TheNovelist2000
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- Jan 30, 2025
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I've chosen a third-person omniscient point of view for my story because there's a lot of world-building and lore to explain. However, it's starting to backfire in Chapter 3. This chapter is supposed to focus on Anne being accused of murder and the impromptu trial that takes place aboard the ship.
I began the chapter with a bird's-eye view, describing how the main deck is being prepared for the trial and how the crowd is gathering. Since various witnesses are brought in and out of the forecastle deck throughout the trial, I maintained that distant perspective. But that wide view is reducing the emotional impact of Anne’s experience.
To address this, I started dipping into Anne’s fears and anxieties. At the same time, another character, Luca, needs to notice that Anne’s father, Anselmo, is missing from the crowd. This discovery will lead into another subplot involving Anselmo’s plan to blow up the ship.
Now that I’ve written the chapter, it just doesn’t feel like it’s coming alive. It’s not popping. On top of that, I’m running into issues with head-hopping.
As experienced authors, how would you resolve these issues? What is the preferred POV for a chapter like this? Should everything be filtered through Anne like in a 3rd person limited?
Excerpt: (The whole chapter doesn't fit in this thread)
This is an example of the distant bird eye's view I wrote.
The morning came, and the whole crew—except for the helmsman at the stern—gathered on the main deck. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, and sprays of seawater lashed against the men standing near either gunwale.
Luca himself stood near the main mast, surrounded by his men, with Anne kept close at his side—a quiet insurance in case the tide turned against him. His gaze was fixed on Anselmo, who stood opposite, his back to the forecastle deck. Anselmo, in turn, had his eyes locked on his daughter, while Anne kept her gaze shifting between the sky and the deck beneath her feet.
Standing on the forecastle deck was Señor Gaspar Villanueva—a private notary clerk travelling from Puerto San Julián to Paita. Due to his legal background, he had been chosen amongst the passengers to oversee the trial. With his ledger tucked beneath one arm and his quill case strapped to his belt, Gaspar was the closest thing to law aboard La Fortuna Dorada. Though no officer, the crew respected him enough to trust his hand in recording every testimony.
“Let’s get the rules clear first,” Gaspar called out from the forecastle deck, his voice carrying over the gathered crew. “I’ll summon one man at a time to come forward and stand here to give testimony — for or against whomever they choose. Questions will be asked, and testimonies weighed.” He cleared his throat, glancing down at his notes and the speech he’d prepared beforehand.
“Then, the jury—which will be all of you—will decide to either accept or reject each testimony. Every accepted testimony shall count as one vote toward a man’s guilt. And when the counting is done…” Gaspar’s voice dropped a little. “The man with the most votes against him shall walk the plank.”
This is a scence in the middle of the chapter between Anne and Luca during the trial break.
Back in the great cabin, Anne was worried. She wasn’t worried because she was naked. She wasn’t worried because she was bent over Luca’s table with her hands behind her back. She wasn’t worried because the cabin boy Dandy was knocking on the door, perhaps to deliver Luca’s lunch. She was worried because of the trial.
“What if they find out?” she whispered, her voice low, her hands clenched into fists in the small of her back. “What if someone says something they shouldn’t?”
She felt Luca’s hands that were keeping her ass cheeks apart pulled back as she heard him stepping towards the cabin door. “Is he gonna let the boy come in?” She wondered. The shame of being seen was only trumped by the fear of somebody squeaking at the trial.
She heard Luca opening the door, saying “Give me the platter and scram.”
Then came the sound of the door closing.
The wooden platter was set on the table beside Anne, and she could see the contents — bread, salted meat, and wine. Luca tore off a piece of bread, and then she felt it — the coarse crust being swiped against her cunt, her wetness likely soaking into the rough surface.
This is when I dipped into the head of Luca because the plot needs him to notice Anselmo missing.
Luca looked at Anne from his bench, with no intention of giving out the pardon he had promised. In fact, what he promised was impossible. Not only would people disagree with him that the person who killed their late beloved captain and the young innocent apprentice should be pardoned, but they would also suspect him to be a co-conspirator.
He felt bad as one man from the crowd reached underneath the hem of her dress, saying “The whore isn’t wearing any undergarments.” Luca reached into the inside of his coat to feel Anne’s drawers, which he took from her during the trial break. It was still soaked with her wetness, and he remembered the petticoat that was still piled up on the cabin floor.
As Luca watched Anne, she stood there with her head down, tears rolling down her cheeks . “Captain, please”, she repeated. “Mercy!” He could only avert his gaze, her shrill voice breaking his heart.
I began the chapter with a bird's-eye view, describing how the main deck is being prepared for the trial and how the crowd is gathering. Since various witnesses are brought in and out of the forecastle deck throughout the trial, I maintained that distant perspective. But that wide view is reducing the emotional impact of Anne’s experience.
To address this, I started dipping into Anne’s fears and anxieties. At the same time, another character, Luca, needs to notice that Anne’s father, Anselmo, is missing from the crowd. This discovery will lead into another subplot involving Anselmo’s plan to blow up the ship.
Now that I’ve written the chapter, it just doesn’t feel like it’s coming alive. It’s not popping. On top of that, I’m running into issues with head-hopping.
As experienced authors, how would you resolve these issues? What is the preferred POV for a chapter like this? Should everything be filtered through Anne like in a 3rd person limited?
Excerpt: (The whole chapter doesn't fit in this thread)
This is an example of the distant bird eye's view I wrote.
The morning came, and the whole crew—except for the helmsman at the stern—gathered on the main deck. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, and sprays of seawater lashed against the men standing near either gunwale.
Luca himself stood near the main mast, surrounded by his men, with Anne kept close at his side—a quiet insurance in case the tide turned against him. His gaze was fixed on Anselmo, who stood opposite, his back to the forecastle deck. Anselmo, in turn, had his eyes locked on his daughter, while Anne kept her gaze shifting between the sky and the deck beneath her feet.
Standing on the forecastle deck was Señor Gaspar Villanueva—a private notary clerk travelling from Puerto San Julián to Paita. Due to his legal background, he had been chosen amongst the passengers to oversee the trial. With his ledger tucked beneath one arm and his quill case strapped to his belt, Gaspar was the closest thing to law aboard La Fortuna Dorada. Though no officer, the crew respected him enough to trust his hand in recording every testimony.
“Let’s get the rules clear first,” Gaspar called out from the forecastle deck, his voice carrying over the gathered crew. “I’ll summon one man at a time to come forward and stand here to give testimony — for or against whomever they choose. Questions will be asked, and testimonies weighed.” He cleared his throat, glancing down at his notes and the speech he’d prepared beforehand.
“Then, the jury—which will be all of you—will decide to either accept or reject each testimony. Every accepted testimony shall count as one vote toward a man’s guilt. And when the counting is done…” Gaspar’s voice dropped a little. “The man with the most votes against him shall walk the plank.”
This is a scence in the middle of the chapter between Anne and Luca during the trial break.
Back in the great cabin, Anne was worried. She wasn’t worried because she was naked. She wasn’t worried because she was bent over Luca’s table with her hands behind her back. She wasn’t worried because the cabin boy Dandy was knocking on the door, perhaps to deliver Luca’s lunch. She was worried because of the trial.
“What if they find out?” she whispered, her voice low, her hands clenched into fists in the small of her back. “What if someone says something they shouldn’t?”
She felt Luca’s hands that were keeping her ass cheeks apart pulled back as she heard him stepping towards the cabin door. “Is he gonna let the boy come in?” She wondered. The shame of being seen was only trumped by the fear of somebody squeaking at the trial.
She heard Luca opening the door, saying “Give me the platter and scram.”
Then came the sound of the door closing.
The wooden platter was set on the table beside Anne, and she could see the contents — bread, salted meat, and wine. Luca tore off a piece of bread, and then she felt it — the coarse crust being swiped against her cunt, her wetness likely soaking into the rough surface.
This is when I dipped into the head of Luca because the plot needs him to notice Anselmo missing.
Luca looked at Anne from his bench, with no intention of giving out the pardon he had promised. In fact, what he promised was impossible. Not only would people disagree with him that the person who killed their late beloved captain and the young innocent apprentice should be pardoned, but they would also suspect him to be a co-conspirator.
He felt bad as one man from the crowd reached underneath the hem of her dress, saying “The whore isn’t wearing any undergarments.” Luca reached into the inside of his coat to feel Anne’s drawers, which he took from her during the trial break. It was still soaked with her wetness, and he remembered the petticoat that was still piled up on the cabin floor.
As Luca watched Anne, she stood there with her head down, tears rolling down her cheeks . “Captain, please”, she repeated. “Mercy!” He could only avert his gaze, her shrill voice breaking his heart.
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