More on Voice and Structure
By Juliet Marillier | August 7, 2014 |
I posted some time ago about the challenges of voice and structure in my (then) work in progress, a novel called Dreamer’s Pool, first instalment of the Blackthorn & Grim series, which is a historical fantasy/mystery series for adult readers. At that point I was wrestling with the self-imposed limitations of the format – three contrasting first person narrators alternating chapters. I love writing in first person, but I wondered at that point whether my control freak approach was forcing the story into a structure in which it would be hard to maintain and build tension. By building some flexibility into the structure, I did eventually make this work. At least, I hope I did! It’s interesting that one of the major changes requested by my editors was a re-ordering of the chapters to ensure they fell in exact chronological order – not easy or even quite natural when the three narrators are not all present in the same location until well into the story.
Dreamer’s Pool is now off my hands, with an Australian release date of October 1 and the US release in November. I’m hard at work on the second in the series, provisionally entitled The Tower of Bann. The relationship between voice and structure is the same as before: three voices alternating chapters. Two of the voices continue from the first novel: first person past tense for disillusioned healer Blackthorn, first person present tense for her henchman Grim. The third voice is that of a new character, the enigmatic Lady Mella. The mystery element of the series, in which Blackthorn and Grim combine their talents to solve a puzzle in each book, has meant that this character must withhold information in her chapters. How to do this without obvious artifice? How to avoid leaving readers with that annoying feeling of having been tricked?
[pullquote]If a plot requires a point of view character to deceive the reader – to be an unreliable narrator – that character’s voice requires careful control. The writer may use this character to lead the reader down a false trail, or conceal something that will later be the turning point of the story.[/pullquote]
Done clumsily, this kind of thing can leave the reader feeling cheated. Done well, as in Gillian Flynn’s chilling Gone Girl, it can be a powerful storytelling device. We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler is a novel in which the holding back of information is central to the emotional impact of the story. A suggestion: if you have yet to read the Fowler novel, don’t look at reviews or the jacket blurb beforehand unless you want the major twist revealed in advance.
Lacking the storytelling brilliance of either of these authors, I couldn’t immediately see how best to shape Mella’s voice without obvious artifice. How could I avoid giving readers that annoying feeling of having been tricked?
Here are some approaches I considered.
- Choose a different character as the third narrator?
I had a choice of two possible characters as the third narrator for this novel. Neither could be completely honest with the reader. Mella was the better choice, as her nature and social status allowed me to give her not only a distinct voice, but also an emotional distance from the other main characters, so she’d be less likely to share secrets with them. - Use loose or omniscient third person to set this character at more of a distance?
Third person was a possible answer, though I didn’t want to set Mella at a distance emotionally; I wanted the reader fully engaged with all three main characters. As a reader I’m increasingly favouring tight third over a looser third. Tight third, like first person, allows the reader to see far more deeply into a character and truly share his or her journey. Looser forms of third can get a bit clunky, especially if the POV hops around all over the place. Whatever I used had to sit well with the first person chapters. - Keep trying alternatives until you find something that works?
I wrote several drafts of Mella’s opening chapters, trying different voices. First person past tense works well for Blackthorn who, as healer and wise woman, is a natural storyteller, but it was not right for Mella. First person present tense is reserved for live-in-the-moment Grim. I tried writing a chapter entirely in dialogue – less insight into Mella’s thoughts that way – but unsurprisingly that was a failed experiment.
In the current draft, I’m using tight third for Mella’s chapters. Rather than have her deliberately mislead the reader – she has no reason to do so – I’m shaping her narrative in a way that is at the same time true and deceptive. I’ve given her chapters an overtly fairytale feel. I hope it works!
Below is a taste of the voices used for each of the three protagonists:
Mella (the book’s opening):
Rain had swollen the river to a churning mass of grey. The tower wore a soft shroud of mist; though it was past dawn, no cries broke the silence. Perhaps he slept, curled tight on himself, dreaming of a time when he was whole and hale and handsome. Perhaps he knew, even in his sleep, that she still kept watch, her shawl clutched around her against the cold, her gaze fixed on his shuttered window.
But he might have forgotten who she was, who he was, what had befallen them. It had been a long time ago. So long that she had no more tears to shed. So long that one summer blurred into another as the years passed in an endless wait for the next chance, and the next, to put it right. She did not know if he could see her. There were the trees, and the water, and on mornings like this, the mist lying thick between them. Only the top of the tower was visible, with its shuttered window.
Another day. The sun was fighting to break through; here and there the clouds of vapour showed a sickly yellow tinge. Gods, she loathed this place! And yet she loved it. How could she not? How could she want to be anywhere but here?
Blackthorn:
I sat on the cottage steps, shelling peas and watching as Grim forked fresh straw on to the vegetable patch. Here at the edge of Dreamer’s Wood, dappled shade lay over us; the air held a warm promise of the summer to come. In the near distance green fields spread out, dotted with grazing sheep, and beyond them I glimpsed the long wall that guarded Prince Oran’s holdings at Winterfalls. A perfect day. The kind of day that made a person feel almost … settled. Which was not good. If there was anything I couldn’t afford, it was getting content.
‘Lovely day,’ observed Grim, pausing to wipe the sweat off his brow and to survey his work.
‘Mm.’
He narrowed his eyes at me. ‘Something wrong?’
A pox on the man, he knew me far too well.
‘What would be wrong?’
‘You tell me.’
‘Seven years of this and I’ll have lost whatever edge I once had,’ I said. ‘I’ll have turned into one of those well-fed countrywomen who pride themselves on making better preserves than their neighbours, and give all their chickens names.’
Grim:
She’s busy gathering, not easy because she has to find the stuff first, then make sure she doesn’t take too much from one plant. Doesn’t want to kill it. She’s crouched down, picking and muttering to herself. Can’t quite catch the words, but I know it’s a kind of prayer, thanks for letting her take the herb and sorry at the same time. I’ve offered to help but she says no, my job is to keep an eye out for trouble. So that’s what I’m doing when the traveller comes in sight, walking along the road toward the fortress all on his own. Pack on his back, staff in his hand, no weapons I can catch sight of. Wearing a scholar’s robe. Looks harmless, but you never know. He glances over at us, gives me a nod, then catches sight of Blackthorn, who’s on her haunches with her back to him. Fellow freezes on the spot, staring. That’s a surprise. Her and me, we try not to catch the eye. I’m big, she’s got that bright red hair, but we’re not as startling as all that.
‘Man on the road,’ I say, under my breath. ‘Looking at you.’
How do you go about making your decisions on voice? Does voice go along with structure in your writing?
Photo credit: ID 1976330 © Evan66 | Dreamstime.com
Juliet Marillier has written twenty-four novels for adults and young adults and two collections of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world and have won numerous awards. Juliet’s most recent series was Warrior Bards, of which the third and final book, A Song of Flight, was published in 2021. Her collection of reimagined fairy tales, Mother Thorn and Other Tales of Courage and Kindness, had its trade release in 2022. Mother Thorn is illustrated by Kathleen Jennings and published by Serenity Press.
Juliet is currently working on a two-book fantasy series. The first book in this duology, The Amber Owl, will be published by New Dawn in February 2025.
When not writing, Juliet looks after a small crew of rescue dogs.
Thanks for the glimpse into your decision making process regarding voice and structure. There are so many factors to consider when choosing first person vs. third person, or close third versus omniscient. How unreliable do you want your MC to be? What about other POV characters? Some of these decisions hinge on how much you need or want to tell the reader, and at what point. It’s a very tricky balance, as you’ve pointed out. In my WIP, there are several POV characters who are members of the same family. All are unreliable in the sense that they see and perceive events through their own prism. The reader sees bits and pieces, but not the whole story. One thing that worked for me was to experiment with different voices. I ruled out first person, but settled on close third POV. In many cases, the writer has to get through the first draft before the answers to the voice and structure questions become clear. Thanks again and good luck with your new book.
Good insights, CG. I find it pretty uncomfortable to try and discard a lot of different approaches to a story – I never do a complete and distinct first draft, second draft etc, but edit continuously as I go. I plan everything in advance and generally I am very confident about my approach to voice and POV. That makes the current process difficult for me! But it’s no doubt good for my writerly soul.
As a reader, I love stories like the one you are writing, where different characters provide a kind of mosaic and there are all sorts of truths, depending on whose eyes we’re looking through at any given time.
I agree with CG. It’s nearly impossible, for me at least, to develop a character well enough before the first draft to nail down voice. In the book I’m in the final edits on now, Camp Dogs, I have three POV characters: A middle-aged Wall St. executive, a middle-aged black woman who is a former medical doctor, and a sixteen year-old girl who was raised by a meth-head mother and sold into prostitution. We call this a “learning experience.” The young girl turned out to be my favorite character and will take the lead on the series from here, but her voice was tough to nail down. I’ve personally never known a girl in her situation, so I had to make some assumptions, and find some surprises. It is a challenge to find the right voice, but when you do, it makes the book absolutely sparkle.
Camp Dogs sounds wonderful, Ron – a real challenge to write effectively. How interesting that the character who was initially the hardest ‘voice’ to capture ended up becoming central to the series. Clearly you nailed that challenge and were rewarded for your efforts when she sprang to life on the page!
Juliet,
Those are some wonderful passages you’ve shared from your upcoming book. I haven’t had to wrestle with a character withholding information yet, nor with choosing first or third, or ways to use multiple POV’s in my own work, but if I were faced with this issue I’d think about narrative scope – as author you have not only full control of voice but also where to turn the camera on and off. You might not need tight third to create necessary distance for your misleading character – perhaps it can be done by writing briefer sections for Mella throughout, while investing more in the other POVs. Readers will notice the shorter “glimpses” and will wonder what Mella is hiding. True this doesn’t allow you to tell the story from her POV, but as a reader I often enjoy characters whose heads I don’t get to be a part of as much as those I do.
Alternatively, I’d wonder (based on the little I glean from what you’ve shared above) what about cutting those Mella chapters out altogether? What is Mella’s character arc in the story and is it sufficient to give her a cut of the narrative? If you removed her chapters, what would the story lose? I’m speculating, but these are some questions I ask myself when I’m revising and I hit problems – it’s often for me the willingness to cut ruthlessly that helps me understand why something is valuable (and usually reveals the simplest path to a better scene).
Thanks for those insights, John. This is a series and I created a pattern in the first book – three narrators, two of whom are my ‘detective’ characters, with the third being a new character in each book. The story wouldn’t be adequately balanced if told only by Blackthorn and Grim – the third POV character allows us an outside window onto the two of them that is essential.
So I do want the Mella chapters, having ruled out the other possible POV character as too close to Blackthorn. Mella’s chapters will mostly be fairly short. Her story arc definitely justifies giving her a share of the narrative; the central mystery element is based on her circumstances.
Just to add – I’m working to a very tight time frame.
Tight time frames are the trump cards. You will come up with exactly the right solution – I have every bit of confidence in you. Thanks for this thoughtful exercise today.
Ooh, you’ve left us with a bit of a cliffhanger, Juliet, I’m intrigued.
I used two POV techniques for Steel and Song, because that’s how the characters spoke to me: first person and close third. I was a little worried about it at first, but then I let that go. No one has commented on the different POVs so I guess it’s working out!
Good! If the combination worked for you, it might work for me, too! Actually, with the two POV characters in another book, The Caller, I used first person for the female protagonist and tight third for the male protagonist, and was satisfied with the result. The difference was that I didn’t have the ‘unreliable narrator’ factor to consider.
I tell myself it’s always good to give oneself a new technical challenge with each novel :)
Kath – I’m just going to chime in to say I am loving how you switch between third and first in Steel and Song. It makes Dashkov feel distant and makes me as a reader much more curious what’s beneath the surface. Since we get close to Tova via the first person, the distancing enhances how much I connect to her curiosity (and interest / fear) about him as well.
Jinx! You owe me a Coke, John. ;-)
I’d like to slide in here to say that you made wonderful choices for your characters, Kath. Tova simply had to be first person. We needed to be “in her skin” so that we could understand the outside position she’s in (as both a Gytrash airwitch, and as a Sami). Piers’ voice is pitch perfect in third. I think it offers the right distance for a somewhat distant character, trying to ‘re-find’ himself.
Excellent observations, Juliet! Looking forward to the new series!
Been writing in variations of third person. First novel had two protagonists POVs, one more tight third than the other. Now writing shorts to discover how best to write First POV.
However, been suggested I try going tighter with my POVs. And since just started “Steel and Song” will have to study your technique for first person and close third more closely as your engrossing ‘steampunk’ tale unfolds.
Re-reading this post and found my error: realise that I meant Ani Bolton’s technique in Steel and Song. Need to get a copy of your book then. Sorry. Great post as keep referring back to it for my writing. Thanks
I love first person POV too, Juilet. I love getting deep inside a character’s head.
Kudos on completing another wonderful piece of work.
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
Thanks, Juliet for the insightful perspective. I haven’t used the mixed POVs in any one piece of my writing (or read much mixed POV). I somehow find it unsteady creatively to be switching from third person for one character to first person for another when writing. I can see in your sample how the technique might be effective. If I may be honest and not offend anyone here, I hated Flynn’s Gone Girl for a number of reasons and can’t understand why so many people have praised her as a standard of brilliant writing. Her characters failed to be real to me or even interesting and the plot was so convoluted. Anyway, I’ll try Karen Joy Fowler’s novel. Are there others you might suggest for unreliable narrator or mixed POV? I read Agatha Christie’s Murder of Roger Ackroyd many years ago, which I enjoyed for what it was then.
Paula Cappa–Just so you won’t feel isolated, I share your opinion of Flynn’s work. Like you, I can’t understand her appeal. I don’t question Flynn’s ability to successfully manipulate her readers–how could I? (the same is true for James Patterson) But her characters don’t ring true, nor does the plotting. I am talking about Sharp Objects, her previous novel, which is the reason why I haven’t read and won’t be reading Gone Girl.
As for the topic at hand–POV as it relates to red herrings, unreliable narrators, etc.–I’ve always written in close third. No scene ever involves multiple points of view. But in my current WIP I’m trying to use first person throughout–just to see whether I can. I’m finding it very difficult, very confining. And as far as I can tell, every story–especially crime stories–told in first person involves one lie after another, from the first page on. Unless events are taking place in the real-time present, this is inevitable, because the story being told has already happened. Apparently, though, this is not a problem for readers, including me. I accept it as a convention that the first-person narrator is unfolding events for me as he/she experienced them–even though everything is already known.
Thanks, Barry, for your agreement about Flynn; I’m certain we are in the minority. There just wasn’t anything redeemable about Flynn’s characters and I was rooting for no one. I really felt that my reading time was completely wasted to spend time with characters I disliked intensely. But on today’s post, I too find writing in the first person confining for a novel. I can do it for a short story. I tend to like multiple POVs in a novel myself for writing and reading.
Hi Paula. Gone Girl definitely polarised readers. I cited it as an example in this post because the tension drew me in and held me despite the fact that I, too, did not engage with either of the major characters. I admired the novel technically without actually ‘liking’ it. Because it has no note of hope or learning at the end, it’s not a book I will revisit. I still think it’s a tour de force of writerly deception. Perhaps a tad wordy.
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time by Mark Haddon has what might be considered an unreliable narrator. The Twins by Saskia Sarginson, a book I really loved, weaves two narrations, one in first person and one in tight third, by two sisters. The author manages to hold back on revealing a shocking key event in their past without ever seeming to be using a ‘device’ – I found the story engaging and convincing. Recommended.
A master of tight third is British fantasy writer Joe Abercrombie. His novels are a real lesson in voice. The First Law trilogy has a small cast of main characters, all very different, taking chapters in turn. His use of voice to deepen characterisation is stunning. First book in the series is The Blade Itself.
Thanks for sharing the author side of these writing decisions!
With most of my recent work being nonfiction, ghostwritten projects, I am learning my lessons about voice by serving as the mouthpiece through which the clients are “throwing” their voices. Oddly enough, when I started my grown-up novel 3 Through History with a different 3P limited narrator for each, my critique circle told me it couldn’t be done. I guess they were all too limited.
I am struggling with Don DeLillo’s Underworld right now, trying to tease apart any inconsistencies between his narrators. His novel has the added complexity of being “unstuck in time,” to use Vonnegut’s character Billy Pilgrim’s term. The only thing that I can report out is whatever the voice, such a legendary author/editor/publisher team called the code that runs applications “softwear.” Really!
This is wonderful. After years as as a journalist and creative nonfiction author, I’m writing my first novel in first person. And the lead has to withhold a few important life events–it’s a deliberate choice I made from the beginning. But I often feel, as I’m setting things up, that the readers could get impatient or might feel as if they’ve been “cheated,” as you say, when they finally get to those reveals.
Thus far, most of my preliminary readers have said that they were pleasantly surprised and compelled to read on, each time they got a “bolt out of the blue.” A few, in fact, said that after the first shock they kept reading specifically to see what other surprises I had in store. But I’ll be thinking about your article now, as I continue.
Thanks for the insights and examples!
It sounds as if that approach is working for you, Cyn! There’s no need for a first person narrator to share absolutely everything about his/her life. Most of us have some aspects of our past that we’d sooner not talk about, events we’re disinclined to share. Times when we’ve done things we’re not proud of, and times that are too painful to remember. In my series, both my main protagonists are deliberately shutting out traumatic memories of their past, and have agreed without saying it aloud that they won’t ask each other any awkward questions about the time before they met (as prisoners in opposite cells.) While I didn’t devise that as a method of keeping secrets from the reader, to be divulged when it suits the storytelling, there’s no doubt it does work that way. Good luck with your work in progress.
Another great example of successful mixed first and third person POVs – The Last Will of Moira Leahy by WU’s own Therese Walsh. Another book about twins; the two sisters alternate chapters, one twin narrating the present day story in first person, the other twin carrying the POV in third person and giving us the story of their childhood and adolescence. One thread is, in effect, the aftermath of a critical event, and the other thread leads up to that event.
Similar pattern in Perfect by Rachel Joyce. The two POVs are third person past and third person present. I can’t tell you more about how it’s put together without risking spoilers, but it’s a beautifully constructed story with a twist I failed to see coming, and utterly engaging. Joyce also wrote The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry.
Excellent post. I don’t typically read fantasy, but the passages you shared have me very intrigued to check out your book!
Great, Brianna! I hope you will give it a try. If it helps, mine is not the elves, dwarves and quests style of fantasy. :)