I changed the layout of my blog. I felt I needed something more...spring-like. Let me know if anything is hard to read!
Anyway, the point of this post: I've been considering changing the point of view of my novel. Right now, it's in third person. I always write in third person. It's my comfort zone. It's what I do best.
But...I'm starting to think that this novel would work better in first person. I'd love any thoughts I could get on this subject. And, to maybe help generate some educated opinions, here's a tiny excerpt, written both ways:
Third:
“What do you mean, you're being inseminated?” Fern Alandale, Maribel's best friend since grade school, looked at her like she'd suddenly spouted a third eye right smack in the middle of her forehead.
“Just what I said. I'm being inseminated. I already called and made the appointment.” Mari tore off a piece of bread from the loaf in the center of the table and popped it into her mouth. It was the next day, and Mari was sitting across from Fern in their favorite restaurant, Daisy's Diner. Mari just told Fern about her break-up with Tom, and the idea that struck her late last night.
“But...why?” Fern's mossy eyes narrowed and she tucked a strand of short, dark hair behind her ear. Mari took in her friend's expression and smiled. Fern had never been able to hide any emotions racing through her. Her full, fair face revealed everything, whether she flushed of embarrassment or paled from fear. Or, like now, narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion. Fern was an open book. Which was one of the things Mari always loved about her.
Swallowing her bite, Maribel explained. “Remember the list?”
“The list? Oh, gosh, really? This is about the list?” Eyes widened, Fern showed her disbelief.
With a laugh, Mari continued. “No, I was just starting at the beginning. I pulled the list out last night and was reading it. And it occurred to me - I have lived too long by a plan. An arbitrary list of things to do with my life. And, sure, some of them worked out, but do I really want to spend forever planning and listing, when I could be spontaneous and do what I want when I want.” She took another bite and continued, mouth full. “And what I want is a baby.”
First
“What do you mean, you're being inseminated?” Fern Alandale, my best friend since grade school, looked at me like I'd suddenly spouted a third eye right smack in the middle of my forehead.
“Just what I said. I'm being inseminated. I already called and made the appointment.” I tore off a piece of bread from the loaf in the center of the table and popped it into my mouth. It was the next day, and I was sitting across from Fern in our favorite restaurant, Daisy's Diner. I had just finished telling Fern about my break-up with Tom, and the idea that struck me late last night.
“But...why?” Fern's mossy eyes narrowed and she tucked a strand of short, dark hair behind her ear. I took in my friend's expression and smiled. Fern had never been able to hide any emotions racing through her. Her full, fair face revealed everything, whether she flushed of embarrassment or paled from fear. Or, like now, narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion. Fern was an open book. Which was one of the things I had always loved about her.
Swallowing my bite, I explained. “Remember the list?”
“The list? Oh, gosh, really? This is about the list?” Eyes widened, Fern showed her disbelief.
With a laugh, I continued. “No, I was just starting at the beginning. I pulled the list out last night and was reading it. And it occurred to me - I have lived too long by a plan. An arbitrary list of things to do with my life. And, sure, some of them worked out, but do I really want to spend forever planning and listing, when I could be spontaneous and do what I want when I want.” I took another bite and continued, mouth full. “And what I want is a baby.”
Now, I'm aware it's not that great. This is straight out of my first draft, only the I's and she's changed. I'm really getting excited about editing this thing. Some of it is not as awful as I'd feared. I am worried, though, that if I decide to change my POV, I'll get overwhelmed with all the changes and run away screaming. Which is why I'm here, asking for the help of all you lovely ladies (and gentlemen?) out there who write and struggle with the same things.
Any opinions would be much appreciated!
Anyway, the point of this post: I've been considering changing the point of view of my novel. Right now, it's in third person. I always write in third person. It's my comfort zone. It's what I do best.
But...I'm starting to think that this novel would work better in first person. I'd love any thoughts I could get on this subject. And, to maybe help generate some educated opinions, here's a tiny excerpt, written both ways:
Third:
“What do you mean, you're being inseminated?” Fern Alandale, Maribel's best friend since grade school, looked at her like she'd suddenly spouted a third eye right smack in the middle of her forehead.
“Just what I said. I'm being inseminated. I already called and made the appointment.” Mari tore off a piece of bread from the loaf in the center of the table and popped it into her mouth. It was the next day, and Mari was sitting across from Fern in their favorite restaurant, Daisy's Diner. Mari just told Fern about her break-up with Tom, and the idea that struck her late last night.
“But...why?” Fern's mossy eyes narrowed and she tucked a strand of short, dark hair behind her ear. Mari took in her friend's expression and smiled. Fern had never been able to hide any emotions racing through her. Her full, fair face revealed everything, whether she flushed of embarrassment or paled from fear. Or, like now, narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion. Fern was an open book. Which was one of the things Mari always loved about her.
Swallowing her bite, Maribel explained. “Remember the list?”
“The list? Oh, gosh, really? This is about the list?” Eyes widened, Fern showed her disbelief.
With a laugh, Mari continued. “No, I was just starting at the beginning. I pulled the list out last night and was reading it. And it occurred to me - I have lived too long by a plan. An arbitrary list of things to do with my life. And, sure, some of them worked out, but do I really want to spend forever planning and listing, when I could be spontaneous and do what I want when I want.” She took another bite and continued, mouth full. “And what I want is a baby.”
First
“What do you mean, you're being inseminated?” Fern Alandale, my best friend since grade school, looked at me like I'd suddenly spouted a third eye right smack in the middle of my forehead.
“Just what I said. I'm being inseminated. I already called and made the appointment.” I tore off a piece of bread from the loaf in the center of the table and popped it into my mouth. It was the next day, and I was sitting across from Fern in our favorite restaurant, Daisy's Diner. I had just finished telling Fern about my break-up with Tom, and the idea that struck me late last night.
“But...why?” Fern's mossy eyes narrowed and she tucked a strand of short, dark hair behind her ear. I took in my friend's expression and smiled. Fern had never been able to hide any emotions racing through her. Her full, fair face revealed everything, whether she flushed of embarrassment or paled from fear. Or, like now, narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion. Fern was an open book. Which was one of the things I had always loved about her.
Swallowing my bite, I explained. “Remember the list?”
“The list? Oh, gosh, really? This is about the list?” Eyes widened, Fern showed her disbelief.
With a laugh, I continued. “No, I was just starting at the beginning. I pulled the list out last night and was reading it. And it occurred to me - I have lived too long by a plan. An arbitrary list of things to do with my life. And, sure, some of them worked out, but do I really want to spend forever planning and listing, when I could be spontaneous and do what I want when I want.” I took another bite and continued, mouth full. “And what I want is a baby.”
Now, I'm aware it's not that great. This is straight out of my first draft, only the I's and she's changed. I'm really getting excited about editing this thing. Some of it is not as awful as I'd feared. I am worried, though, that if I decide to change my POV, I'll get overwhelmed with all the changes and run away screaming. Which is why I'm here, asking for the help of all you lovely ladies (and gentlemen?) out there who write and struggle with the same things.
Any opinions would be much appreciated!