Point Of View: Part 2 – First Person POV

This entry is part 2 of 2 in the series Point of View

Point of View

A Comprehensive Introduction to Point Of View, Part 1

Point Of View: Part 2 – First Person POV

When I first started writing fiction, I thought “point of view” just meant whose story it was. Easy enough, right? But once I actually sat down to write my first novel in first person, I realised how much that perspective changes everything. Writing in first person isn’t just about swapping out they for I – it’s about living inside a character’s skin, feeling their heartbeat in every sentence, and letting readers see the world exactly as they do – flaws, blind spots, and all.

It’s intimate. It’s immersive. And, to be honest, it’s one of the most difficult perspectives to actually work convincingly.

There’s something deeply personal about first person storytelling. When I read novels written this way, I feel like I’m catching secrets whispered in my ear. The best first person narrators don’t just tell me what’s happening – they make me feel how it happens to them.

I still remember the first time I tried it. My protagonist was this anxious, sarcastic young woman trying to hold her life together after moving to a new city. Writing her story in third person felt clinical – like watching
someone through a window. But the moment I switched to first person, something clicked. Suddenly, her worries, her voice, her dry humour – they spilled naturally onto the page.

That’s when I realised – in first person, voice is the story. The plot, the tone, the pacing – they all orbit around how the narrator perceives their reality.

But, lets get a definition as to what ‘first person POV is?

First person POV is the narrative style where everything is told from one character’s perspective – usually our protagonist. The story unfolds through this character’s eyes and experiences, often using “I” to show readers their thoughts, feelings, and observations. This intimate viewpoint allows us to delve deep into a character’s psyche, making it an excellent tool for exploring complex characters with unique voices.

The superpower of subjectivity

Here’s what makes first person so powerful – everything the reader knows comes through a single consciousness. That’s both thrilling and limiting. You can’t show what the character doesn’t know. You can’t peek into another person’s mind. But you can give readers access to the deepest corners of your protagonist’s thoughts.

I like to think of first person as wearing tinted glasses, you know, the sort that changes their colour depending on the strength of the sunlight. The colour of the lens depends on who’s narrating. A cynical character might describe a sunny morning as “blinding and smug,” while an optimist would call it “a hopeful start.” Same world – completely different story.

That’s why unreliable narrators work so brilliantly in first person. You can play with perception, reveal biases, and make readers question what’s true. It’s the literary equivalent of giving your audience a puzzle that can only be solved through your character’s eyes.

The voice dilemma

Voice is everything in first person, and it’s one of those elements that either sings off the page or falls flat. If your narrator sounds too similar to every other character (or, worse, too much like you), the illusion shatters.

When I’m writing a first person narrator, I spend a lot of time just listening to them in my head. What words do they overuse? Do they ramble or get straight to the point? Do they swear under their breath or avoid harsh language entirely? Their vocabulary, rhythm, and emotional tone reveal who they are more than any description could.

I like to imagine that every character narrates as if they’re talking to someone specific – a friend, a diary, a future version of themselves, or even the reader directly. That kind of invisible audience shapes how they speak and what they choose to reveal.

This narrative style allows writers to develop distinct, quirky voices for their characters. The way they speak and think becomes an essential part of the storytelling process. For instance, a cynical detective might have a very different voice than a naive country girl. By mastering this unique voice, you can create memorable characters that readers will connect with on a deeper level.

Knowing when to step back

Of course, first person narration comes with its limitations – and learning when not to use it is just as important. It’s not the best fit for sprawling stories that need multiple perspectives or sweeping world-building details. When the entire world filters through one pair of eyes, you risk narrowing the scope too much.

I ran into that problem once writing a fantasy novel. My narrator was so focused on her own survival that she barely noticed the political chaos surrounding her. It made sense for her character, but as a result, readers missed world details I wanted to highlight. I eventually rewrote the story in alternating first person and third person, which gave me the texture I needed without losing her emotional depth.

However, first person POV isn’t for everyone or every story. Some narratives benefit more from third-person perspectives, which allow the author to switch between multiple points of view and provide a broader scope of events. In these cases, using first person might limit the narrative’s depth or make it difficult to convey certain plot elements effectively.

Sometimes you have to experiment until the story feels like it’s breathing properly.

The trap of overexposure

Another common mistake I made early on was over-explaining feelings. Because the narrator knows their own emotions, it’s tempting to write lines like, “I felt angry and betrayed.” But that’s telling, not showing. A first person POV lets you show that anger through what the narrator notices, says, or does. Maybe they slam a drawer shut mid-sentence, or their narration grows clipped and cold.

The beauty of first person lies in implication. Readers don’t need your narrator to label every emotion – they just need to feel it through the writing.

First person in genre fiction

I’ve seen first person used brilliantly across genres. In thrillers, it builds nail-biting suspense because readers only know what the protagonist knows – we’re stuck in the same fog of uncertainty. In romance, it creates instant intimacy. In fantasy and sci-fi, it grounds strange worlds in human perspective.

Each genre amplifies a different strength of first person storytelling. For me, the key is authenticity – whether it’s gritty realism or high-stakes adventure, the narrator’s voice has to feel like a living mind.

Thinking in “I”

Now whenever I start a new story, I ask myself one question: whose eyes should this story be told through? If I find myself hearing the story in a certain voice, chances are it’s meant to be first person.

Writing in first person doesn’t just change the story – it changes me as a writer. It forces empathy. It makes me step inside someone else’s world so completely that for a while, I forget my own. That’s the magic, I think – crafting a narrative so personal that readers see themselves reflected back in that “I.”

Some guidelines to help you

  1. Remember – you’re living inside the character: Writing in first person isn’t just switching to “I” or “me.” It’s about slipping completely into your character’s skin. You don’t just describe the world – you experience it through their senses, biases, and emotions.
    • Think of it this way: you’re not watching a film of your story. You’re holding the camera and narrating every frame from the character’s perspective. What do they notice first? What do they ignore? Those tiny choices reveal who they are.
  2. Nail the voice – it’s everything: First person works best when you give your narrator a unique voice that reflects their personality, background, and experiences. This helps readers connect emotionally with the story through their eyes. Readers need to hear your character, not just read the words.
    • Ask yourself:
      –  How does my character speak or think?
      – Do they use slang, sarcasm, short sentences, or flowery description?
      – What emotions sit just under their words – fear, pride, humour, regret?
    • A strong voice makes readers believe this person is real, even if the world around them isn’t.
  3. Show feelings, don’t announce them: Because readers are already inside your narrator’s head, you don’t need to spoon-feed emotions. Instead of writing “I felt scared,” try showing fear through action, tone, or fragmented thoughts:
    • My palms were slick, heart drumming too loudly for such a quiet street.
    • See the difference? Readers feel the fear rather than being told it’s there.
  4. Embrace the bias – it’s a feature, not a flaw: A first-person narrator is always biased – and that’s what makes them fascinating. They interpret events through their limited understanding of the world. They can be wrong. They can exaggerate. They can hide things (even from themselves).
    • Don’t try to make them perfectly objective. Lean into their perspective. Readers love piecing the truth together between what the narrator sees and what’s actually happening.
  5. Watch the “I” overload: Yes, it’s first person, but that doesn’t mean every sentence should start with “I.” Too much of that can sound repetitive (“I went… I saw… I thought… “).
    • Mix up sentence structure:
      – “The wind stung my face.”
      – “Couldn’t believe how quiet the town felt.”
      – “Every window was dark, except one.”
    • You’re still in the narrator’s head – just not drowning readers in pronouns.
  6. Keep the world through their eyes: In first person, you can only write what the narrator directly knows, senses, or suspects. No sneaky head-hopping into other people’s thoughts.
    • If they don’t see it, they can’t state it as fact – but they can guess or infer.“She said she was fine, but I didn’t buy it. Her smile was all wrong.”That line stays authentic to first person while still conveying insight.Don’t reveal other characters’ thoughts unless shared by those characters themselves.
  7. Make the reader wonder if they can trust the narrator: Some of the best first-person stories have unreliable narrators – characters who lie, misremember, or see the world through emotional distortion.You don’t need to write a full-blown psychological thriller to use this trick. Even subtle unreliability (like denial, selective memory, or overconfidence) adds depth. It keeps readers guessing: Is this really what happened?
  8. Use internal thoughts to deepen emotion: One of first person’s biggest perks is access to a character’s inner monologue. You can use thoughts to reveal the push and pull between emotion and action.For example:“I told him I didn’t care. I absolutely did.”Two short sentences – but they show conflict, sarcasm, and suppressed feeling all at once.
  9. Know when to pull back: First person can be too intense at times. If every paragraph is crammed with heavy introspection, readers can get exhausted.Balance internal thoughts with action, dialogue, and pacing changes. Give your character (and your reader) breathing space.
  10. Decide why you’re using it: Don’t choose first person just because it feels easy. Choose it because it serves the story.Ask yourself:
    – Does being inside one character’s head enhance the story’s tension or intimacy?
    – Does my character’s viewpoint hide or reveal key truths in an interesting way?If the answer’s yes, you’re on the right track.
  11. Experiment and revise: Play around with the voice and perspective until it feels right for your story. Remember that choosing the correct POV is crucial to telling your story effectively, so don’t be afraid to revise or try different approaches.

Common mistakes to avoid

1. Overusing “I” at the start of every sentence: When writing in first person, it’s natural to lean on “I” as a crutch. The problem is, too many “I did, I saw, I thought” sentences in a row make the prose feel flat and mechanical.

What this looks like on the page

I walked up the path. I could feel my heart racing. I heard a noise behind me. I turned around quickly.

Technically fine. Stylistically dull. Readers start to feel like they’re reading a diary entry instead of living a story.

How to fix it

Vary sentence openings with setting, action, or sensory detail.

Let the world take centre stage sometimes, even though it’s filtered through the narrator.

Rewritten example

Gravel crunched under my boots, loud in the quiet. My heart hammered against my ribs. A branch snapped behind me. I spun around.

Still first person, still in the character’s head – but no longer chained to “I” as the opening word every time.

2. Telling instead of showing emotions: First person gives full access to a character’s feelings, so it’s tempting to spell them out: “I was angry,” “I felt scared,” “I was devastated.” The downside is that this flattens emotion into labels instead of making readers feel it.

The problem version

I was furious. I felt betrayed and hurt. I couldn’t believe she’d done that to me.

It’s clear, but not vivid.

The “show, don’t tell” approach

Instead of naming the emotion, show how it feels in the body, thoughts, or behaviour.

Heat rushed to my face. The room shrank to just her, still smiling like it was nothing. My fingers curled around the edge of the table until my knuckles went white.

No one says “I’m furious,” but the reader feels it.

Quick tip

– Use physical sensations, involuntary reactions, and sharp internal observations.
– Save direct emotion labels (“I was terrified”) for sparse, high-impact moments.

 

  1. Forgetting the narrator’s bias: In first person, the narrator is not objective reality – they’re a filter. Everything on the page is coloured by their personality, history, mood, and blind spots.

A common mistake is writing descriptions that feel detached and neutral, as if a camera were filming instead of a person noticing.

Too neutral

The house was large, with white walls and a red roof. The garden was overgrown.

This could be any POV. There’s no sense of who’s looking.

With bias and personality

The house loomed over us, all white walls and sharp corners, like it resented being touched. The garden hadn’t just been neglected; it looked like it was planning a coup.

Same house, completely different experience. The second version shows what the narrator is like as much as what the house is like.

Why this matters

  • Bias makes narrators feel human.
  • It opens the door to unreliable narration, where the reader slowly realises the narrator might not be telling the complete truth – or even understand it them-self.
  1. Head-hopping or knowing too much: First person is limited: if your narrator didn’t see it, hear it, or plausibly learn it, they can’t report it as fact. A common mistake is quietly slipping in information that only an outside observer – or another character – would know.

Problem examples

She stared out the window, thinking about the night we first met.

Across town, Mark paced his office, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

In the first line, the narrator claims to know exactly what another character is thinking. In the second, the narrator suddenly knows what’s happening in a place they’re not present. Both break the logic of first person.

How to fix it

  • Use inference instead of certainty.
  • Keep off-page events unknown or discovered later.

Rewritten example

She stared out the window, her fingers tracing circles on the glass. If she was thinking about the night we first met, she gave nothing away.

Mark didn’t pick up my calls all day. For all I knew, he was pacing his office again, chewing through another set of nerves.

The narrator can guess, suspect, or imagine – but not state hidden facts as truth.

And avoid switching between characters’ thoughts within the same scene without signalling the change. Stick with one character’s perspective at a time and use dialogue or action to convey other characters’ emotions or reactions.

  1. Making the narration too self-aware: One of first person’s superpowers is access to thoughts. One of its biggest risks is too much thinking. Readers can end up trapped in the character’s head while the story stalls.

What this looks like

  • Long paragraphs of analysis after every line of dialogue.
  • Overexplaining motivations that are already clear from action.
  • Digressions that don’t serve the scene’s emotional or narrative purpose.

Example (overdone)

I didn’t answer right away. I’ve always had trouble making decisions under pressure, ever since I was a kid and my parents would fight about the smallest things. Maybe that’s why I hate confrontation now. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, so I just sat there.

There’s insight here, but it stalls the scene.

Tighter version

I didn’t answer right away. My tongue felt thick, like it always did when someone cornered me. Saying the wrong thing suddenly felt more dangerous than saying nothing at all.

We still get hesitation and backstory flavour, but the moment stays in the present, not buried under a flashback-sized explanation.

How to balance it

  • Think in beats: action -> reaction (a line or two of thought) -> next action.
  • Keep deep dives in emotion for truly important moments – turning points, confrontations, revelations.
  1. Consider multiple first person POVs: If you want to show different perspectives, consider multiple first-person narrators instead of switching between them within a story. This helps maintain reader immersion and avoid confusion.

Important – When using first person POV in fiction, try to:

  • Let “I” be present but not dominate every opening.
  • Show emotions through body, behaviour, and sensory detail rather than labelling them.
  • Filter the world through your narrator’s biases instead of neutral description.
  • Respect what they can and cannot know.
  • Use inner thoughts with intention, not as a default floodgate.

Handle these areas with care, and your first person narrator will feel less like a reporting device and more like a living, breathing human – flawed, vivid, and impossible to look away from.

10 Key takeaways

  1. Voice is everything: First person isn’t just about saying I. It’s about capturing how your narrator thinks, talks, and sees the world. A strong voice pulls readers in like they’re reading a private diary. Ask yourself: Would someone recognise my narrator’s voice if their name were removed? If the answer’s yes, you’re golden.
  2. The character’s bias is the story: Your narrator isn’t objective – and that’s the fun part. Their opinions, blind spots, and assumptions colour every detail. Two characters could describe the same room completely differently, and that contrast is storytelling magic. So lean into your narrator’s subjective truth.
  3. Show feelings, don’t announce them: In first person, you don’t have to write “I was angry” or “I felt scared.” Instead, show what that anger or fear does to the narrator – their body, their thoughts, their choices. Readers connect more deeply when they feel emotions between the lines, not when emotions are simply named.
  4. Stay true to what the narrator knows: First person is limited – your narrator can’t know what others are thinking or what’s happening off-screen. Keep the perspective tight. If they didn’t see it, hear it, or infer it, don’t state it as fact. That limitation is what keeps the voice honest and immersive.
  5. Balance thought and action: Because you’re inside the narrator’s head, it’s easy to get stuck in their thoughts. Too much introspection, though, can slow the story down. Mix inner reflection with physical action, dialogue, and sensory detail. Think of it like a heartbeat: inward (emotion), then outward (action) – a rhythm that keeps your story alive.
  6. Intimacy and immediacy: First-person narration provides an intimate view of the protagonist’s world, allowing readers to feel closely connected with the character. This immediacy helps engage readers and makes them more invested in the story.
  7. Characterisation through language: The language used by a first person narrator should reflect their personality, background, and experiences. This allows readers to understand the character better while also enriching the narrative.
  8. Limited perspective: First-person POV limits what readers can know or experience, as they are only privy to information available to the narrating character. This creates a sense of mystery and encourages readers to interpret other characters’ actions and thoughts based on their dialogue and body language.
  9. Consistency in narration: Maintain consistency in using “I” for both narration and dialogue, avoiding phrases like “said John,” which would switch to third-person perspective. This helps maintain the first person POV throughout the story.
  10. Introspection and emotional depth: First-person narrative allows authors to delve into a character’s thoughts, feelings, and internal conflicts more deeply. Use this opportunity to create emotionally rich scenes that help readers empathise with the protagonist and become invested in their journey.

Conclusion

In conclusion, first person POV is an intimate, engaging way to tell a story that allows readers to connect with characters on a deeper level. It requires careful consideration and mastery of voice but can result in richly layered narratives that linger long after the final page has been turned. So next time you pick up a book or sit down to write your own, consider how this perspective might enhance your storytelling experience!

                  Point of View

                  A Comprehensive Introduction to Point Of View, Part 1

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