Points of view

"One should not bring sympathy to a sick man. It is always kindly meant, and of course it has to be taken--but it isn't much of an improvement on castor oil. One who has a sick man's true interest at heart will forbear spoken sympathy, and bring him surreptitious soup and fried oysters and other trifles that the doctor has tabooed." - Mark Twain the Wise


My wonderful blog readers,

I've been trying to keep up a regular posting schedule since I started this blog.  I haven't succeeded at it in the past couple of months. Unfortunately I've been ill, for all of that two months believe-it-or-not; after now three trips to the doctor we're still wondering what's keeping my lungs from clearing out like they should.  

So, that said, anybody in the Richmond area who has a fried oyster or two to donate to the cause would be most welcome at my humble abode.  Only, of course, in the name of honoring Mark Twain's historic words.

So I spent today home sick, and much of it trying to write.  Got a decent amount done, despite having to take frequent breaks.  I'm finding that this new story line is a touch more challenging to write than the previous one, actually, and the challenge is related to point of view.

See, my previous work was written from my own point of view as a third-person narrator.  As such I could look over whomever's shoulder I wished, so long as I didn't bouncy-bounce too much.  More importantly, I only had to worry about other peoples' voices when I wrote them into dialog. 

This book, though, is in first person.  It's written from the point of view of the protagonist, who happens to be an 18-year-old Southern girl.  Southern I can pull off in my sleep, but the rest I have to think about sometimes.  That's why I've started requiring total silence when I write.  It's tough to read back over what I've written, "hearing" the voice, if there's anything else going on.  Note that this is entirely unlike my previous writing experience, where much of the book could be--and was--written to Mozart.  First person, apparently, requires silence.  At least, it does for me.

So, with that interesting (at least, to me) observation, I bid you adieu and turn back to my inner muse.

-TOSK

Word Counts:
Atlantis:  2478
Elf:  6641