This week's writing prompt focuses--surprise!--on writing, specifically whether participating authors prefer to use first, second, or third person point of view (POV).
For those who don't know or may have forgotten, third person POV comes in more than one flavor. There's "straight" third person in which the author or narrator is an observer, offering opinions as aside comments as he/she reports upon the events happening in the book. There's third person omnicient, in which the author plays God. The author narrates the story and delves inside each character's head to reveal each character's thoughts, feelings, and motivations. I find that particular variety of third person cumbersome. Finally, there's limited omniscient which I prefer. In the limited omniscient, I reveal the thoughts, feelings, and motivations of some of the characters, generally the hero and heroine and a sprinkling of secondary characters when I think doing so adds depth or interest. Of all my books, only Rowan contains first person POV content and that alternates with third person POV chapters.
I read a lot of books, especially "new adult" romances, that are written in alternating first person POV. Most of those are written in alternating first person POV, which sometimes works and sometimes not, depending upon how well the author can express the thoughts, feelings, insights, motivations, and speech of separate people. Whether in singular or alternating first person POV, the reader gets a deeply intimate and limited view of the story because we're looking at events from that character's point of view.
I've noticed that newer, less experienced authors often default to first person POV. It's easier than third person, because only one character's perception of events matters. Done well, first person POV really packs a punch. Robert B. Parker and Sara Paretsky use first person POV to great effect.
Finally, there's second person POV which is seldom seen and for good reason. It's extremely difficult to do, much less do well. I cannot recall when I last read a book in second person POV, although many blog posts tend to take that conversational tone. I certainly wouldn't attempt to write a novel in second person POV.
I'd be interested to which perspective readers prefer.
This week I'm having trouble focusing my thoughts. Work is slow, which means I've had "extra" time to write in the latest WIP (that's work-in-progress). The heat and humidity combined make me utterly miserable, which pretty much destroys my motivation to do anything. Therefore, this week you get a mishmash.
First outing on Diva
If you've been following my blog, then you know that I recently purchased a new horse to replace the lovely Lady Anastasia who, at 33 years old, has finally been retired from service. Of course, at her last farrier appointment, she stood strong and steady, not a hint of imbalance. Of course, she's probably more than strong enough to be ridden on the short trail rides I take. Of course, she's snickering behind my back, because now she doesn't have to do anything to earn her peppermints.
Last Saturday morning's excursion got off to a poor start. Yes, it's all my fault for assuming the extent of Diva's training. In short, she broke her lead rope, which meant that my husband and I played "chase the horsie." Ugh. Once we got her loaded and arrived at that trailhead, we took extra precautions to avoid further excitement and had a decent ride. She got a little antsy and crowhopped; we had a couple of small refusals that I bullied her through. Loading up to come home, she pulled back and damned near got free again.
I have to work on the whole standing tied thing with her.
My friend Cindra is coming up to our place on Saturday for a home-based ride. At least if Diva gets loose, we'll have the benefit of fencing to contain her.
Third pottery class
Last week was my third pottery class. It didn't go as well as the second. I managed to throw one pot and utterly ruin another. I learned how to trim the edges of the partially dried bowls and cup from the previous week. If I get really luck this week, I'll glaze the first three. If not, then so be it. This week I'll try my hand again at the pottery wheel. We'll see how it goes.
The latest WIP
I was productive over the weekend, adding almost 10,000 words to Bear of the Midnight Sun, the (unplanned) third book in the Immortal Shifters series. I don't think this will be one of my longer books. Regardless, it has what I'd consider an interesting beginning for a paranormal romance, which I'll share with you.
Miranda and Sindre meet for the first time on set at a Las Vegas talk show. As soon as Miranda steps onstage, Sindre knows she's the ONE. The talk show host recognizes a perfect opportunity for outrageous publicity and organizes an impromptu Vegas wedding right then and there. Miranda doesn't particularly appreciate being railroaded into marriage. Sindre's not about to let her go, especially after their wedding night. And the story rolls.
Let me know what you think.
Daughter of the Dark Moon - Review / Excerpt & Events
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Book 3 of the Twin Moons Saga
Easing the door open, he stepped outside. The whine and buzz of hungry insects swarmed around him for a second, then disappeared. Even insects knew better than to feast upon fae flesh, or at least this fae’s flesh.
Probably equal to the Erlking and Enders in age, power, and capability, Uberon, the deposed king of the Unseelie Court, was the second most dangerous living creature on Planet Earth while he deigned to visit.
“I wondered why you gave up the kingdom so easily,” came the dry remark from the most dangerous creature on Earth.
Uberon looked at the spiral ivory horn and the flashing opal eyes. “The kingdom was Marog’s and he is gone. I have no further need of the crown.”
The sleek head swung to look at the dim cabin, then back at Uberon. “What have you need of then?”
The unicorn chuckled, but Uberon did not smile. “I never thought to see the day when mighty Uberon whose veins flow with ice succumbed to his libido.”
“Mate,” he corrected.
“Mate?” The razor point of the horn bobbed. A cloven hoof stamped once. “You were already once mated.”
“The fae get but one true mate each, if that.”
The unicorn’s laughter rang out, inaudible to the ears of mundane humans who did not believe in such mythical creatures. “You want us to transform her for you.”
“If you won’t, I will.”
“Do you really think you have that power?”
“Aye.” Uberon knew he did. All those thousands of years of scholarly immersion gave him the knowledge to access and exploit the power he’d need to effect the metamorphosis necessary for his mate to live in his world. Whether she would consent to it was another question, and not one that bothered him all that much.
The unicorn eyed the calm, assured male standing unafraid before him and understood that the former king of the Unseelie Court most likely did have the power to convert his little human into fae.
“We have never had two moon-borns at the same time. They are catalysts. The result may be unpredictable and possibly catastrophic.”
“She need not be moon-born, merely fae. She has her own power.”
“A human with power? How extraordinary.”
“Bring her to us at the dark of the moons.”
“No. I will bring her to you when she consents.”
“You dare defy us?”
“I will persuade her; but she will come at her decision, not yours.”
The beast shook his heavy mane. “You play dangerous games, Uberon.”
His lips curled in a smile that offered neither joy nor humor. “I’m a dangerous fellow and I don’t fear you.”
And that, the unicorn decided, was the problem. Uberon respected little and feared nothing.
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This week's writing prompt fall under what I do when I'm not writing.
Harry Chapin would be disappointed in me. Like the father in his song "Cats in the Cradle," I focus on my work. Billy Ray Cyrus knows the sentiment well: listen to his song "Busy Man."
When I'm not writing, I'm ... writing. Paid gigs, that is. My "day job" is freelance writing and editing. Lately, writing gigs bring home the bacon, although I'm not so good a frying it up in a pan. I'm not a bad cook, but I'd never be selected to compete on Master Chef either. And that's just fine with me.
Lately, I've been attempting--and mainly failing in the attempt--to do things that don't require me to sit in front of a computer. Watching television when my brain has turned to applesauce doesn't count.
For our anniversary--30 years as of June 25--my husband enrolled me in a pottery course: six week of playing with clay. Being an all-or-nothing type of person, I jumped right to the pottery wheel. It ain't easy, folks. Those potters you see at craft fairs and on TV make it look easy, but there's a good bit of skill to throwing pots/mugs/bowls/pitchers/vases/etc. that isn't obvious until you actually try to do it. I suppose that's true regardless of what craft you attempt to learn.
I once heard that in order to learn what to do, watch the worst person at that particular activity. Then don't do what that person does. Sounds simple, doesn't it?
Anyway, thus far I've managed to throw one small bowl, two large bowls, and one mug. I hope that one of the large bowls will be glazed and ready to go by the Springfield Book Fair, because I think it would make an interesting door prize. Whether anyone would care to win my amateur effort at pottery begs the question.
Another attempt to occupy myself with non-computer activity when I'm not writing is riding. Say that fast a few times and try to distinguish between the two verbs. In English. Last week I brought home WMS Madline Lucille, otherwise known as "Diva." She replaces the lovely Lady Anastasia as my trail mount. Yes, she's a Morgan.
When I called the farrier to reschedule our missed appointment, I told him that I'd purchased a new horse. "I wanted to find something younger than Stasia," I explained. He laughed and replied, "That's not hard."
Well, no, that's not hard. At 33 years old, Stasia is ancient. I like to stay she's living on borrowed time and she's borrowing it from me.
Anyway, Diva and I will take our first ride without the trainer in attendance tomorrow. We're headed to Buck Creek State Park. Y'all are welcome to come watch the circus and then don't do what I do. You'll be an expert in no time.
Hard boiled, scrambled, over easy, and sunny side up: eggs are the musings of Holly Bargo, the pseudonym for the author.
Looking for a place to swap blogs? Holly Bargo at Hen House Publishing is wanting to Blog Swaps in 2018. For more information:
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