Eye of the Beholder: POV Choices from a #MFRW Author

When it comes to telling a story, POV (Point of View) plays a major part in order to “Tell the story right” as John Travolta says in the movie, Basic.

There are three POVs:

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First Person: Basically is I. I saw the cow jump over the moon.

Second person: This is You. This POV isn’t used much. You are dancing between beams of moonlight.

Third Person: Is She/He

In Third Person, you have Third person Omniscient and Third Person Limited. In Omniscient, the narrator sees all like God and Third Person Limited only sees himself but both POVs use He/ She.

Lachlan lingered in the courtyard. He refused to step inside. No doubt, he could find a widow to warm the night with. He just had to stay away from the Great Hall and Rowen. Damn, she was so beautiful sitting upon her horse. She was so near to him. He could have snatched her up and run away. He couldn’t go near her. He kicked at a rock. Why did MacLean have to permit the marriage here? –From Highland Scandal 

But this post isn’t about this. This is about my POV preference and it isn’t what you think.

As a Romance Author, I write in third person limited. But my favorite POV is first person POV. Some people say that it is a hard POV to tackle. For me though, I love it. You must have heard about Method acting where the actor transforms into his character. When I’m writing, I do Method Writing. I take on my character. Ever action my character takes is one that I have weighed based on backstory, character development, goals, and conflicts.

When I’m writing, I am escaping just as much as I hope my readers are too. Another reason I prefer firstperson is I don’t feel separate from my characters. Readers (even I) can feel that in the writing. I suppose the reason I like it some much is because I have a lot of practice writing in that POV. Since I first started writing back when I was a little girl, I always wrote in first-person.

So, do you have a preference in both reading and writing?

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Book Influence…Everyday for this #MFRW Historical Romance Author

We all know that books influence our lives. They can be the self-help books that help with various parts of our life or how-to books that can help with anything that troubles us. Those For Dummies books have certainly helped me.

But what about other books that’s purpose is to teach you, entertain you or anything else; do they have an influence in everyday life? The answer would be yes.

Throughout my life (am I sure I’m not the only one who feels this way) books have taught me life lessons, helped me see the world around me in a new way, opened my mind to something I never knew or just let me know that I wasn’t alone.

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One book I remember is still with me these years later and that book is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I was just a schoolgirl who had to read the Betty Smith’s novel for school. I remember looking at the cover and thinking this book has nothing to do with me. Oh no, another book for school that I do not want to be bothered with. I rather read something else like the Sweet Valley Series I loved.

After I read the first sentence I saw a piece of me in the father and mother. John and the mother (whatever her name was) were employed to clean schools. When in the empty schools, they would play out their dreams–dreams that saw them through the hard times, dreams that would never come true but dreams that were needed in their life to get through it.

My teachers always accused me of daydreaming and I was. I was weaving stories of a place where I far away from my everyday life, far from my desk and that school. My teachers made me feel like those daydreams were wrong. That me having dreams were wrong. They told me repeatedly that my dreams of writing were stupid and would never happen.

But that book told me differently and taught me that I wasn’t going to live my life without doing everything I could to make my dreams real. That I was worthy of a dream and worthy to make it come true. As we all do.

So every day, when I write that book influences me. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn changed me. I still have the book with its aged, urine-colored pages, dusty smell, and binding that cracks if I dare lift the ugly 80s cover. So I take it out every so often, stroke the cover and place it back so nothing happens to it.

There are many more books that influence me every day, books that have made me who I am and that list is too many to list. And every person has those books that have molded them into the person they are, so what book is it for you?

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All the money and time in the world…If

Just imagine…Oh, I would love to have all the time and money in the world. Now, what would I do with it? Boy, do I know the answer to that. This #MFRW author has thought about that question a lot.

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First, I would travel the world. Scotland, England, France, Spain, Germany, Australia, Argentina, Japan and on and on. I would have an extended visit, soaking up all the beauty. Then I would go home. My home base would a country home in Spain or France with countryside just stretching out to the horizon.

My home would be decorated as I have always wished. My bedroom would be a cozy, cushy place that cocoons me when I go to bed. I would have a library crammed with books. My office to write that overlooked my beautiful garden that hums from the bees and birds that have gathered. I would have someone cook and clean for me because first I do not want to eat my own cooking and as for cleaning, I don’t want to do that. I would share more but my dream home is my own escape and all mine.

Second, I would see that all my family had a lovely home and no stress about paying bills, paying for school or retirement. They would enjoy life.

Third, I would help people. Send kids to college, get homes for homeless, food for the hungry. I would use the money to help. Because people and animals just need a helping hand once in a while.

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As for time, I would spend it much as I do now. With my family and writing.

Yeah, so I don’t want much. Tell me what you would do with all the time and money in the world?

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Remember When…

I have fibromyalgia and my memory is garbage. I used to know weird facts that I couldn’t forget. I could spell any word and remember lines from any movie from just watching it once.

Now, I forget how to spell the very simple word the. I can’t recall what day it is and have struggled with many more things but I just can’t remember what all that is.

Which makes writing historical romance a difficulty when I’m trying to remember a historical fact that has flown from my mind. So I’m looking up things a great deal and repeatedly.

But I have a memory from my childhood that is my first one. In case you don’t know I am an Air Force brat. When I was about three years old, the Vietnam War had ended. And the soldiers were returning stateside. If you are old enough, you may remember that some American people treated these soldiers–let’s say badly. People spat on them, called them baby killers, and sneered at these men at the very least.

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Anyway, I was in Hawaii and the men were landing at Hickman Air Force base and my family–my dad, mom, brother and I–went to welcome them home. I remember sitting on my father’s shoulders with a small American flag in my hand that I waved about with glee. A helicopter landed and downtrodden, war-weary men stepped out. They hung their heads and on each of these men’s faces was a look of pure sadness, defeat, and something that I can only describe a crushed soul. They gave a half-smile and a nod of greeting as the adults said, “welcome home” and gave them supportive cuffs on the shoulder or back.

These many years later, I can never forget those men or those looks. It was seared into me. I didn’t understand the reasons for their demeanor but I knew that they were hurt–not physically but somewhere deep inside where some many who serve this nation have packed away their memories and emotions of fighting a war.

No matter that fibromyalgia is moving around the marbles in my head, I can never forget this memory. It is a part of me. And I’m thankful for it.

What is your first memory? Come on, tell me. After you do that don’t forget to check out the other blogs taking part in the #MFRW 52 week blog challenge.

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Love is…the story continues after all

man and woman holding each others hand wrapped with string lights
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I write romance novels like The Marriage Alliance  because I love a happy ending. I don’t know if I can blame Disney for that but whatever. Life has enough hardships and sadness that I refuse to spend my time writing something depressing.

As a reader, I too love a happily ever after. Perhaps, it’s silly but I believe in love. As a reader and writer, I love an epilogue. I want to see the characters that I have spent my time with to have their happy ending.

The epilogue for me as a writer is showing that all the struggles and fighting have been worth something that is special and continues to grow—that love never dies.

You see for me I know that love never dies. When I was a fifteen-year-old girl, I met the love of my life. At twenty, I lost him. He died and these twenty plus years, I still love him. I know that if he were still alive, we would be married and probably I would have some kids. That had been our plan. So, my happy ending didn’t come. And you might be saying then how can you still believe?

Easily. Because it wasn’t our love that ended. His life did. In all those years, we were together and the times we were apart our love continued. Our love still lives.

That is our epilogue.

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I could just eat it up. A Romance writer’s snack.

When I was a toddler in Hawaii, my Godsister Bonnie would feed me M&Ms.  I would put handfuls in my mouth and just let the chocolate melt until it ran from the sides of my mouth. My love affair with snacks started when I was very young.

I still love my M&Ms but I have transferred my preference to the peanut ones. I don’t buy them anymore because I will eat the whole bag in one go and that isn’t good for the hips and belly.

But that doesn’t mean that whenever I see the yellow bag that my heart doesn’t soar and I feel quite giddy that I can’t stop myself from smiling. Sometimes, I just touch the bag to get a little thrill.

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Me as an M&M when my hair was blonde.

My family knows that I will go crazy for them and do not buy them. But with the birth of my grandnephew, that changed. He loves them and of course, I cannot steal candy for a four-year-old boy. That is just sinful. But my little man is a sweet boy and shares them with me but not the red ones because that is his favorite color.

But I don’t mind. I put them in my mouth and let them melt and I am in heaven.

Now it’s your turn. Share your favorite snack and why?

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Norway, VMAs, and Animation

purple fireworks effect
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In 1986 the MTV hosted the Video Music Awards—the VMAs—my eleven-years-old self probably watched it. Now in 2018, I cannot be bothered to watch the VMAs, Grammys or the other award shows. I’m not going to waste hours on something that bore me to death.

But back then, I loved nothing more than Norwegian pop group A-ha. The comic book style animated video blew everyone’s head away and the song was and is great. These many decades later, I still listen to it and feel excited, want to dance and can’t help but sing along.

Here is the link for the video because I refuse to infringe on copyrights. I swear that you will love this song (on the off chance that you never heard it)

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djV11Xbc914&w=560&h=315]

Enjoy and try not to bob your head to the beat.

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