Avoiding firstpersonitis

Justin asked:

"What are the tactics for keeping a first person present account interesting? In the past and in third person I feel it's much easier.

"I recall Chuck Palahniuk warning writers not to get too deep into the 'I' 'Me' '"I's because they bore a reader... how do you feel?"

Hmmm. As I said earlier, I've never considered tactics or techniques for keeping first-person interesting. Maybe that's because all the published first-person stuff I've seen is professional. I write in the first person a lot and, of course, think that it's interesting.

The first, obvious answer is to tell such a riveting tale that no one cares. Or that the narrator has such a vivid voice that it doesn't matter. But those are not tactics or techniques. So let's tackle craft issues. How do you avoid I, me, etc.? Just as I've noticed in third-person narratives that the "he" or "she" pronouns can become repetitive and annoying, so can the first-person versions. Third-person, however, offers an out that first person can't: the use of the character's name instead of the pronoun.

But there is a useful tactic for reducing the number of first-person pronouns in a narrative. Describe the action of others without references to "I." A narrator doesn't have to say:

I see him lift the hammer.

It can be:

He lifts the hammer.

Or turn subjects and verbs around. Instead of:

My arm is pierced by a dagger.

How about:

A dagger pierces my arm.

Here's an example first-person narrative from a work in progress. The characters are a dad (Gabe), his son (Mike), and the narrator, who is new to them. The boy is breaking out of an autistic shell. The action is toasting marshmallows in a wood stove. Note: when the narrator says another character hopes and fears, this is not a point-of-view violation: she can see emotional auras in people and can therefore know what some is feeling.

Mike takes a marshmallow, skewers it on a roaster made from a wire hanger, and goes to the stove. Gabe does the same and joins him

Mike holds his hanger with both hands. The tip of his tongue poking between his lips in concentration, he gingerly inserts the marshmallow into the fire. He rotates it as it browns. Just as it begins to sag, he pulls the marshmallow out.

He comes to me, holding the marshmallow out.  "Please?"

Gabe watches us. He hopes, he fears.

Inside, a part of me goes as soft as the toasted marshmallow. I blow on the treat to cool it, then slide it from the hanger's tip. "Thank you, Mike. This looks delicious." I take a bite and, of course, it is delicious, the warm taste of caramelized sugar combined with pure sweetness.

Gabe and Mike smile identically.

Gabe's marshmallow flames. "Whoa!" He jerks it from the fire, blowing out his mini-inferno. Even though his marshmallow is blackened, he cools it and pops it into his mouth. I remember that, even scorched, they taste good.

Is this interesting? Well, if you knew the whole story, I'm pretty sure it would be because this innocent-seeming activity is a huge breakthrough in the child's illness. But even without that, I don't think the first-person voice is so intrusive that it becomes tiresome.

Here's an example from a new blog, "Death Sucks: On being a vampire kitty-cat," that's written in the first person. While not present tense, the same issues apply. These are the opening paragraphs.

Just after dark, Death grabbed me by the ass. Literally. The moon was out, September breezes were cool and full of hints that fall was coming, and I was trotting over a mound of fresh earth, not an uncommon thing in a graveyard, my mind on a hot little Siamese over on 15th Street who was coming into heat. A hand shot up out of the dirt and grabbed my hind legs.

I twisted and started for the hand with my claws out, but they never got there. Another hand burst out and grabbed me by the neck, and the two snapped my body straight. A woman's face poked out of the ground. She sat up, holding me in front of her. I figured I was about to kiss my furry butt goodbye, and I was right. Sort of.

Description such as "A hand shot up out of the dirt and grabbed my hind legs." And "A woman's face poked out of the ground." pretty much avoid the I-me syndrome. Also, since it's strong action, the narrative voice doesn't seem to be a problem.

That's what I have to offer today, anyway. Look for ways to take the "I" out of the narrative by turning sentences around and by not putting everything in the "I experience. . ." category of narration. I agree that too many uses of "I" can be intrusive, but I think "me" and "my" are less troublesome.

If you have any tactics that you've found useful in dealing with firstpersonitis, drop me a note.

For what it's worth.

Ray

Free edit in exchange for posting permission. You send a sample that you have questions about and of which you'd like an edit. I won't post it without your permission.

© 2005 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[Dee Stewart]

I use Chuck's submerging the I tip all the time. Didn't think about using it in third person--submerging the She. :) I will in my next draft of my WIP. Thanks.