Tuesday, February 20, 2007

POV Test

I have written a section I am working on for The Strand. (It's an earlier section.) Please, let me know which works best.

Third Person, Limited:

They were on the brink. She could feel it, as she walked down Strand under the dower English sky, Charles closer than necessary at her side. They were talking, of all things, about Tomas More’s Utopia.

“A walk doesn’t equal love,” Haylee reminded herself. “I fall in love a dozen time a day but always with this man. This not-my-husband man.”

Charles was holding forth on the Utopian alphabet of the 1515 first edition. She felt an urge to shake him, to say, “This is our moment. Don’t you see?” so as to confirm the pivotal nature of the current instant. Instead, Charles stopped.

Haylee, are you all right? You seem to have gone a bit pale.”

“Quite. It’s just the chill of fall, I guess.”

“I have to run,” Charles said seemingly suddenly, turning toward the curb.

The moment fractured, as Haylee followed, taking his hand lightly.

“Please,” she said, suddenly breathless, “I don’t want you to go.”

Third Person, Omniscient:

They were on the brink. She could feel it, as she walked down Strand under the dower English sky, Charles purposely closer than necessary at her side. They were talking, of all things, about Tomas More’s Utopia.

“A walk doesn’t equal love,” Haylee reminded herself. “I fall in love a dozen time a day but always with this man. This not-my-husband man.”

Charles was holding forth on the Utopian alphabet of the 1515 first edition, thinking, “I must impress her,” over and over again in his mind. Wishing to talk of nothing but a trip back up The Strand to his office at the College. In Charles’ mind, he was laying Haylee down in his mind, unbuttoning her beige cardigan, reciting John Donne. He had always wanted to make love reciting John Donne’s Unholy Sonnets, had waited his whole life for a woman with whom he felt he could do that. And into that fantasy Haylee stepped, mind ablaze with Mallory and Tennyson, more specifically to him, mind ablaze with romance.

Parallel, Haylee walked filled with thought. She felt a sudden urge to shake Charles, so seemingly involved with More, to say, “This is our moment. Don’t you see?” so as to confirm the pivotal nature of the current instant. Instead, Charles stopped, Haylee looked distracted and disinterested. He felt his middle go hollow in realization; she, a married woman, would never care for him.

Haylee, are you all right? You seem to have gone a bit pale,” Charles said, attempting to gain equanimity.

“Quite. It’s just the chill of fall, I guess.”

They were lying to each other, living the romances of which they were so fond.

“I have to run,” Charles said seemingly suddenly, turning toward the curb, the recent realization of Haylee’s unavailability leading him to crave solitude.

The moment fractured, as Haylee followed, making herself act out of the feeling of necessity that this time with Charles had created in her. She took his hand lightly.

“Please,” she said, suddenly breathless, “I don’t want you to go.”


First Person:

I know it. We are on the brink. Charles and I, walking down The Strand in the gosh-it’s-cold-and-I-want-his-arms-wrapped-tight-tight-around-me. I want to tell myself a walk isn’t love, but I know that I keep falling in love with this man a dozen times a day. Now, here, this is time with Charles, time without Sheldon of the pushed tea and the Weetabix and the crushed forehead kisses on the way to the Underground. Sheldon who is always in a hurry, but here is Charles like me wanting to slow it down with books and time, time, time. Why do I feel so crushed with feeling for him, in this moment of him talking about Thomas More, and I don’t even care about Thomas More, really, just about Charles’ voice. I want to take him right now, tell him, this is how it is with you and me. This is what I want and screw Sheldon and all of that. I used to say, “Who knows what happiness is anyway?” but now I know that happiness is with you, and I have got to take this moment and make you know it. I have to do it, to not be afraid anymore because I can’t risk this limbo where I will never really have you at all. I won’t let you turn away because this is it really, and I am taking you hand, Baby, because today I am done with these inhibitions, so let me say it. “Please, I don’t want you to go.”

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