Short story writing: Playing with point of view

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Seattle writer, artist, filmmaker and teacher Nils Osmar teaches several classes in the Seattle area, including Writing Fiction and Short Stories •  This article is copyright Nils Osmar 2010.

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Stories can be told from any of three viewpoints:


First person (“I was hungry...”)

Second person (“You were hungry...”)

Third person (“She was hungry...”)


Generally it’s most workable to choose, and stay with, one point of view in a short story. Shifting your point of view feels sloppy to your readers, and leaves them unsure of where to focus or how to process or interpret the story.


First person narrative:

Stories told in first person are easy to relate to, as they involve us directly.  Because of the use of the personal pronoun “I,” we may feel as if we are the narrator, or as if we’re sitting down in a private conversation listening to him or her tell the story. (Sometimes we (readers) start out sympathizing with the narrator in stories told in this voice, then feel irritated or betrayed when we learn that the voice we’ve been identiifying with is that of someone repulsive to us, such as a child molester or serial killer.)

The narrator isn’t always the most active participant in a first person story.  She might be only an observor, or someone who’s relating the story second-hand. Here’s how a first person protaganist might describe a murder he or she committed:

“I felt nervous, but energized, feeling the weight of the glock in my hand. Michael was standing with his back to me. He looked tense, frightened.  He turned to say something, then saw the gun and froze. I smiled and pulled the trigger...”

In the above example, the narrator can speak with authority about his or her own feelings (physical and emotional), but can only surmise Michael’s feelings. (The narrator doesn’t tell us that Michael was tense and frightened -- there’s no way for him to know this -- only that Michael looked that way.)

For comparison, here’s a sloppy version of the above narrative, which drifts out of first person into Michael’s point of view:

“I felt nervous, but energized, feeling the weight of the glock in my hand. Michael was standing with his back to me. He felt tense and frightened.  He turned to say something, then saw the gun and froze. He was shocked to see the gun pointed toward him, and wondered why I was aiming it at him. I smiled and pulled the trigger...”

The problem with the “sloppy” version is that the narrator is telling us things he couldn’t really know, about Michael’s thoughts and feelings. We can surmise others’ feelings from their reactions, but we’re not them and can’t speak authoritatively about what’s going on inside their heads.

Here’s the same scene as it might described by a first person witness:

“I watched, frozen, as Jeremy drew out a gun, took aim, and shot Michael in the chest.  Jeremy was laughing.  I don’t know if he was enjoying it, or just going a little crazy.  I was terrified that he’d see me in the closet, and shoot me too...”

.... and the same murder as described by a first person reteller (who was not present at the key events in the story):

“I was in Boston when it happened. I thank God for that sometimes. Leah called me up in a panic, right after the shooting.  She was screaming that Jeremy had shot Michael in cold blood, then shoved the body under the bed...”

Whether you’re a protaganist (directly involved in the actions being described, a witness (watching but not participating), or a reteller, if you’re telling the story in first person, the same principle applies: you can describe your own thoughts and feelings, but not those of others in the story.


Second person narrative:

In this rare but interesting form of storytelling, the narrator describes actions supposedly performed by the reader, i.e, you:

“You stood, pulled out the gun and aimed it at Michael. He looked at you, horrified.  You laughed, aimed and pulled the trigger. You felt nervous, but energized...”

One reason second person narratives are rare in fiction may be that they are describing events that the reader supposedly took part in, but which never actually happened. The reader tends to feel distanced from the narrative, because he’s reading about events he supposedly participated in, but has no memory of.  (I doubt that any of you reading this ever shot someone, much less laughed about it! So reading a story maintaining that “you” did these things may strain your credibility.) A solution to this difficulty is to move second person narrative into present tense, so that the narration is describing something that is happening at the moment, rather than something that never happened. Then it doesn’t matter if we have no memory of it; it’s happening at the present moment, so how could we “remember” it?

“You stand, breathing hard, draw the gun out and feel its weight in your palm. It’s a glock, you notice. The one you stole from your brother’s house.  It feels small, smooth and lightweight in your grip. You laugh a little wildly, and take aim at Michael.  He turns, looks at you blankly.  You fire.  He falls, screaming...”

In the above example, the action is more immediate and believable because it’s happening at the present moment.


Third person narrative:

In a third person narrative the narrator’s existence is implied, but she is never identified and is not a character in the story. (It is possible to shift from third person to first person by suddenly revealing the feelings or identity of the person narrating the story, but this is unusual; generally the narrator is “heard but not seen” in this type of story.)

“Jeremy laughed, drew the gun out and fired. Michael staggered and fell, dying. Leah shrunk against the coast in the closet, praying that Jeremy wouldn’t hear her...”

First person narrative is the most intimate and involving; second person narrative can be involving, but strains the reader’s credibility because it’s putting him or her into the story; third person narrative creates, or can create, enough distance between the narrator and the reader to allow the reader to suspend disbelief.


Third Person Omniscient:

In a third person omniscient point of view, the storyteller has a deity-like knowledge of all of the characters and events, and is privy to everyone’s thoughts and feelings:

“Jeremy drew out the gun, took aim, and smiled. He felt nervous, but energized. Michael turned to look at him, felt a moment of numbed amazement, then gave a pained shriek as he felt the bullet go in. He fell to the floor, landed with an agonizing thud. Jeremy glared down at him, feeling a surge of irritation that the first bullet hadn’t finished him, and fired again. Leah stood in the closet in a state of abject terror, hoping that Jeremy wouldn’t hear her panicked breathing and turn the gun on her...”

In the above example we’re aware of several characters’ feelings; our POV shifts moment to moment from one to the other. This is difficult to pull off effectively (especially in a short story) because it makes it harder for the reader to identify with any one character. The above example, which shifts between characters’ emotions and perceptions with each sentence, is obviously a little extreme.


Third person objective:

In this form the narrator includes only what an observor would see, hear or perceive, but does not describe the characters’ emotional states.  The author describes the events, and lets readers draw their own conclusion. It’s a powerful form because it lets the reader find his or her own emotional reactions. (Think of the witness describing what he or she saw, in a trial.... “Just the facts, ma’am.”) The above narrative would read like this in third person objective:

“Jeremy drew out the gun, took aim, and smiled. Michael turned to look at him. Jeremy fired, hitting him. Michael screamed, twisted, and landed with a violent thud on the floor. He groaned, shuddered, tried to crawl away. Jeremy laughed and fired again...”

(In his example, it’s clear from Jeremy’s actions (laughing and smiling) that he’s enjoying killing Michael, so there’s no need to tell us his emotions.)


Third person limited:

In this form, the narrator (and reader) can see into the mind and emotions of just one character (the protaganist, or hero). So the audience tends to identify with the character, while keeping a distance from him or her.

Looking for more information about writing, or help in developing your skills? You can find some fun, affordable noncredit writing classes for the general public, at http://www.classesandworkshops.com (Two popular classes are WRITING FICTION AND SHORT STORIES, and, IT'S TIME TO WRITE YOUR SCREENPLAY, taught by Nils Osmar. The classes are held in Seattle on the University of  Washington campus, but anyone can sign up (they're not just for U.W. students)

Have fun writing!