The ABCs of POV: First-Person Narration

Allison Alexander
Jul 3
4 min read

A person wearing a white sweater holding out a pair of glasses—a lake, trees, and grey sky in the background. — Photo by Maksim Goncharenok / Pexels.

Who is telling your story and how are they telling it? Perhaps you’ve thought about this and deliberately picked a narration style before you started writing; perhaps it hasn’t crossed your mind and you just write from a point of view (POV) that feels natural. Regardless, it’s useful to understand the different options and how they impact your story, so let’s dive in!

First-person narration uses “I” and “me” pronouns. It’s naturally limited, so the narrator can’t tell readers anything they don’t know. The narrator could be telling the story in the present, where readers are experiencing events along with them, or telling the story from a future point in their life. Usually, the narrator is the protagonist or someone close to the protagonist.

This is the most intimate POV. Readers get direct access to the narrator’s thoughts, feelings, opinions, and biases. I hesitate to list pros and cons of narration styles, because it’s all relative; what’s considered an advantage could also be a disadvantage depending on how it’s used and how the reader reacts to it. For example, getting this close to a narrator is a powerful tool that can encourage the reader to feel empathy, but readers may also baulk at first-person if they find the narrator annoying or unpleasant.

First-person may feel natural to write because it’s how we tell stories in regular life (“I went to the grocery store when…”). It’s common in YA novels, because it allows for an immediacy and emotionality that reflects the teenage experience, and in romance novels, because it allows for a deep-dive into the emotions of the love interests. Biased and unreliable narrators are also particularly effective in first-person.

Example of First-Person Narration

Here is an example of first-person narration from the fantasy YA novel Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson:

The passageway yawned beneath a fringe of dangling roots. I had approached it without thinking. I knew what I should do—I should go running back and alert Mother Katherine. But Sophia was too young to carry a dagger, and she’d lost her censer. There wasn’t time. I unhooked the censer that hung from my chatelaine. Gritting my teeth, I forced my clumsy fingers to open the tiny hatch and fumble with flint and incense. The scars were the worst on my left hand, where the shiny red tissue that roped my palm had contracted over time and pulled my fingers into permanent claws. I could close them into a loose fist, but I couldn’t open them all the way. As I worked, I thought of Sister Lucinde, who wore a ring set with an old, cracked ruby. The ring had a saint’s relic sealed inside, whose power allowed her to light candles with a mere gesture. Finally, the spark caught. I blew on the incense until embers flared. Then, wreathed in smoke, I stepped into the dark.

Write What Your Narrator Knows

When writing in first-person or from a limited perspective, keep in mind what your narrator would be thinking about in a given moment. The above snippet is a perfect example of how to do this effectively; when referring to walking up to a passageway, the narrator doesn’t say, “I approached it without thinking,” because if she wasn’t thinking about it, how could she be narrating that in the present? Instead, she says “I had approached it without thinking” (emphasis added), realizing that she had been on autopilot up to this point.

Then, she talks about what she should do (go back to alert an authority about possible danger), but rationalizes her decision not to because a friend is in danger and there isn’t time. If those thoughts hadn’t been disclosed to the reader, her actions might feel illogical and stupid, but because we understand her thought process, we’re along for the ride as she dives into danger.

It’s common for writers to toss in worldbuilding information or backstory without considering why the narrator would be disclosing that information at that particular moment. For example, say the narrator is sitting on the bus going to school, stressed about the classmate they want to impress, and then suddenly starts thinking about how some people have magic powers in this world and how these abilities work. That could feel out of place and forced. If, however, the narrator just witnessed their seatmate throwing a fireball out the window, or they’re stressed about the magic exam they’re about to take, they would have a logical reason to be thinking about that topic.

The above sample from Vespertine also showcases how to do this effectively; the narrator thinks about how someone she knows can light candles using magic. This is a perfectly logical train of thought, because she is fumbling to light a censer at the time.

In Conclusion

If you want your readers to feel what the narrator is feeling, write a character with a unique, distinct voice, and limit your reader’s access to information, first-person might be an ideal choice for your novel. However, if you want to withhold information the narrator knows from the reader, narrate scenes that the narrator isn’t present for, or write from a more unpalatable character’s perspective that readers may not enjoy being so cozied up to, another POV might be more suitable.