Want to level up your writing? Want to connect with your readers? Want to submerge in your character’s mind?

The good news is that all three things are super achievable in three easy steps. I’m serious! The title isn’t clickbait, just a tried and trusted method to grow as a writer. All we need to do is write from a deeper point of view (from here on POV).

What is deep POV?

We achieve a deep POV when we ‘mute’ the author’s voice and allow the reader to submerge completely in the character’s viewpoint. The reader will experience what the character experiences, physically and emotionally, and learn new information as the character learns. 

Simply put, the writer shows more and tells less.

This writing style works best with either first or third points of view, though someone out there will surely crack the code and apply these principles to omniscient points of view. 🤣

We can address three things to achieve deep POV: remove the passive voice, cut filter words, and examine the use of common nouns vs proper nouns.

Remove Passive Voice

In an active voice sentence, the subject acts upon the object of the sentence. The girl kisses the boy. The girl, in this case, is the subject. She’s acting—kisses—and the boy is the object receiving the action—he’s the one being kissed.

In a passive voice sentence, the order switches, and now the subject is acted upon by the object. The boy is kissed by the girl. The object will start the sentence (the boy), a form of ‘to be’ is added in front of the verb (is), the verb itself changes to the past participle tense (kisses to kissed), the word ‘by’ is added after the verb, and the subject ends off the sentence. That’s a mouthful, but you’ll pick it up without having to overthink it.

What is a form of ‘to be’? A word like is, was, being, have been, etc, will lead the verb.

Sometimes, there’s a reason to use the passive voice. We can break most style rules if we have a reason.

However, overusing passive voice tends to bore the reader. There’s no sense of action because the subject isn’t doing anything, and it might feel like the plot isn’t moving.

Imagine someone with a short temper arguing with a passive person. The passive person will most likely not be the one causing the action.  Active and passive voices come down to the same thing.

Additionally, I’ve learned that cutting out the word ‘was’ (or any to be) does wonders for tighter writing, even in active voice sentences. Again, not always, but it works for the most part.

Example. Nathan sighed as he was walking into the common room. Cara was sinking into her usual chair at the table, and Pointy and Jerry were seated on either side of her. Jerry was swatted by Pointy because he was eating like a pig.

Let’s try that again, but we’ll remove ‘to be’ and the passive voice. We’ll also employ descriptive verbs.

Nathan sighed as he strode into the common room. Cara sank into her usual chair, wedged between Pointy and Jerry. A blob of porridge fell on the table as Jerry dodged Pointy’s swatting hand and stuffed another spoonful into his mouth.

See how the scene has more impact? We fully submerge into Nathan’s POV, we experience what he experiences in real-time, and the scene flows faster.

My theory is that repetitions, even the little words we use most, become monotonous. Certain words are supposed to be ‘invisible’ to the reader, but even those words will become the melody of a familiar lullaby when used too often.

“I love you,” Mark said.

“I love you too,” Laura said. 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Mark said. 

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Laura said. 

“You won’t need to ask when I do,” Mark said. 

“You’re so romantic,” Laura said. 

“I want to claw my eyes out,” Yolandie said. Said is supposed to be an invisible word, but it pops off the page to annoy our readers when we overuse it.

The constant use of any word has the same boring effect as the passive voice. By removing ‘to be’, our writing becomes tighter, and the reader walks more comfortably in the character’s shoes.

Cut Filter Words

What are filter words?Any word the author uses to explain the character’s senses or feelings, usually preceding an action, description, or thought. Filter words include see, hear, think, feel, and many others (here’s a list).

Example. Cara looked back and saw Nathan coming into the common room. She heard his low sigh and wondered what the sigh was about, shaking her head. She felt a splinter stick into her thigh when she sat in her usual chair.

When we remove the filter words, we submerge in Cara’s POV and streamline our writing.

Cara glanced over her shoulder. Nathan strode into the common room, sighing under his breath. What’s that about? She shook her head and sat. A pinpoint of fire shot up her thigh—that damn splinter.

Stronger verbs almost always tighten our writing. Instead of saying she heard loud thunder, using a verb to describe the thunder has more of an impact – thunder crashed. Let the verb do the work! The reader will better visualise what the character is doing/experiencing.Bonus—we’ll also cut those pesky -ly modifiers. He walks angrily, versus he stomps. We can visualise stomping, right? Fewer words to paint a clearer picture.

Common Nouns or Proper Nouns

Ugh, common nouns were my bane as a fledgeling author!

Using a common noun instead of a proper noun can pull a reader from a deep POV, but also has the power to root them in the character’s head. How?

When I think about my husband (common noun), I think of him as Jan (proper noun). I don’t think of him as the man (though he totally is ) or my husband or my daughter’s dad. From my POV, he’s Jan.

When I talk to people about him, I use his name. The only exception is when I talk about him to people who don’t know him, in which case, he’s ‘my husband’.

Before I know someone’s name (the proper noun), I’ll think of them as *insert common noun here* because it’s my mind’s way of describing someone yet unnamed. But when I know their name, I keep thinking of them by their name. Human, animal or place, this applies to everything.

Cara and Nathan know each other. She won’t think of him as the physician with the grey eyes, the tall physician, or Magnus’s son but as Nathan. She might refer to him as the physician in speech but will use his name in thought.

The same goes for Sera and her cat, Kida. Sera won’t think of Kida as the cat, the black-and-white feline, the rat-catcher, or whatever—the cat is always Kida in Sera’s head.

Example. The tall physician explained the lesson to Cara. She yawned. She and the old man had been up all night, working through her notes from the slum physician.

The writing is tighter when we use proper nouns instead.

Nathan explained the lesson to Cara. She yawned. She and Magnus had been up all night, working through her notes from Ahmed.

If Cara keeps referring to people and places she knows by their common nouns, I’m reaching in with my grubby author’s hand and yanking the reader out of her POV. It’s like an unmute button for the authorial voice—the opposite of what I want. And, as you can tell, this is one of the quickest corrections that almost always tightens writing.

By the way, if you’d like to learn more about Cara, Nathan, Pointy, and the other names you read in this post, check out my debut novel, A Study of Ash & Smoke.

That’s all I have for you today. Have some tips to share? Let’s connect! I love hearing from you.

Until next time!

Yolandie