What a character says, thinks, and does is guided by personality, needs, perceptions, abilities and limitations. Of course. But I believe a writer should take that principle a step deeper: even expository narration should reflect the character's personality, be flavored by the character's persona. That portion of the story should read as if the character composed the narrative, not the author. Done well, once a reader is introduced to a character she will recognize a character's narrative even if the character is not named.
The key to doing this was brought home to me when a critique partner recently said, about the novel in progress that she is helping with, "I love the change of vocabulary accompanying the change in POV." She referred to the word choices in the exposition part of the narrative, and had put her finger on the root technique for flavoring in a way that I hadn't thought of. It's the words, stupid.
Here's
the material that provoked her remark, an example of one character’s narrative
followed by one from the other’s:
A golden gleam from a glass case catches Ailia's eye. Nestled among other jewelry is a delicate necklace wrought of thin strands of woven gold, designed to adorn a woman of high station. She stands over it, wishing she could know its history, wondering if it once graced the neck of a forebearer. For all she knows, the woman could still be alive, though it is doubtful.
Movement draws her eye. The stocky guard appears at the entrance, her full cheeks flushed. Adopting the regal bearing befitting her disguise, Ailia sidles closer to a woman of about her height who also wears a long coat.
* * *KB stops at the entrance to the Celtic exhibit, where she can check out the room but won't be too noticeable. She sweeps her gaze across the visitors who study the stuff on display. She notes three women in long coats and dresses-a chubby black woman, her face much darker than the one KB had seen in the hallway; a fiftyish blonde with short hair; and a white-haired, snooty-looking lady. None of them has the nightmare face KB saw. Was that face a mask? Or does she see a mask now? Or maybe the subject of interest is somewhere else. One way to know for sure. She eases her thermal camera up.
My critique partner cited the use of "check out" and "stuff" in the second character's narration as points of difference. You could add "snooty-looking."
How many popular novels fail to do this? I see them; don’t you? While dialogue may differ (often not by much), exposition is flat and non-differentiated. But it could be. I say it should be.
Here's another example from With Regret, a mystery that takes place in the old West.
To his left, wood thunked on wood and he whirled, his finger tightening against the trigger. In the doorway to the spare room stood a boy of about ten. A boy propped on a crutch, his left leg hanging limp. A boy with Tom's long, serious face, his sandy hair, and his hazel eyes, eyes that fastened on Zach's. They widened. "Father?"
Zach turned to the woman. "Where's Tom Duval?"
She swayed and braced herself with a hand on the window sill, but she didn't answer.
He demanded, "Who are you?"
She lifted her strong chin and leveled golden eyes at him.
"His widow."
* * *Amber felt him lookin' at her. Like all men did.
Except for the fancy city suit, he was the spittin' image of Tom. Same stocky body, strong-looking, the hazel eyes with arching brows that made his gaze seem like it was coming after her.
Why in hell did he have to show up? A few more days and she'd have been out of this inferno.
Lastly, here are the narratives from two characters in a novel my agent is shopping, We the Enemy*.
A half-dozen punks swagger toward him, their pants so baggy one kid has to hold onto his waistband to keep his from falling off. With cocky menace and weapons visible, they block most of the sidewalk, forcing people to skirt the curb or sidle along a building front. Jake locks his gaze onto the eyes of the lead guy in the center and walks straight at him.
The kid keeps his cool as they come together but, one stride from a collision, he drops his gaze and sidesteps. Jake slices through, never changing his pace, and focuses on what he knows of the Attorney General.
* * *Jewel trembles, the old scar across her cheek throbbing as though it remembers old trouble. She settles herself down. Her Mama always said, "In this world, you got to be hard. Ain't nobody there for you but you." Hallelujah, Mama.
She'd been lucky today. She feels compelled to thank the guy, even if he is white. Jewel hurries after him, trying to arrange her torn top into decent coverage, but one tit or the other keeps falling out. Great, now she has to walk down Michigan Avenue with her boobs hanging out. And won't they just love it back at the office.
She spots her rescuer slicing through the crowd. She really should get back to her job but hell, he pretty much saved her little brown ass. She shouts, "Hey!" No response.
Enough said. Write narrative in the same vocabulary and style as a character's dialogue and thoughts. Each character's turn on the stage will resonate with the person, not just a puppet you've trotted out to roll the plot wheel.
RR
Let me hear from you. If I can help you with a question about your writing, email me and I'll apply a beady eye to it. Tell me if I can share it in a post or if you want a private consultation.
* We the Enemy is a speculative thriller represented byTriadaUS.
© Ray Rhamey 2004