Point of View: Who is Telling the Story?

One of the first questions a writer must answer is: In what person’s point of view will I write this story?

This is called the Point of View (POV). It is simply a way of saying who is telling the story. Each POV comes with strengths and weaknesses, and certain views fit naturally into certain genres. Elements of character building and dialogue are important components of POV, and vary across types.

There are three main classes of Point of View.

First Person (“I”, “Me”)

First Person POV is when one of the characters in the story is the narrator. They use the words “I,” “Me,” and “We.”

By the nature of this view, the narrator is usually the main character (or someone close to the action).

The Pros:

• Intimacy: It is fun to write because it is an easy way to show exactly what is going on in the character’s head.
• Voice: You can capture a specific personality immediately.

The Cons:

• Restrictions: You are limited. You can only talk about what that character would logically know. You cannot pass on knowledge to the reader that is hidden from the narrator.

Famous Example: Think of Katniss in The Hunger Games. Because it is written in First Person, we have a rich view of her internal world and her feelings about the people she meets. However, we don’t know exactly what is going on in Peeta’s head; Katniss can only conjecture based on his actions. For a dynamic, action-filled story that relies on urgency, this is a perfect fit.

Example: The Signal

In this First Person example, notice how we only know the narrator’s specific memories and feelings:

“Pancakes. That is what I think about, even after all these years. If anybody asks me about the last day I remember, I simply say: pancakes.

That sweet smell and the warmth of my mother’s birthday breakfast was the last bit of normality I knew before everything fell apart. We had just sat down. My mom was teasing that we didn’t have any presents for her, my dad was sipping the first of his morning coffees, and my little sister was helping set the table.

That’s when I heard it. The alert sound on our phones. It wasn’t an Amber Alert; it was the first note that everybody across the world received at the exact same time.

“Surrender.”

Second Person (“You”)

Second Person is when the author talks directly to the reader using “You.”

The Context: For fiction, this is rare because it creates limitations on how realistic the writing feels. It is much more common in non-fiction, self-help books, advertising, and songs.

Why use it in a story? Mostly for novelty. It creates immediate interest because it is unusual, though you have to guard against monotony. It can be intimate because it feels like the author is grabbing the reader by the collar. Some writers, like Margaret Atwood or N.K. Jemisin make this POV sing, but it takes a skilled hand.

For fiction, this is rare because it can feel unnatural if sustained for a long time. It is more common in songs or experimental writing. However, when used correctly, it creates an intense, immediate bond between the narrator and the reader.

Example: The Memory

Notice how this POV forces the reader to step into the character’s shoes:

“Go get ’em, girl.”

That’s what you remember your dad saying to you every time you had to do something hard. He would look you straight in the eye, and when you saw those clear, kind blue eyes, you felt like you could do anything.

God, you wish you could hear his voice one more time. But they took him away right after the text message came through that morning.

You wish you had gone with him—at least then you’d know what happened. But he had shoved you behind the sofa and told you to hide. From the crack between the sofa and the wall, you watched him walk out with his hands held high, before they grabbed him roughly and threw him into the back of that odd truck.

God knows where he is now.

Third Person Limited (“He”, “She”)

This is the most common form of storytelling in modern novels. The writer uses “He,” “She,” or “They.”

In Third Person Limited, the narrator acts like a camera floating over the shoulder of one specific character. We can hear that character’s thoughts and see what they see, but we are blind to the internal thoughts of everyone else.

Example: The Fading

In this snippet, we are locked inside Rose’s experience:

“The first time she faded, Rose was in the kitchen washing dishes. They were dirty ones left out for the night, with no one taking the time to wash them: dried potatoes, congealed gravy, bacteria.

She was scrubbing at the dry spots, bubbles from the cheap soap barely doing the job. Suddenly, the flower pattern of the plate showed right through her skin. It took a second for her eyes to adjust, to comprehend what she was seeing.

It was opaque at first, then a gleam of gray-pink… and then the cheap flowers on the surface of the plate were visible through her hand.

She blinked, and it was gone. The plate fell with a heavy crash to the bottom of the sink. From the living room, she heard her mother yell out, ‘You better not have broken anything in there!’

Thankfully, she hadn’t. The sturdy plate survived the drop.”

Third Person Omniscient (“The All-Knowing”)

Finally, there is Third Person Omniscient.

Often called the “God View,” this is where the narrator knows everything. The narrator is not attached to just one character; they can float from person to person, hearing the thoughts of the hero in one sentence and the villain in the next.

• The Strength: You can tell a massive, epic story (like Lord of the Rings) and show the reader things the hero doesn’t know yet.
• The Weakness: It creates distance. Because you are hopping between heads, the reader may not bond as deeply with one single character.

Example: The Family Breakfast

Notice how the narrator floats above the table, knowing what the Mom is like (“known for her humor”) and what the kids are thinking (“They knew their mother…”).

Mary stood up at the breakfast table. Ding, ding, ding. Her spoon tapped against her glass full of orange juice.

“I hereby declare: It’s my birthday! Ting, ting, ting to me!”

She was known for her extravagant sense of humor. She continued, arching an eyebrow, “I hope you have my presents?”

Bob looked up from his coffee. “Of course, dear. Nothing but sweets for my sweet.”

At the far end of the table, Bella rolled her eyes, and Susan giggled. They knew their mother and father were desperate for a night out; the parents were looking forward to dinner later, while the big brother was scheduled to babysit.

But then, in the back pocket of Mary’s jeans, her phone gave a buzz. At the exact same time, Bob’s did too.

A blaring clank came from all of them at once—not like an Amber Alert, but something harsher. Grating.

Or in another one of our examples;

Example: The Kitchen & The Couch

In this Omniscient example, notice how the narrator knows the private thoughts of both the stepmother in the living room and the girl in the kitchen simultaneously.

“Damn brat better not make a mess out there, and she better do a better job than yesterday. Filthy pig.”

Debbie settled back into the dirty, flowered couch in the living room and unbuckled her pants. Better to get comfortable. She’d had a hard day taking care of customers at Walmart, and she was sick of the damn manager ogling the new girls. They had everything. Back then, she used to be pretty; she could turn some eyes too. But now? She was old, tired, and stuck taking care of a kid that wasn’t hers, wearing dirty old clothes, stuck with Bob.

Meanwhile, Rose stood in the kitchen, scrubbing the dishes. They were filthy—disgusting.

She had stayed up late last night doing her homework and had fallen asleep, going to bed hungry. Nobody cared, and she didn’t ask for seconds. She could almost cry—she had some tears ready—but it wouldn’t do any good, so she just scrubbed harder. Maybe she could get some breakfast at school.

She held the plate—cheap Melamine, worn smooth so you could barely see the roses showing through the plastic. Under the sparse suds, she scrubbed harder, her fingers thin and wrinkled.

Her mind wandered, but then was dragged back to her hands. They looked transparent, almost. The faded flowers on the plate were clearly showing through the gray-pink of her skin. No bones.

A blink, and it was gone. But she had seen it.

Which Point of View Should You Choose?

There’s no universally correct answer; it varies by the story and what the writer enjoys. First person pulls readers deep into one mind; third person limited does the same with a little more narrative distance. Omniscient gives you more room to build, but is harder to control.