Although an author might feel certain the point of view for a chapter or scene is perfect, maybe it isn’t. That’s the sad truth.  Remember the adage: When a manuscript is edited, it often means killing parts you love. Many authors think they’ve gotten it right, until that comment on “point of view” is written across the edge of the manuscript, or on a cover note.

When Phyllice and I originally wrote “A Corpse in the Soup,” we really didn’t know much about point of view. The following excerpt was in a scene that should have been in Godiva’s POV. We wrote it back in 2003, four years before several replies to our queries emphasized that our point of view was out of control. We paid heed, and the book was literally rewritten, and published.

On cue, the room filled with applause as Chef Romano rolled up his sleeves and romanced the ladies with a suggestive line of patter. Flashing his gleaming smile he simmered his sauce and sautéed his shrimp. Caesar Romano was desperately aware that he needed a new assistant. It wasn’t easy to do the show without the captivating Candy.

…But, he mused to himself, egotistically, if I hadn’t rejected her pathetic advances, she would never have gone over to the enemy camp. After all I did for her she could have at least given me two week’s notice. He flashed back to the day he rescued her from her ignoble performance in a Veg-o-Matic infomercial. Now she’s probably drooling all over that muscle head, Biff…

Have you spotted the glitch? Don’t feel bad if you didn’t. It was a major faux pas, but we didn’t know that then. However, sections like that sent a clear signal to an agent or publisher that we still had a lot to learn. You see, if we were truly in Godiva’s POV, there was no way for her to know Romano’s inner thoughts and concerns. Since we really didn’t know Romano at that point in the book, even a scene break wouldn’t have worked. This was a real violation of the rules of the game. By the time the book was finally published, we were very clear about how to handle situations like this. This is how we got Romano’s concern across:

Chili tugged at her sleeve and Godiva snapped back to the present. “Candy’s not here,” Chili whispered in Godiva’s ear. “The rumors must be true.”

“Who’s Candy?”

“His assistant.”

Then Godiva remembered seeing something in last week’s gossip columns. Candy Vanderloop, the air-headed blonde who normally handed him spoons and ladles, had walked out on him without notice. Word was out that she had signed on with Romano’s rival, Biff Wellington.

On cue, the room filled with applause as Chef Romano rolled up his sleeves. He romanced every woman in the audience as he simmered his sauce and sautéed his shrimp, constantly looking to his right or left as if expecting an assistant to hand him something.

“He needs a sous-chef,” said Chili. “See how he keeps looking for Candy?”

We provided the reader with most of the same information through observation and dialogue, while still staying in Godiva’s POV.

If you’re a writer, be on the lookout for these POV head-jumps. If you’re a reader, it may or may not bother you when this occurs, but it sure makes it harder for the author to get published.

Related posts:

1. What’s the Point of “Point of View?” – Part 1
2. Opening up Your Options: Making a Choice – Part 1
3. Opening up Your Options: Making a Choice – Part 3
4. Make Cardboard Scenes Spring to Life
5. The Art of Drawing Word Pictures – Part 3