to the store and realize you forgot your wallet… etc.”  Like objective POV, the second person is hard to sustain so there are very few novels written in second person.  This POV is more popular for short stories.  In fact, the first story I ever published is in the second person (which is weird because I think it’s the only story I’ve ever done in second person).  Anyway, if you’re curious, it’s here.

Unreliable First Person
This is when you have a first person narrator but you can’t trust him/her for any number of reasons. Maybe the character is a very young child who doesn’t really understand what’s happening in the story.  Or perhaps the character is insane.  Or better yet, the character could be perfectly sane but also a pathological liar so you can’t believe what she says.  Example:  The Tell-tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe.

Epistolary (or other) Form
Epistolary is when the story is told in letters.  There are many forms that work similarly to epistolary forms, like journal form or a story told through emails, etc.  Mostly these forms work like the first person because the main character in the story is often the one writing the letters/journal/etc.  The difference is that the story is limited even further because of the form.  For example, people don’t usually write dialogue in their letters, so if you want to use dialogue in epistolary form, you’ll have to find a way around that.

In the end, POV is all about consistency.  Whatever form you decide on, it’s important to let the reader know what the “rules” are for your story and then stick to them.

Lion's paw, taken from below.

The way you look at a story can change the story altogether.  Just changing the type of POV you use can make a story come to life or fall flat.  The way you approach a character–the angle you choose to look at him or her–can change how your reader perceives the character as well.  Like with the lion’s paw (left) the angle you choose and how close-up or far away you are can change your perception of the character and even the whole story.

These days, most writers tend to lean toward either the first person point of view or the third person limited.  First person is when the protagonist is telling the story in his or her own words: “I did this, I saw that.”  Third person limited is still limited to the protagonist’s point of view (i.e. no reading the minds of other characters in the story) but now the narrator is not an actual character in the story.  The narrator is relating the events from outside the story: “He/she/it does this, he sees that.”

Here’s a classic example of 1st Person POV:

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, that stuff bores me, and in the second place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They’re quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father.
~J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

And here’s a classic example of 3rd Person Limited:

Taran wanted to make a sword; but Coll, charged with the practical side of his education, decided on horseshoes.  And so it had been horseshoes all morning long.  Taran’s arms ached, soot blackened his face.  At last he dropped the hammer and turned to Coll, who was watching him critically.
~Lloyd Alexander, The Book of Three

While there are many other POV options available (I’ll be giving you a complete cheat sheet on Wednesday), I would venture to guess that the vast majority of writers go with one of these two options.

So today I thought we’d have a POV face-off.  Which is your go-to POV?  Do you love getting right inside your character’s head and telling the story in his or her voice (first person)?  Or do you prefer the flexibility and distance that the third person limited allows?

I myself am undecided; I’ve written novel-length manuscripts in both types of POV.  So I want to hear from you.  Which POV do you like best and why?