First Person POV - Blog Posts
I realise now why I don't like reading first person POV fanfics.
Nobody ever writes them correctly. Instead of writing with the personality of the character, the character ends up sounding so detached from the events. It's like they're the faceless narrator recording the events and then jump in to interact when it's their turn to talk.
Just saw someone try to write Danny in the first person POV. The writing was fine, but the POV wasn't POVing.
Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief is an excellent example of a successful first person POV.
I remember reading the book for the first time at 13. I've never read a book with a first person POV until then and for a while I wrote a lot of my stories with that POV.
I suck at writing first person POV these days. Unfortunately knowing why I suck doesn't help me suck any less 🥲
Don’t worry, he’ll catch you when you fall.
A few things about my book, consider that's it just the first draft, before any kind of rewrite and rework :
- 80333 words
- written in first person (MC's a woman, she is probably not really smart)
- fantasy, comedy
- slow burn (mutual pining, when I say slow I mean it, romance scares me)
- orange cat behaviour (MC)
- Worldbuilding, foreshadowing is my passion
I don't want to say too much
I am so honoured!!! Thank you so much for writing a beautiful, insightful analysis of my story's themes and recommending it.
One of the best and most heartbreaking SNS stories (here) was updated tonight and completed. It offers one consideration of how Konoha was embroiled in a war caused by its own contradictions and still failed to
1) stop training child soldiers
2) acknowledge the Uchiha, most particularly Itachi, and what the village did to them
3) bring the main house of the Hyuuga to accountability for the caged bird seals
4) create a future for its two heroes that did not involve bad hair, bad parenting, flat affect, and loveless straight marriages.
We all know Konoha is built upon contradictions. And we all know that the only way for it to survive those contradictions was to create hypocritical and morally ambiguous defenders of its shinobi (looking at you, Kakashi). Katie Madison in this story shows just how much of a mind-fuck it would actually take for the village to maintain so many of its old ways in the wake of the war.
I didn’t plan on being a wanted fugitive.
Of course not. That’s not a thing you ever plan on doing. You don’t wake up on a fine Sunday morning, look up at your ceiling and say to yourself; ‘Today, I’m going to become a criminal.”
You don’t. You don’t do that. Please, don’t do that.
For the Official Record in case anyone is taking notes, I was not the mastermind behind the whole operation. I wasn’t the main character - I still am not, actually. I’m not even the love interest.
I’m just the guy who ended up being very, very unlucky. Enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
For me, that was eleven a.m. in the playground next to my apartment.
Oh, who was I kidding? I was practically inviting trouble on my doorstep, what with being up at such a godforsaken hour as that.
The morning air was crisp and cold against my skin. My dull grey and ratty jacket was like a teaspoon of sugar against a tablespoon of coffee - not enough to ward off the bitterness.
Goodness, I could so go for a coffee right about now. Not even with any cream or sugar - just the pure black bitterness to maybe send me back a day before this all even happened. Wouldn’t that be grand - I wonder if it were possible.
You might be wondering about now; “Hey, what’re you doing standing in the playground near your apartment at eleven a.m in the morning if you don’t like being awake that early? You don’t even have proper attire against the chill.”
Now that is an excellent question. I had no little kid to watch over - I didn’t have a partner, and I didn’t really plan on having for the next few years or so. I didn’t even have like, a pet or something that I had to take out for a walk. I lived alone.
Oh no, I wasn’t standing there because I had to watch over someone. I was standing there because I was looking for someone. Or rather, something.
I was looking for the magical arrowhead that I’d been forced to buy on the internet that morning.
I didn’t even know what an arrowhead was before that morning.