{"id":13957,"date":"2015-11-27T01:00:47","date_gmt":"2015-11-27T09:00:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/writersfunzone.com\/blog\/?p=13957"},"modified":"2015-11-30T05:49:51","modified_gmt":"2015-11-30T13:49:51","slug":"characters-and-their-sensory-limitations-pov-and-description-by-susanne-lakin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/writersfunzone.com\/blog\/2015\/11\/27\/characters-and-their-sensory-limitations-pov-and-description-by-susanne-lakin\/","title":{"rendered":"Characters and Their Sensory Limitations: POV and Description by Susanne Lakin"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"5<\/a>Today we welcome a new guest writer to Writer\u2019s Fun Zone, Susanne Lakin,\u00a0who is stopping by to chat with us today about \u201cCharacters and Their Sensory Limitations: POV and Description.\u201d \u00a0Enjoy!<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Few writers pay much attention to character placement, but this is something of paramount concern to filmmakers, and a subject I cover in depth in Shoot Your Novel<\/em>.<\/strong> A director has to lay out his camera shots, deciding when a close-up shot would be more effective than a long shot, for example. He may want the camera positioned far away from the action, to make details unclear and evoke curiosity or misinterpretation. Or he may have an extreme close-up to ensure viewers don\u2019t miss a tiny detail that is crucial to the plot.<\/p>\n

Adept novelists mimic this technique in their books to good effect. But if writers don\u2019t think through where they are placing their characters, they may end up with description issues. Meaning, their character is reacting to and processing details that she really can\u2019t react to or process\u2014due to where she is in the scene.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s what I mean.<\/h2>\n

Before:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Tracy stared out the windshield of her old VW bug at the red light. Would it never change?<\/p>\n

Then she spotted a boy about seven or eight across the four-lane intersection<\/strong>, pounding on the Walk button over and over. He was humming something as he poked, straddling a too-large bike, with his new Nikes digging into the dirt. He looked at his feet, obviously unaware that all his button pressing was preventing the light from changing.<\/p>\n

Tracy gritted her teeth, then swung the door open. The heat blasted in. She glanced around. No other cars on this Sunday morning in this tiny town she\u2019d been driving through mindlessly.<\/p>\n

She stepped out onto the sizzling pavement.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The boy looked up and saw her glowering at him. His face paled and he sucked in a breath, no doubt figuring how to make his escape. He hopped on his bike but didn\u2019t see the crack in the pavement. His front tire slipped in and wrenched the bike, which caused it to ricochet off the pavement. The boy slammed into the handlebars, which smacked him right in the nose, breaking it.<\/p>\n

He quickly righted himself and looked up to see if she\u2019d witnessed his mishap and flushed almost purple when he realized she had.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mortified, and desperate to get away, he pulled with all his might and managed to lift the front wheel up above his head so he could pivot the bike around, but as he did so, the bike and its rider fell to the ground. He lay on the smoldering pavement like a fish out of water, wiggling and thrashing, his little legs tangled up in the metal spokes.<\/p>\n

Then Tracy spotted something in the corner of her eye. She spun around. Behind her<\/strong>, the car lurched forward, almost knocking her down.<\/p>\n

Oh no, I forgot to put the car in Park.<\/em><\/p>\n

She ran over to her car door, hoping to jump inside, but smacked into it instead. Her right foot locked as the tire rolled over her shoelace and pinned her in place. She fell to her knees and watched helplessly as the unmanned car continued rolling across the street, heading straight for the little boy who was still flailing about beneath the giant bike, his face stricken with fear.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet up! Get out of the way!\u201d<\/strong> She screeched as she struggled to her feet and scrambled to run after the car. Judging the distance between the car and boy, she knew she was never going to make it.<\/p>\n

The boy wiggled and whimpered as Tracy ran, panting, trying to reach him.<\/p>\n

Just in time<\/strong>, she caught up to the rolling car, threw open the door, lunged over the seat, and pulled up the emergency brake. She stared out the windshield, gasping for breath. The boy\u2019s bike was mangled under her tires. The handlebars were crushed.<\/p>\n

Tracy turned around and saw the little boy sitting on the curb across from her, his head buried in his arms, trying not to cry. She ran over to him, relieved he was alive.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/strong> she asked him.<\/p>\n

He nodded but wouldn\u2019t lift his head to look at her.<\/p>\n

She let out a breath<\/strong>, her shoulders sagging. \u201cI\u2019m sorry about your bike. I\u2019ll buy you another one.\u201d<\/p>\n

Did you spot all the problems with the description in this passage? At first glance it may seem as if it all works. But let\u2019s take a look at the After passage and then tear this apart.<\/p>\n

After:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Tracy stared out the windshield of her old VW bug at the red light. Would it never change?<\/p>\n

Then she spotted a boy about seven or eight across the four-lane intersection<\/strong>, pounding on what she guessed was the Walk button over and over. He was straddling a too-large bike, kicking one foot into the dirt. He looked down, obviously unaware that all his button pressing was preventing the light from changing.<\/p>\n

Tracy gritted her teeth, then swung the door open. The heat blasted in. She glanced around. No other cars on this Sunday morning in this tiny town she\u2019d been driving through mindlessly.<\/p>\n

She stepped out onto the sizzling pavement.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The boy looked up and saw her glowering at him. He stiffened, then hopped on his bike. Suddenly the bike toppled sideways and ricocheted off the pavement. The boy slammed into the handlebars and smacked his face.<\/p>\n

He quickly righted himself and looked over at her.<\/strong> Then he lifted the front wheel up above his head and pivoted the bike around, but as he did so, the bike and its rider fell to the ground. He lay on the pavement like a fish out of water, wiggling and thrashing, his little legs tangled up in the metal spokes.<\/p>\n

Then Tracy heard something behind her. She spun around and saw the car lurching forward, almost knocking her down.<\/p>\n

Oh no, I forgot to put the car in Park.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

She ran over to her car door, hoping to jump inside, but smacked into it instead. Her right foot locked as the tire rolled over her shoelace and pinned her in place. She fell to her knees and watched helplessly as the unmanned car continued rolling across the street, no doubt heading straight for the little boy. Was he still tangled in his bike? She hoped he\u2019d gotten out but knew it was unlikely.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet up! Get out of the way!\u201d<\/strong> She screeched as she struggled to her feet and scrambled to run after the car. Judging the distance between the car and boy, she knew she was never going to make it. Across the intersection, she spotted the boy\u2014still trapped. Tracy ran, panting, trying to reach him.<\/p>\n

Just in time, she caught up to the rolling car, threw open the door, lunged over the seat, and pulled up the emergency brake. She stared out the windshield, gasping for breath. The boy\u2019s bike was nowhere to be seen. Oh no, did I kill him?<\/em> She pictured the gruesome scene\u2014the bike mangled under her wheels, the handlebars crushed. And the little boy .\u00a0.\u00a0.<\/p>\n

Tracy turned around in the seat<\/strong>, craning to see out the side windows. Oh, thank God!<\/em> The little boy was sitting on the curb across from her, his head buried in his arms. She ran over to him, relieved he was alive.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay?\u201d she asked him.<\/p>\n

He nodded but wouldn\u2019t lift his head to look at her.<\/strong><\/p>\n

She let out a breath, her shoulders sagging. \u201cI\u2019m sorry about your bike. I\u2019ll buy you another one.\u201d<\/p>\n

The details might be minor,<\/strong> but we want to be accurate in our descriptions, and the Before passage reveals a lot of problems as the scene is played out in Tracy\u2019s POV. Did you notice these things?<\/p>\n