I am working on my newest book, and I just cannot decide if I want to write it in first or third person. I originally wrote it in third person, I then converted to first person, and now I’ve converted it again into third. I need to make up my mind soon.
So here is the same text, in different ‘persons’:
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“Look! There’s the sign! This is it, turn right here!” I yelled.
I realized that yelling in an enclosed space like the car probably wasn’t a good idea as I watched my husband jump at the sound of my voice. He swerved to the right to make the requested turn, and then turned to look at me in surprise. I am usually much calmer than this.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell,” I admitted sheepishly and cringed at the expression on my husband’s face. I glanced toward the back of the car to see if my loudness had upset the children who were being suspiciously quiet, and was relieved to find they had all fallen asleep.
“I am just so frustrated,” I continued quietly. “Do you realize we have been driving over half an hour, and we still cannot find that stupid road?”
“We’ll find it, don’t worry,” Tony consoled. “How are we doing on time?”
“We still have another half hour before her appointment,” I admitted, “but that doesn’t take into account that we are supposed to be there 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork. So in reality we really only have 15 minutes to find this place.”
I turned again to look at the sleeping children in the backseat. This wild goose chase of a drive had come about because my oldest daughter, Becca, struggled with chronic asthma. When I had heard that a neighbor’s child had been all but cured by one of the local doctors, I had immediately called to make an appointment for my child.
The receptionist had firmly but calmly informed me that the doctor was no longer taking new patients, and that there was a long list of people who were waiting for an opening. Pride had flown out the window as I had begged and pleaded, and had somehow managed to convince the receptionist to find room for my child.
So I knew that it was paramount that my family arrived for the appointment on time. If we blew this chance, there was no way we would be given a second chance. Which is why I had allowed a full hour for what should have been a 10 minute drive.
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“Look! There’s the sign! This is it, turn right here!” Vanessa yelled frantically.
Tony jumped at the sudden loud sound of his wife’s voice, swerved to the right to make the requested turn, and then turned to look at her in surprise. Vanessa was usually much calmer than this.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell,” Vanessa admitted sheepishly as she noticed the expression on her husband’s face. She glanced toward the back of the car to see if she had upset the children who were being suspiciously quiet, and was relieved to find they had all fallen asleep.
“I am just so frustrated,” Vanessa continued quietly. “Do you realize we have been driving over half an hour, and we still cannot find that stupid road?”
“We’ll find it, don’t worry,” Tony consoled. “How are we doing on time?”
“We still have another half hour before her appointment,” Vanessa admitted, “but that doesn’t take into account that we are supposed to be there 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork. So in reality we really only have 15 minutes to find this place.”
Vanessa turned again to look at the sleeping children in the backseat. This wild goose chase of a drive had come about because her oldest daughter, Becca, struggled with chronic asthma. When Vanessa had heard that a neighbor’s child had been all but cured by one of the local doctors, she had immediately called to make an appointment for her child.
The receptionist had firmly but calmly informed Vanessa that the doctor was no longer taking new patients, and that there was a long list of people who were waiting for an opening. Vanessa had begged and pleaded, and had somehow managed to convince the receptionist to find room for her child.
So Vanessa knew that it was paramount that her family arrived for the appointment on time. If they blew this chance, there was no way they would be given a second chance. Which is why Vanessa had allowed a full hour for what should have been a 10 minute drive.
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I have to choose the person before the next rewrite, because it is time to choose a path.
In first person I can be friendlier and let the reader really know what is in the Vanessa’s head. But I won’t be able to give other people’s points of view.
In third person the reader will be kept at a greater distance, but can see from more angles.
What to do, what to do!