by Brenda Hill

A newbie to a writers’ forum recently asked which is better: first or third person, and it sparked quite a discussion. Several writers – some published, others still working on a first manuscript – advised one or the other and listed reasons why.

The newbie said it was more natural for her to write in first person because it was how she viewed the world, but she noticed she was using the word ‘I’ too many times.

Another advised her to switch to third person because, she said, most publishers frowned on first person for exactly that reason.

“But first person is the only way I know how to connect to the reader,” the newbie wailed. “Third person is too distant.”

“Develop the craft of writing,” a seasoned pro chimed in, “then you can write from either.”

Is that true? Can we successfully write from either? If so, how do we know when to use one or the other?

When I wrote my first novel, Ten Times Guilty, I wanted to tell about a young, single mother who grew up believing she was worthless and how she learned to overcome her self-doubts and acknowledge her inner strength. First person would be natural to me, because, like most writers, when writing, I see the character in action.

However, there was a problem.

My character, Tracy Michaels, was sexually assaulted, so police and hospital personnel were involved, and because the perp threatened her son’s life, Tracy took shelter in a safe house. Several people were important to the story, and I specifically wanted the detective to struggle with a traumatic event in his own life. So I wanted his own viewpoint. Plus, I toyed with including the assailant’s viewpoint as well.

To include more than one viewpoint, I had to write it in third person. By industry standards, the events in a first person manuscript is told exclusively through that one person’s eyes from the beginning to the end. As in real life, readers experience other character’s actions and reactions as interpreted by the main character. We can guess other people’s thoughts, their motivations, by what they say and how they act, but we can’t know.

Let’s say we’re writing a story in first person about a woman striving for an executive position, and she’s getting ready for a supposedly-civilized lunch with a competitor, Jack, a jealous man who’d tried to malign her to the top executives. When in first person, we’re inside her head and we’ll write it as “I” did this or that.

Example:

For the luncheon, I selected my power suit, the black worsted wool I’d splurged on three years for my first job interview. But while fastening the buttons on the jacket, I hesitated. Did I truly want to intimidate Jack? If I landed the executive position as I’d hoped, as I’d worked days, weeks, and months for, giving up free time with my friends to perfect yet another field report, I wanted his cooperation. His talent was unquestionable, and I hoped we could work together. I walked back to the closet and rummaged through my business clothes. The powder blue wouldn’t work; it was too soft. While I didn’t want to intimidate him, I still wanted to present myself as a commanding woman, someone who could handle the job, yet be open to suggestions.

Then, still in first person, we’re with her in the restaurant while she chats with Jack, orders and consumes the meal. But during coffee and dessert, she becomes violently ill and has to be rushed to the hospital. There we discover she’d ingested arsenic, and during questioning, we learn Jack had opportunity to sprinkle the poison on her food when she left the table to take a phone call. But we didn’t “see” him do it. Along with the police, we can only surmise – unless or until he confesses.

However, if we write in third person, we can have alternating chapters written from each character’s viewpoint. In the female’s chapter, we can still be inside her head while she dresses and be with her during the luncheon, only we’d write ‘she’ felt this or that way.

But now we can write Jack’s thoughts and feelings as well. We’d skip a line after writing from her viewpoint, or we can begin a new chapter devoted entirely to Jack. Either way, we can get inside his head and watch as he poisons her. We can make him a nut case, a sociopath who doesn’t blink an eye at the thought of murder, or we can portray him as sympathetic character. He’s worked hard, really wants that position, and he’ll be ridiculed by all the males in his high-powered family if he loses to a woman. He doesn’t necessarily want the position for its own sake; he only wants his father’s respect, something he never felt he had. We can be with him in that restaurant, watching for an opportunity to poison her. When her phone rings and she excuses herself from the table to take the call, we’re with him as he glances around to see if anyone’s watching, then feel that moment of anxiety as he quickly sprinkles the powder over her meal, and feel his elation when he replaces the vial in his pocket. He sits back and innocently waits for her to return.

For my latest novel, Beyond the Quiet, I wanted to tell Lisa Montgomery’s story, a widow who grieves over her husband’s death – until she discovers his secret. She struggles through grief, loss, betrayal, and bitterness, finally learning to cherish each moment and follow her long-buried dreams. It’s an intimate story about a quiet, passionless widow who becomes spirited enough to climb onto her lover’s shoulders for a piggyback ride in the nude, so I wrote it in first person.

So yes, I’d say we can successfully write in either first or third person. I had an agent for Beyond the Quiet, and neither she nor the acquiring editor for the publishing house questioned first person. It all depends on the story you want to tell and the skill you’ve developed in telling it.

© Brenda Hill