My Favorite POV (point of view)? to Write? By Connie Vines. #Writing Tips, #POV, #Round Robin Blog #Dark Winds

Character Arc and How it Ties into Yo... Spotlight on Author Deirdre O'Dare By...

My Favorite POV (point of view)? to Write? By Connie Vines. #Writing Tips, #POV, #Round Robin Blog #Dark Winds

This month’s topic: What is Your Favorite POV (point of view) to Write? Why?

My favorite POV is a first-person narrative. It works best when writing YA/MG fiction or a RomCom novella.

Why?

Because it builds a rapport with readers by sharing a personal story directly with them. Bringing the reader close like this makes a story—and storyteller—creditable. I find this especially so when writing a historical novel.

Excerpt from Tanayia: Whisper upon the Water, First Peoples Series.

Prologue

1868

The Governor of New Mexico decreed that all Indian children over six be educated in the ways of the white man.

Indian Commissioner, Thomas Morgan, said, “It is cheaper to educate the Indians than to kill them.”

1880, Apacheria, Season of Ripened Berries

Isolated bands of colored clay on white limestone remain where the sagebrush is stripped from Mother Earth by sudden storms and surface waters. Desolate. Bleak. A land made of barren rocks and twisted paths that reach out into silence.

A world of hunger and hardship. This is my world. I am Tanayia. I was born thirteen winters ago. We call ourselves N’dee, The People. The white man calls us Apache.

Chapter One

Only a soft light from the east lit the dirt path I soon would walk. I rose from my blanket and dressed in my favorite buckskins and moccasins. After combing my hair, I stepped from my wickiup and walked toward the center of camp. Women from neighboring Apache bands, dressed in their best clothing, squatted around their campfires, patting tortillas and fry bread. My relations traveled great distances to share my coming-of-age ceremony. I am proud and happy. I smile and call out my morning greeting, ya'atche."

"Many blessings, my child," several replied as I passed.

The sharp scent of crisp dough and the bitter scent of acorn stew floated in the cool air. My stomach grumbled in hunger. Large feasts, such as the one my people prepared today, are no longer common. Grandmother, Ligai Tlenaai- White Moon, however, remembers the long-ago days when her band feasted at each change of season. She told me of times when food was plentiful.....