Some folks are POV purists, preaching that each scene should be from one POV and only one POV. Fine. I’m not going to argue. I’m not a POV purist. Powerful writing pulls the reader in and doesn’t let her up for air. I’ve read many books that shift POV in a scene, sometimes more than once.
GASP!!! MORE THAN ONCE???
Now, I’m going to qualify that by saying that I’ve only seen it go from Character A to Character B and back to Character A. No third character. But, if it’s seamless, I would hardly notice, would I?
By the way, this is one of the problems with putting together a class like this. Sometimes it’s hard to take a seamless piece of fiction and point out the shifts. The shifts in and out of DEEP POV. The shifts back and forth between POVs.
In an article on DEEP POV, Suzanne Brockmann said this:
Early in my career, I wrote category romances, and only used two points of view—the hero’s and the heroine’s—throughout the entire book. I would often start the scene in the hero’s POV, then move directly into the heroine’s POV without a scene break. My goal was always to make this POV switch as seamless and smooth as possible, and I had a method to how I did it. I would start the scene and anchor it solidly into one character’s POV. Then, when the time came to make the POV switch, I would move into a more shallow or even omniscient POV by describing
action only, without any subjective observations, introspection, or opinions. And then I would pass the point of view. I’d establish the new POV by
using some of those anchor words I’ve mentioned and then go deep inside that new character’s head.
That’s how Suz does it—like a perfect handoff in a relay race. But that takes practice, practice, practice. I’ll admit to not having perfect handoffs all the time. Heck, even the Olympians have rough handoffs sometimes—but usually the end result is LOSING THE RACE.
Some of you will be saying, “That’s why I just don’t do it. One POV for each scene is a rule for a reason.” You’re right, I suppose. But what if you could break the rule so beautifully that no one noticed or cared?
The advantage of switching POVs in a scene is that you can get more than one reaction to what’s going on and what’s being said. Try it. You might like it. And your critique group might hate it. Your editor might hate it, too.
Okay, enough debate. Let’s see how the QUEEN does it, shall we? From Frisco’s Kid:
Frisco awoke to the sound of an electronic buzzer. It was loud as hell and it was right in his ear and . . .
He sat up, wide awake.
It was the sound of the booby trap he’d rigged to the front door last night before he went to bed. Tasha was AWOL again, dammit.
This is from Frisco’s POV. His five-year-old niece, Tasha, who’s living with him, leaves the apartment all the time. A bit further on, Tasha and Mia (the heroine, who lives next door) show up at Frisco’s place:
Frisco glared at Tasha. “Where the h—”
Mia cut him off. “Tasha was coming over to visit me,” she told Frisco, “but she remembered that she was supposed to tell you first where she was going.” She looked down at the little girl. “Right, Tash?”
Tasha nodded.
Tasha remembered? Mia remembered was more like it.
Still in Frisco’s POV:
Mia mouthed positive reinforcement over Tasha’s head.
Frisco swallowed his frustration. All right. If Mia thought he could get through to Tasha this way, he’d give it a shot. Somehow he mustered up far more enthusiasm than he felt. “Excellent job remembering,” he told the little girl, opening the screen door and letting both Tasha and Mia inside.
He forced himself to smile, and Tasha visibly brightened. Jeez, maybe there was something to this.
Here, Suz begins to back out of DEEP POV and go into the action.
He scooped the little girl into his arms and awkwardly spun her around until she began to giggle, then collapsed with her onto the couch. “In fact,” he continued, “you are so amazingly excellent, I think you should probably get a medal. Don’t you?”
She nodded, her eyes wide. “What’s a medal?”
“It’s a very special pin that you get for doing something really great—like remembering my rules,” Frisco told her. He dumped her off his lap and onto the soft cushions of the couch. “Wait right here—I’ll get it.”
Mia was standing near the door…
This could still be Frisco’s POV, except for what follows:
…and as she watched, Frisco pushed himself off the couch and headed down the hall to his bedroom.
“Getting a medal is a really big deal.” Frisco raised his voice so they could hear him in the living room. “It requires a very special ceremony.”
Tasha was bouncing up and down on the couch, barely able to contain her excitement. Mia had to smile. It seemed that Frisco understood the concept of positive reinforcement.
“Here we go,” he said, coming back into the living room. He caught Mia’s eye and smiled. He looked like hell this morning. He looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him. He’d clearly been sound asleep mere moments ago. But somehow he seemed more vibrant, his eyes more clear. And the smile that he’d sent her was remarkably sweet, almost shy.
Mia’s heart was in her throat as she watched him with his little niece.
Presto Chango! The scene started in Frisco’s DEEP POV and ended in Mia’s DEEP POV, with a seamless transition.
Now for your homework. Here are two more scenes, from Prince Joe. Pick out the POV switches if you can. Don’t be tricked.
Scene 1:
Scene 2:
That’s all for this time, campers! I’d love to hear your thoughts on how Suz did it.
Cheers, Jax
I love that booklet from Suz. I use it in my POV classes all the time. She’s a master at leading the reader from one POV to the next without pulling them out of the story. That being said, I’m not Suzanne Brockmann, and I still use scene breaks when I shift POV characters. Most of the time, that’s because I’ve shifted to a different scene rather than shifting POV in a single scene.
Jax, Great post! I’ve got so much to learn! I have to use scene breaks especially when writing thrillers to keep myself in line. But Suz writes it like it’s easy.