Monday, April 27, 2026

First Person Problems - by Matthew Greene


Which narrator do you prefer to write? To read? First or third? Which is more powerful? More trustworthy? Interesting? Easier to write? More fun to write?

As a playwright, I used to think first person narration would come most naturally to me. After all, I traffic in dialogue, putting words into the mouths of others. One of the more satisfying parts of the writing process, I think, is discovering a character's vocal tics and habits, expressing thoughts in a way I never would. I love writing dialogue in my books and stories—it's the part that feels most natural, that flows most easily.

My first book was written in first person, with that deep POV that's key to cozy mysteries. But early feedback from editors and beta readers gave me some alarming news: my protagonist's voice wasn't coming through! And here I thought "voice" was the one part of the prose puzzle that I wouldn't have to worry about. 

As I set out to remedy this problem, I did all the things you might expect. I read each chapter aloud, casting myself as Tasha Weaver. I broke up long, clinical paragraphs of narration, opting to let Tasha editorialize as she told the story. I studied reality TV and the "talking heads" that provide commentary and character simultaneously. And through it all, Tasha got her voice.

(Of course, when I look back at that novel and work on its follow-up, I can't help but cringe a bit at some of the blander passages and wonder if there was more I could have done to distinguish my amateur sleuth. But we live and learn.)

When the time came to start a new project, I defaulted to first person narration. I had some hard-won experience, and I wanted the narrative to feel human and dynamic. But much to my dismay, I started feeling the same issues sprouting up. This protagonist's voice was flat and uninspired, recounting events rather than experiencing them. That's when I realized something...

I was getting stuck on a very simple—and entirely too literal—question: If my protagonist is narrating the book, how is he doing so? Does he know she's narrating? Is he literally sitting down at a keyboard to type this out? What if my character doesn't like to write? Should I imagine him dictating these words, like he's being interviewed for a documentary? Was I overthinking all of this?

Like I said, I was approaching this too literally. Maybe it's the fault of literary adaptations on film, where the screenwriter justifies expository narration by cutting away to a shadowy figure typing out the story years later. But when I thought about the protagonists I know and love, it was hard to imagine most of them sitting down to write a 70,000 word account of their adventures. So, how could I justify doing so in their voice?

I started to wonder if this was solely a "me problem." But, as it turns out, there's a term to describe the technique that had proven so elusive: unmediated first person. While a lot of first person narratives do imagine a scenario in which the narrator is literally writing the account and is aware of their readers (epistolary novels, for example, or Watson's narration of Sherlock Holmes), many present a voice that is more oral or internal in nature (Huck Finn or Patrick Bateman come to mind). It takes a reader directly into the narrator's mind without fretting about the mechanics of how these words ended up on the page.

The magic of fiction—go figure!

This realization has been so freeing, as I embark on this new first person project. (For the record, I got about 30,000 words into a draft in third person before I realized I needed to make the switch. Again, we live and learn.) I'm enjoying getting into this character's head and letting his voice come through, unencumbered by my overthinking. As is usually the case, the best work tends to happen when I get out of my own way.

PS: In the meantime, I wrote a short story in epistolary form that was included in Malice Domestic's Mystery Most Senior anthology this year. It's a fun one, so check it out!

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