The Intersection of Voice and POV

By Michelle Barker

Lots has been written on point of view: first person, third—deep, objective, omniscient—and, god forbid, second. It’s enough to make a writer’s head spin. But I’m not here to talk about the dos and don’ts, or why one POV is preferable to another. In fact, I don’t think one necessarily is. While there is reader taste to consider, as well as the needs of the story, anything can be done well.           

I’d like to step away from rules to get at the essence of POV: what it is, and why it’s so important to get it right. 

POV Is a Lens

The easiest way to think about POV is as a lens that you hand the reader and say, here, you will now be viewing the world through this slightly warped piece of glass. That lens belongs to your narrator. Depending on the choices you make, that person might be your protagonist. It might be the antagonist. It might, on occasion, be a secondary character. And it might—if you’re writing omniscient in the traditional sense—be a specific entity known as the narrator. 

Every time the POV changes, the lens changes. Why? Because these are different people, and every person views the world in their own unique way. We bring many things to bear in the creation of our lens: how and where we were raised, what kind of schooling we had, our siblings, our birth order, jobs, passions, likes and dislikes—and, notably, what we want most in life. Or, in terms of fiction, our narrative goal. 

While it’s crucial to know all your characters well, this is especially true for any character who wields the POV lens. Their life shapes the way they view the world which, of course, will impact how they present that world to the reader: i.e., their voice. When your character walks into a room, what do they notice first? That is their lens. How do they express that thought? That is their voice. If the lens is sharp, the voice will be spot-on. If it’s any old lens, then the voice will feel generic, and readers are less likely to connect with it. 

Voice? Or Window-Dressing?

When I say voice, I’m not talking about using a one-note tone like sarcasm or resorting to verbal tics. That is not voice; it’s the equivalent of window-dressing—often the sort of thing we rely on when we don’t know our character very well. Such superficial flourishes can very quickly turn that person into a caricature and irritate your reader. 

Think of writing dialect. Sure, you can throw in a bunch of likes and sort ofs, drop all the Gs and add some funky spelling (I’m jest sayin’). That might capture what a person sounds like, but it won’t get to the heart of who they are.  

Consider, instead, word choice and syntax: the difference between the voice of a university graduate and someone who quit school at fifteen. Let’s make it more interesting. Let’s say our high school dropout worked hard to educate themselves but carries deep inside them a terrible imposter syndrome that slips out when they’re upset and then they revert to the vocabulary of their family of origin.

There, suddenly, you have a lens. And a voice. You have a character who will tell us something about human nature. Someone who helps us see the world, and ourselves, differently. 

And that’s really what readers want out of fiction. They want to be entertained, sure, but they’re also looking for a guide, someone relatable to help them navigate not just the fictional world but life. Does that sound grand? Does it sound like a big ask for authors? It is. Fiction is more than just words on a page. When we tell a story, we are essentially saying: this is what life looks like through this particular pair of eyes. Which is why fiction, if done well, teaches empathy. Because it forces readers to look through another lens, to realize damn, I didn’t know it was like that for you. That’s why voice and POV are so important. 

How Do Voice and POV Impact Plot?

Character drives (or should drive) the story. What the protagonist wants is formed by what has happened to them and who they are. The inciting incident (which of course you have chosen with care) will land differently for different characters. The one you’ve chosen for this particular character should be just the thing to cause a narrative goal to crystallize and catapult your protagonist into action. 

And then off they go into the fictional world, viewing it through their unique lens, making bad decisions, misinterpreting what’s around them, seeing some things but missing others, wanting the wrong things, and probably not wanting what they really need. What does this create? A plot that is driven by who that person is—rather than by you the author forcing your character into a preconceived plot whether it fits with who they are or not. That’s when you get an editor writing in the margins: this feels contrived. Because it doesn’t feel true to the character. It feels unearned. Imposed. Which it is. 

In Conclusion

If you know your characters, you will be in a strong position to see the world through their eyes, to see what they see, to process the world with their particular metaphors and values and word choices—and voilà, you will have found the intersection of voice and POV.

Michelle Barker is an award-winning author and poet. Her most recent publication, co-authored with David Brown, is Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling. Her fiction, non-fiction, and poetry have appeared in literary reviews worldwide. She has published three YA novels (one fantasy and two historical fiction), a historical picture book, and a chapbook of poetry. Michelle holds a BA in English literature (UBC) and an MFA in creative writing (UBC). Many of the writers she’s worked with have gone on to win publishing contracts and honours for their work. Michelle lives and writes in Vancouver, Canada.