My first novel had a single first person narrator throughout. It was the ideal choice, since the book was loosely based on a fairy tale in which the central character is mute for much of the story (think Jane Campion’s wonderful movie, The Piano.) First person allowed the reader into her thoughts and feelings, and meant we could walk her journey alongside her. I kept the same pattern for the rest of that series, with a different narrator in each book.
I love the immersive feel of a first person voice, but of course it doesn’t suit all stories. First person is intimate, bringing reader and character close. If the narrator is unreliable, first person can draw us in, then deliver a big punch when the truth becomes evident. But it does give a very tight focus to the story, the only ‘live’ scenes being those in which the narrator is physically present. If there’s only one narrator, other characters are denied a point of view, making it trickier to show their thoughts and feelings. Devices such as dreams or visions do provide a vehicle for such insights, especially when writing fantasy, in which the uncanny is usually present in some form. I made use of psychic connections between some characters in that series.
Later on I wrote novels on a more epic scale, with a bigger cast and a wider geographical reach. Third person was a better fit for those. I gradually learned that with clever use of tight third person rather than distant third or an omniscient view, a writer can create the huge canvas of a saga while also allowing the reader deep into the minds of the main characters. With each new series, I set myself some further challenges and tried out different techniques. I noted how brilliantly some writers use structure and voice in the service of storytelling. As I continue writing, I keep on learning. I’ve moved gradually toward a structure in which a small cast of central characters takes turns narrating in first person, chapter by chapter. This approach can also work well with tight third person, in the right hands – an excellent example is Joe Abercrombie‘s The First Law series.
At present I’m putting the finishing touches to the last book in my current trilogy, a historical fantasy series called Warrior Bards. Those of you who write trilogies will know about the challenges of the third book, in which the writer must tie up the threads of two stories to the reader’s satisfaction: the one-book, stand-alone story, and the over-arching series story. In this series I have a trio of central characters narrating chapters in turn. Braiding three strands is relatively straightforward, even when those three strands don’t match (characters are individuals.) But what if the story takes those three strands in different directions? What if it’s necessary to add a fourth narrator? How can this become a neatly woven, coherent story?
In this book, the over-arching story requires my narrators to be separated for a long stretch of chapters. Not only are they physically apart, but they can’t easily send messages. This story is set long before the time of motorised transport and lightning-fast communications. Then there’s the fact that the characters are working under cover; contact holds an added risk. How could I maintain the connections between my narrators, whose interactions and developing relationships had helped bring the earlier books alive? Might this be both challenge and opportunity?
Establishing strong characters, maintaining distinctive voices: From the beginning of the series, I gave each of the three protagonists a distinct narrative voice. One character is bold and blunt, always ready to speak out for a cause. One character starts out as rude and arrogant; his abrasive manner masks an insecurity that shows in his obsessive habit of counting. His narration begins as tight and angry and gradually changes over the course of the series. The third character is a musician, a dreamer, an idealist; his voice is more lyrical and emotional, and reflects his love of nature.
The relationships between the three are the invisible threads that hold the plot strands together. Two of our three narrators are brother and sister, tightly bonded despite their differences. Two start out as fierce rivals and grow gradually closer. All three are linked by intense shared experiences in the first book; they will always be comrades, no matter what the situation. Those invisible threads are the bonds of love, loyalty, kinship and trust. Not that things are always rosy between the three, but each time one takes over the narration, the other two are still present in their thoughts; each of the three helps shape the others’ life journeys. Sometimes one of them remembers a time when they were together; sometimes they wonder where the others are and if they’re safe; sometimes they think, ‘What would X do in this situation?’ This helps keep the reader mindful of what might be happening for those protagonist who are temporarily off stage.
Making room for interesting sidekicks: Separating the narrators in this third book made room for some great secondary characters to step up. Each of the narrators finds someone to travel with, consult, argue with and laugh with, and each of these new characters takes on a life of their own, with a significant contribution to make to the story. One narrator makes a disastrous choice of travelling companion. I invited my readers to name some of the new characters and they did so brilliantly, finding evocative early Irish names.
Time, geography, who knew what when: With several different plot threads running parallel – they do eventually link up – it was important to make sure the timelines worked. Some characters are travelling by horseback, some are on foot, not all of them depart at the same time. They don’t all use the same roads. At a certain point in the narrative, I had to get them plausibly into the same place at the same time. With the historical constraints on travel and communication plus the need to stay at least vaguely accurate to the (real) geography of Ireland – for instance, some routes would be impossible for horses – I had to make sure the timing was consistent between the three, someimes four, threads.
Then there’s ”who knew what when”. The team is trying to solve a double mystery, and there’s a gradual working out of clues by each of the central characters. To put a further spanner in the works, one character spends time in the Otherworld, where, as readers of folklore will know, time doesn’t work in quite the same way. I created a spreadsheet by chapter and narrator, showing not only their movements but also the points at which each learned specific information related to their search and the points at which that information was shared. Colour coding for the characters added a fun element to the hard work. I referred to a historical map and also made a sketch map showing each character’s travel path. I hope my editors, and later the reading public, will find the result satisfying.
Will I use multiple first person narration again in my next series? We’ll see.
Are you writing a story with many threads? How do you keep track of them as you work, and how do you keep them relevant to one another?
How do you go about creating an individual voice for a first person narrator? Readers, do you love or hate first person, and why?
Photo credit: Photo 180371937 © Maryia Samalevich | Dreamstime.com
About Juliet Marillier
Juliet Marillier has written twenty-two novels for adults and young adults as well as a collection of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world and have won numerous awards. Juliet is currently working on a historical fantasy trilogy, Warrior Bards, of which the second book, A Dance with Fate, was published in September 2020. She has a collection of short stories, Mother Thorn, coming out in late 2020 from Serenity Press, with illustrations by Kathleen Jennings. When not writing, Juliet looks after Reggie, her elderly rescue dog.
Hi Juliet, I am floored by the complexity of your characterization and plotting. I wouldn’t have a clue as to start. It’s what stops me from even starting. How did you even begin to learn?
Oie.
Thank you,
Hi Patty. Honestly, I believe being an avid reader from childhood was the main way I learned about writing, so don’t be discouraged – the fact that you’re following this blog means you must be a reader! Not every writer does as much structural planning as I do – one approach does not fit all. Some writers begin with not much more than a central character and a vague idea of where the story is going, and end up with a great result, though that approach generally means a lot more re-working along the way – heaps of drafts.
I did study English Literature at university, but not creative writing. I just did the writing because I loved stories. There are some great books on writing that you could read, including those by WU’s own Donald Maass.
Juliet, I’m printing this post to use as a guide. I’m just finishing up draft one of book 2 in a series. As I work, more and threads appear. The story keeps deepening and widening right under my fingers. So yes, spreadsheets. Maps. Pages of ‘Who knows what and when’. Lists of Scots Gaelic words (mostly curses) and names. As a reader of several of your series, and now, of Bard of Kings (I’m hooked) I was able to see how everything you said here came into play. In my third book, the characters will split up and cover different geographical ground, so what you said here made me feel less intimidated by that. I’ve only ever written in close 3rd person, as it seems natural to the story I’m telling. Inner dialogue is such a wonderful tool for paying out backstory, along with the emotions that go with them. Also for keeping other characters fresh in the reader’s mind (I love that Liobhan and her brother keep thinking about their parents). So thank you for this. It’s a box of jewels. Hope you’re well.
Susan, thanks for that response, I feel honoured. I love your description “The story keeps deepening and widening right under my fingers” – I know that wonderful feeling, as if the story is taking on a life of its own. I bet you also get the sensation that you’re walking back into real history, as I do (even though there’s a lot of magic in my books.)
Agree, close third is great. Now, when I re-read what were some of my favourite novels when I was in my teens and twenties, I find the omniscient POV quite difficult, not to speak of writers who head-hop. Back then, I don’t think it bothered me.
I’m well, thanks – hope you are too, and stay safe.
” The story keeps deepening and widening right under my fingers.”
What a great way to phrase that. I’m working on a multi-POV, many-strand story myself, and that describes exactly how it’s been. Now I’m at the point where all the strands are coming back together, and gulp! This has been the hardest part of the entire saga.
Good luck with yours!
Juliet, this is a welcome antidote to the received advice that one “should” use only one POV character, which has always struck me as (1) simplistic and (2) not at all borne out by the reading of innumerable well-constructed works of fiction.
One chapter devoted to each character! Of course! (Or, for chapter, substitute scene.) This will help me address the multiple POVs in the fiction that still waits, not so patiently, behind my narrative NF WIP—and the NF can also benefit from this approach. Thanks.
Hi Anna. That’s great, I’m glad it was helpful! I think you use whatever number of POV characters works best for your particular story (though I suspect there’s an upper limit on how many a reader can keep track of.) My three protagonists end up getting about 10 chapters each within the book, taking turns, though the division isn’t equal, as chapter lengths vary widely. You could certainly do it by scenes rather than chapters. Good luck with both works in progress!
Good post. Thanks for the food for thought. I’m in that third-book situation but my narrator is the MC. Fortunately he’s somewhat telepathic (it’s Fantasy), because I have the same problem of pulling together info regarding other characters, but I can’t simply jump into their points-of-view. Fun. Also work.
Fantasy does allow added opportunities for insights into other characters – telepathy is a handy gift, as are the dreams, visions etc I mentioned. It’s been a while since I wrote a book with a single narrator; it is quite challenging! I like the pithy description ”Fun. Also work.” Power to your pen, my friend!
Hey Juliet – I’m with Susan (above)–I’m already hooked! Can’t wait for this trilogy. I’m really intrigued by the idea of multiple first-person narration.
My WIP is tricky, timeline-wise. It’s the story of my two protagonists’ lives together (they’re an on-again, off-again couple). In book one, when they meet, they’re in their late teens, and the entire arc of that portion of the story takes place in just under a year. Book two, however, takes place over a bit more than a decade. Book three, again, takes place over just a bit more than a year.
Several characters are born and become players in books two and three, and several die. It was super helpful to me to make a literal timeline with tags as to when major events happen–particularly the births and deaths. Then I can reference how old each kid is when major events take place. Puts things in perspective for me. It’s sort of how I relate to time IRL. Plus I throw in when dogs arrive and depart from my life. I also made up calendar year dates to coincide with the timeline, though I never share those with the reader.
I often compare it to juggling, but it’s really more like building. We built our house, and from the foundation to the shingles, there are sequences that have to be scrupulously maintained, or the whole thing will tumble down.
Thanks for sharing your process here, and for creating some of my favorite stories. You’re an inspiration!
Vaughn, that timeline sounds really challenging to keep track of, but you clearly have it well in control – good system. (My real life timeline hangs mainly on arrivals and departures of dogs, especially in recent years.)
Yes to the building comparison – you don’t build a cathedral by placing random bricks. That’s why I’ve never understood how pantsers can end up with well-constructed novels – I guess they do a lot of demolition and rebuilding along the way.
All the best to you and yours – stay safe!
Love this post, and can’t wait for the new book. I don’t mind first person or third, as long as its done well, which you always do. I think having several threads can also add to the tension of a story, especially when you jump from one to another, leaving the reader on a bit of a cliffhanger in one before they plunge into the next thread. Choosing that point can be tricky, I suspect.
I’m currently writing a book (historical romance) with just two threads and the characters are connected by proximity and by being caught up in the same situation. So (theoretically at least) it shouldn’t be too hard. We shall see.
Love the idea of a spreadsheet to follow each event in each thread and coordinate them. Would love to see yours. Maybe after the book comes out? My process is more like the kitten’s wool in your picture. *g*
My process sometimes feels like the kitten’s wool, but there is a pattern beneath the temporary tangles, which gets me out of trouble.
Cliffhanger point – yes, spot on. One thing I learned while writing the current work was not to make that break solely for its shock value (a flaw pointed out by an astute beta reader, and now fixed.) Got to balance the overall flow with the dramatic effect. We go on learning all the time.
Your novels always come across as perfectly plotted and beautifully balanced, with a good share of the spotlight for each of your main characters.
I use spreadsheets. Many, many spreadsheets, laying out who is where when – not only where geographically, but where in terms of relationships, and where in terms of knowledge.
It’s not that I’m super fond of spreadsheets, but I have a visual memory and I can’t carry all that about in my head.
Mind you, I haven’t tried first person narration yet. I might need to for my (probably) next book though, as I don’t think the main character has a name.
I was just talking with friends about the upcoming new film of Daphne du Maurier’s novel, Rebecca, which as you may know has a protagonist who is never named. In Rebecca that’s a key part of the storytelling – adds to the central character’s disempowerment. Story is told from her POV in first person, very effectively.
Sounds as if you are the spreadsheet queen – I take off my hat to you!
Juliet, I’ve been a fan of your books for a long time. Your post here is particularly relevant, as I’m working on my own multi-strand story and nearing the end. I’ve “pantsed” it the whole way, feeling my way along, so it’s been a slow process. (There’s rewriting, of course, but I do it along the way.)
Anyway, I keep track of the growing story by filling in a simple, day-by-day journal that tells where each character is and what they’re doing on any given day of the story (which takes place over a three-month span). But I do like your idea of the color-coded spreadsheet, and I might try to make one of those in retrospect.