Stupid Epiphanies - POV

I love stupid epiphanies. What, you may ask, is a stupid epiphany? Well, friends, a stupid epiphany is one of those things which is utterly obvious to the rest of the world, which you have been told a dozen different ways a dozen different times, which always seems to be somehow untrue and then one day BAM! (Please visualize Emeril screaming this as a magician makes him disappear and the entire stage on which this is being performed explodes in a cloud of realization.) Eureka! Aha! The light bulb goes off. The obvious is suddenly obvious not just to everyone else, but to you also. You feel brilliant, empowered, and yet somehow stupider than the rest of the world because it took you so damn long to come to a realization that everyone else was having months ago. That, my friends, is a stupid epiphany. And I just had me a doozie.

Point of View. The most basic of tools in any author’s toolbox. Writing 101. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy. Of course, I know all about POV. (If you feel so inclined, now would be the time to laugh at my arrogance and presumption. Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

The stupid epiphany? I was mixing up POV and personality. I kid you not. I thought because my heroine was mouthy and dynamic and completely dominated the scene verbally that any moron would be able to tell that we were seeing the world through her eyes. Her snark shone through, but, alas, characters cannot live by snark alone.

We needed to know what she was thinking. She wasn’t serious about half of the things she said, but people didn’t like her because they didn’t know she was just trying to get a rise out of her fellows. They thought she was just a bitch. Which she is, but she’s the Good Bitch. Like Glenda from the Wizard of Oz. We just needed a tiny glimpse inside her to know she’s really a lovable scamp with a mouth like a sailor.

I got so caught up in “Show Don’t Tell” that I forgot there is really no way to “Show” internal monologue and sometimes a character needs a good internal monologue.

So my realization hit me like a ton of bricks wrapped in a sock swung at the side of my head like a wrecking ball. (Needs a big sock, huh?) And now, I am conscious of something that I had been doing mostly correct on instinct. The consciousness is key. Being able to do good work at will rather than just through some amorphous “talent” means you can reproduce said good work at will.

So good news, yeah? Ah-ha! I understand POV!

And I’m a moron because other people have understood this all along. Stupid Epiphany. I’m so proud.