© by Alicia Rasley
Creating unique voices for each viewpoint character is essential in creating fiction readers want to read over and over. Unique voices stick with you and generate the best reviews.
Here are 9 exercises to help you discover your viewpoint character(s) voice. Select the ones that appeal most. Get into the mind of your character. Free-write the answer to each question in first-person, as if YOU are the character.
First-person, remember. That will help you get a sense of the character’s voice.
1. How do you learn best? Observation? Participation? Trial and error? Rumination and cogitation? Consulting experts? Writing?
Example to get you started – historical character named Rebecca: “Oh, I think I learn best by observation. I’m an artist– well, I sketch a little, or a lot, I suppose– and so I’m always looking at people and places and things and trying to capture them with my pencil.
I like to imagine what people are like from the way they move and the expressions on their faces. I try not to make judgments until I’ve studied the people, however. So I guess I’m an observer. I’m certainly not really a participant. Of course, I have to participate in all sorts of activities, but given my druthers, I’d sit on the sidelines and watch first, until I felt more confident.
Oh, dear, I sound like such a tentative creature. I guess I am that, after all– except for the once, when I eloped with Tommy. Now that time, I didn’t stop to study and observe. I threw myself right into that situation! And I guess I’ve never regretted it, not even when he died and left me alone.
Maybe it’s time again for me to stop studying and just jump in?
When you walk into a party, what do you notice first?
Is one sense more highly developed than another?
For instance…
(This aspect can give you all sorts of plot leads– a visual person might need to learn that appearances can be deceiving; an audial person might learn about a murder because she’s been eavesdropping. Remember also that an artist’s narration of a scene will use very different terms than a musician’s will.)
EXAMPLE: I have to notice problems around me. That’s sort of my role in the Pierce household. I’m, well, chaperone/household supervisor/hostess for my uncle. (I’m chaperone for my young cousin, I mean, not my uncle!)
Uncle expects me to keep things running smoothly, so I have to anticipate problems and fix them before he notices. I’ve done a good job so far, and he promises if I just get through The Month of the Prussian Visitors, he’ll give me the cottage in Folkestone. I must confess, I’m weary of it all. I feel I must be always on alert, especially where my cousin is concerned. She is rebellious, and doesn’t appreciate my chaperonage.
Sometimes I would just like to quit– but then I think of my little rose cottage, with the garden where my son can play, and I go back to problem-solving.
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NOW read over what you just wrote, and list 5-10 “hallmarks” of your character’s POV, such as “visual… problem-solver… pessimist… dark view of humanity… expects the worst… looks for trouble… wary and curious… always “on the lookout”… oddly sentimental about some things… speaks slowly and distinctly, as if talking to children.”
EXAMPLE: “Rebecca is thoughtful, with a wry sense of humor. She’s a little weary and impatient, however, and that shows in her voice. She isn’t the most organized speaker– she will start one thought and another will interrupt. But she’s obviously educated, though an informal speaker. She has more self-awareness than most young ladies of her class. I sense she’s keeping some secrets. She seems to feel that she must be… careful, somehow.”
Rebecca’s hallmarks are:
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You’re probably going to be using third-person in the book, but sometimes writing a passage or scene in first-person provides a great deal of energy and sometimes revelations you wouldn’t get if you weren’t channeling the character. Consider keeping something of the style of the character’s narration when you do “deep-third-person”. And of course you can use the hallmarks of this voice in dialogue.
One might reveal that she’s worried about getting fired, but conceal why, maybe making light of it– “Oh, the boss is always so picky about some things.” Or “It really wasn’t mom’s fault. Really. It was all my fault.”
WHAT YOU CONCEAL IS WHAT YOU REVEAL.
That is, anything this character feels like she needs to conceal…? Probably really important! And notice HOW she conceals it.
You can’t conceal without notice. That is, the very act of concealment should SHOW. The reader should be able to sense that this is a sensitive topic, or that the character isn’t telling the whole truth, or that she’s making light of something important.
How do you show this? Well, think of how you or your friends or your kids do it. Think of how when your kid or your friend is trying to hide something, you can tell. What do they do? Shifting eyes? A broken-off sentence. “It really wasn’t mom’s faul– I mean, it was really my fault.”
Me, I always change the subject.
Boss: “Now that deadline coming up– I’m hoping you can get the book in before I leave for that cruise to Alaska.”
Me: “Oh, speaking of Alaska–”
Boss: “But we were speaking of your deadline and whether you’d make it.”
Me: “I am so fascinated by icebergs, aren’t you?”
(I’m really bad at concealing.
See if you can discern their perceptual mode– what sense predominates, whether they’re more an observer or a participant, whether they’re hands-on or more book-oriented. (I write software documentation on the side, see. And there are those users who just plunge in and try to figure the software out– actually, that’s me
– and the ones who read the manual before they even slide the program CD into the PC. Which would be your character?)
Anyway, look over your character’s responses and think about how you can apply that to the narration of a scene.
If you’re in this character’s viewpoint…
For example: John’s POV
All John had to do was break into the vault, locate the right safe-deposit box– too bad he didn’t have a clue about the number– jimmy the lock, steal the diamonds, and dig a short tunnel to the sewer pipe. Piece of cake.
Or–
Mary’s POV–
She slid her hand down into her jacket pocket, closing her fingers around the cold piece of metal. John would never know what hit him.
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Alicia Rasley is a 16-year member of Romance Writers of America and Indiana RWA, a writing teacher, and a RITA-award winning Regency author.