In December, I completed a draft of book three in The Witherclaw Trilogy. The book is far from finished. I’m not even sure what I’ll title it yet. But it feels a lot more real now than it did a month before, let alone six or 12 months back. And I’m proud to share the news that it will, in fact, be done done (printed, published, all the stuff) before too long.
While most articles on my blog focus on published books, today I want to share a few reflections and updates on this one.
A sort of spoiler-free summary of book three
First thing’s first. If I had to describe the book today—which I sort of have to if I want to finish this article—I’d say something like the following.
Two years have passed since the Battle of Lilywater. Varan Witherclaw has remained in Foneth all that time, aiding Inorovel in her research and Giovel in the Divine Order’s hunt for witches. Plenty has changed. The Order is on a thin leash, since people are more suspicious of magecraft than ever before. The Optacracy is in a bind, because while Redrem is playing nice now, Lacia isn’t. And on top of it all, there’s something of a plague (which I originally planned for Candle and Claw, but then a global pandemic happened AS I WAS WRITING IT, so I decided it would be too much).
Last but not least, this book will introduce a new alliance of witches and their battle against the Order for control of an ancient stone glyph Inorovel unearths. Varan will find herself caught in the middle of this conflict, with some serious choices to make about how attached she is (or isn’t) to Foneth and the people who live within it.
Where Giovel was the hero of Candle and Claw, and Jinaten was the star and Glyph and Glaive, this book will be Varan’s story first and foremost. About time, since I named the trilogy after her.
Where does this put the series?
I’ve been calling this The Witherclaw Trilogyfor a while. And that hasn’t changed. Book three will offer a clear ending point for all major storylines.
I might yet write other content in the same world, but for now I have no spinoffs planned, let alone sequels or prequels. I’ve been working steadily on this ending point since 2020—and even beyond, as I’ll describe a little later on. And I’m eager to write some other stories too (more on that to come as well).
When will book three come out?
Based on how much work the last two volumes took beyond drafting alone, I’m targeting a release date later in 2027 (between September and November). It’s a bit of a wait, to be sure. I’d love to have it completed and ready sooner, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get all the publishing parts done on time.
This could always change. For reference, here’s a status report by month to show how quickly (or slowly) this book came together at different times of the year.
January 2025: Three chapters complete (a mere 26 pages).
February 2025: Four chapters complete in all.
March 2025: Eight chapters down! As many in March as the previous two months combined.
April 2025: 14 chapters completed. It looked like I was gaining real steam.
May 2025: 17 chapters done. Not so much progress.
June 2025: 22 chapters down as the year reached its halfway point. I was worried, at this juncture, about finishing a draft by the end of the year (which had long been my goal).
July 2025: 28 chapters complete. A little acceleration, despite lots of vacation time without writing at all.
August 2025: 37 chapters done. This was a big turning point.
September 2025: 50 Chapters done. Even more progress than in August.
October 2025: 59 chapters done. It was starting to feel doable.
November 2025: 68 chapters done. I knew I could finish by the end of the year.
December 2025: 75 chapters done, completing the draft at 599 pages.
If I can keep a steadiness to my work like I did from August to December, maybe I’ll get this book wrapped up sooner and can release before the current plan.
As part of the release, however, I’m also hoping to get a few other things out the door:
A box set for the whole trilogy
Hard cover options for all three books
The audiobook for Candle and Claw (which actually I think will be ready well before this book comes out)
What then?
I have another series I’m itching to get back to. The first book in that series has a solid draft done already. It will need some work before I release it but might be ready in 2028. These will be shorter, slightly less epic books, but I’m excited to share them.
I also have several short stories in the works, after taking a near five-year hiatus from short story writing. Fingers crossed that I’ll have a few of those out before book three is totally wrapped.
Last but not least: My qualitative feelings on book three
When I was 15, I wrote a novel. It wasn’t amazing. That novel was the story of book three, though. It stuck with me enough that I realized I needed to write a few more books to set it up (enter Candle and Claw and Glyph and Glaive). I did plenty of other things between writing this book the first time and rewriting it now. But it has been an unfinished project since then, more than 20 years back.
For that reason alone, I’m thrilled to be approaching a true finish line.
My revisions will mostly involve cutting content from the first half and repositioning material for the third quarter or so. I revised the endings more than anything else in the previous two books. I’m sure I’ll do some of that with this one as well. Less, though, if my sense of it is right. I think the ending is closer to where I want it with this book than it has been with either previous volume. But the finale has been in my mind since well before I started either of those projects, so hopefully it doesn’t need as many tweaks.
I’m surprised at some of the twists and turns to get to this point. I already feel a strong emotional investment in this one, however. That tends to be a sign that I’m happy with it.
As I finished writing Candle and Claw over five years ago, I felt I’d arrived somewhere I couldn’t have reached without writing my way there. I feel the same this time. That is what makes me most excited to polish this book and share it with readers next year.
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About the Author
Stephen Taylor is the author of The Witherclaw Trilogyas well as short fiction appearing in The Future Fire, MYTHIC Magazine,The Centropic Oracle, and other publications. His short story “Only an Ocean” won a Silver Honorable Mention in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest. When he’s not writing, he’s often playing his violin or wandering in the woods.
I was glad for a chance to sit down this month with Joe Bouchelle IV, author of The Shineden. Joe and I grew up in the same stretch of rural Virginia, jumping over creeks, pretending to duel each other with stick swords, and swapping book recommendations.
I vividly recall borrowing Joe’s copy of Eldest (by Christopher Paolini) and sitting down in my family’s 90+ degree van to start reading it while I waited for my father to drive me home. This was the same summer I got serious about writing my own stories. 20 years later, Joe and I are both still writing stories like we had in our heads then.
This interview will dig into Joe’s path to getting The Shineden from idea to finished manuscript, along with a hint or two at what he’s writing now. Here’s a summary of our conversation with some jump links to each section.
Stephen Welcome, Joe. To start us off, how would you introduce yourself?
Joe My name’s Joe Bouchelle IV. I’m the lead author at JB IV Writing.
Stephen I know I’m already interrupting, but what’s JB IV Writing?
Joe It came about because I was going through KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing), and I wanted to do a dust jacket on the hard cover. My formatting was all wrong, so I went through B&N Press, but they require you to have your publisher’s name on the spine. So I just put JB IV Writing. And that’s how that came about.
For now, I’m a part of a bookshop that’s for independent authors. I could see maybe in the future operating JB IV Writing more as a business.
Stephen So obviously The Shineden is a big project for JB IV Writing in recent months. Anything else on your shelf right now?
Joe Yeah. I just published book one of The Shineden series a few months ago. Book two, Panalsi, is scheduled for release on March 1st, 2025. I’m still working on finishing that one, but here’s hoping. I’m also working on a kind of dystopian fantasy series, and then a low fantasy series.
Stephen So you’ve got plenty to write. Do you plan to intersperse the publication dates for these series?
Joe The goal right now is to get books one and two of The Shineden out, and then the first book of the dystopian fantasy. I’m planning to do that exclusively through Salient Books.
I don’t have a timeline set right now, but if things go how I want them to, I’d like to be able to release a new book every year to perhaps a year-and-a-half. I’ll probably do the first dystopian novel, books three and four of Shineden, and then finish the dystopian series.
The pace is always crazy, though. I published The Shineden on the 5th of June. When it came out, I wanted to start working on book two immediately, but my wife Marisa told me I needed to take a week and relax. So I wrote chapters one through five in like a week, but since then it has tapered.
Origins of The Shineden
Stephen I hear you on the ebb and flow of projects. With life happening al the time, can you tell me more about your writing motivation, both for The Shineden and other projects? You’ve mentioned in social and other places that this story idea has been in your head a long time. So why now? How did you get to the point of writing it?
Joe So for your readers who don’t know, you and I pretty much grew up together near the Blue Ridge Mountains. That was where my story ideas started to come. It was being outside, growing up reading Tolkien, and immersing myself in both things. I’ve had the idea for Falduen in my head since I was fifteen—this kid who wants to grow up, wants to be special, wants to help his mom. That’s really his driving force, to protect his mother. So I’ve had that idea since I was fifteen, but never really finished creating it until this year.
Most of my readers have said that the early chapters drag on a little bit (although others have said, “Oh, you’re just world-building. It’s fantasy.”). Well, I wrote those chapters like fifteen years ago. The idea for Falduen came in, and I started creating this world when I was about seventeen. I wrote the first four chapters and then it sort of died out.
Later on, I took a creative writing class in college and started writing again a lot. I noticed as I was writing short stories that I was putting elements of Falduen in these stories, so the idea was always there.
Marisa knew I had started Falduen. She and I would leave sometimes to visit her family in Illinois for the weekend. When we would drive, I would always look at road signs, and if I saw words that were weird, I’d write them down. Pax, for instance, is the name of a little community off of highway 64 in Kentucky, and I saw a sign for it while I was driving and I said, “Write that down. I’m going to make a character called Pax.” That was 2014.
I started gathering info. Started getting more ideas. But it still took a long time to get there. After several years, I got a job teaching English at American Leadership Academy, and I was teaching 8th graders and 9th graders a segment about fantasy. We had a curriculum and set stories we were supposed to read, but I also told my students I had a book in the works, and they kind of lost their minds. I think I had seven chapters done at that point, so far less than half—unpolished writing I hadn’t updated since I was seventeen. We just started reading through it. I was the teacher who said everyone had to read out loud. So we would just read around the room. As we did that, it started to really develop the story more for me. By the end of that school year I had ten chapters.
Bt then life happened again. I was a stay at home dad for a while. I tried podcasting, streaming, working from home, everything except going back to writing. Then we moved to Illinois for me to coach soccer, and the head coach had to go home to Chile, so the coaching staff fell apart, and Marisa and I decided it would be best for me to leave the program. The day after I left, Marisa came up and said, “Why don’t you finish your book?” So I said, “Okay.”
We made a little home office, and I just started cranking it out. Everything just kind of came together and started to make sense. And so that’s really how it came to be. It felt like a rush job. With this first book, I had no publication date. I had nothing set in stone. In fact, I didn’t even advertise beforehand. I just wrote, until I was finishing the last seven chapters in a couple months, which for me was really fast since those are probably the chapters with the most depth, where the most happens.
Stephen Light spoiler warning for blog readers. I’m somewhere in that chunk as we’re talking now, at the part where he gets his companion.
Joe That’s a scene I really loved writing. By the way, on my website I have two quizzes for readers to find out what your companion would be and what color orb you’d have.
Influences on Joe’s writing
Stephen Link here, for the blog readers. So, I’d love to get into the books, movies, stories and other influences on your writing? This could be anything you’ve read recently, or any hidden gems among books you love? Obviously Tolkien.
Joe The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit are probably the two biggest ones. Just the way Tolkien writes, the styles of his writing, the world-building. I talk frequently about how he describes Treebeard and just goes on and on about this tree, but I loved that. I loved how in depth and intense he would get with the descriptions of things. So Tolkien is a big one, probably the biggest.
Christopher Paolini, The Inheritance Cycle, is probably a big one. The Shineden book one is certainly similar to The Inheritance Cycle. Back in the day, you might have recommended The Bartimaeus Trilogy to me. I loved those books.
Stephen I did indeed recommend those to several friends, so I’ll be glad to take credit for it.
Joe They’re great, and almost no one knows about them. Those are probably the biggest influences in terms of books. But then just being outside all the time. Being out in the woods, adventuring, you know, putting myself in the kinds of environments the stories are in.
Stephen Growing up in Rockbridge County, Virginia, you would love trees.
Joe Yep. I think often about when you lived out in the county, and there was that giant field with the rope swing and the creek. The mountains will play a big role in my later books. Mountains will be very important.
Stephen Did you read Redwall as well? I was very into those books when we were kids.
Joe Yes! I read Redwall too. I think I read all of the books that were out at the time. Brian Jacques started writing so many. The Long Patrol will forever be one of my favorite books. I would go back and re-read that one.
Stephen So when talking about The Shineden, I’d love to give any blog readers a comparison, at least in terms of “If you’ve read this than you’ll like The Shineden.”
Joe Although I haven’t really specified it, the first book definitely leans more toward YA, more like Eragon than The Return of the King. It’s about a kid, like Eragon. The second book gets pretty heavy really fast. The end of The Shineden introduces a storyline that leads right into book two. But if you’re a big reader, I kind of feel like The Shineden could be 11 years and up, or at least 13 and up.
Stephen You mentioned that Falduen was one of the first elements that came to being. Where else did the story go from there? Was it more characters, the world, a scene, or the wider plot?
Joe Something that drives a lot of people crazy is that I’m a huge pantser. I don’t plan. I have some little notebooks that are supposed to be the book in the book—every chapter, character descriptions, language notes, everything. But when it comes to actually writing the story, I am horrendous at planning out.
I’ll go back and take notes about chapters, and then jump around and change stuff in the manuscript. Growing up, my dad always taught us to begin with the end in mind. So again, it’s irritating to a lot of people, but when I come up with a story, I have the beginning and how it’s going to end, and then I just fill everything in as I go. Book one topped off at 57,000 words, which is of course pretty short for a fantasy novel. Book two will be 85,000 – 90,000 words. And that’s just because I keep getting more and more story, but I also know how book two has to end, so as the story keeps developing, the story keeps getting longer.
Little easter egg. The first paragraph each of the first and the last chapter mirror each other. I don’t know why I did that, but for book two it will be exciting. I’m really excited for book two in general. I feel like my writing has improved significantly for book two. Since the story has already established itself, the first chapter of book two takes you right back into it. It comes out with a bang, to say the least. I think the flow is better, and I won’t have four chapters from when I was seventeen and four from being 25 and 10 from 32…it’s all from right now, when I’m just more experienced.
Big moments in the The Shineden
Stephen Well as we tease book two, can you tell us about moments that matter in book one. Are there any key scenes you really wanted the reader to feel? Any moments you especially wanted to hit hard in a particular way? More light spoilers ahead.
Joe Obviously Falduen finding the orb is one scene in which I tried to be almost overly detailed, to really create a vivid image in the reader’s mind. I just wanted to make it real enough to where people can start connecting with the character. Another one I love is when Stephen rolls over and sees this figure standing in the woods (Pax), but just this figure is standing in the woods with their arms out and just taking out this group of Trite-Karshüre. I love to write Pax.
I also really like the scene with Falduen, when he and Thomas are up in the trees at night and see the Krooga in the woods and the fire explodes. Thomas has to explain that Falduen did that, that it came from him. I really wanted this scene to have a subliminal message, subtle idea that Falduen did this thing he didn’t even know he was capable of doing, to help understand that he is capable of doing so much more than he has been in the past.
And I always loved writing Maldis.
Stephen Yeah, I think most people love writing villains.
Joe I wanted to portray the intensity of some of the emotions Anduen is going through, though, for that scene with Maldis in Ren. But any of his stuff is fun to write.
Last two: I would say is one you’re about to read. Falduen and his companion have bonded, and I won’t spoil it too much, but they’ve bonded and his companion tells him to say something to everyone else. When I wrote it I got goosebumps, and I had Marisa read it, and I heard her from the living room say “Why do I have goosebumps right now?” and I knew where she was.
My absolute favorite scene, to visualize, was the introduction to Yewlsfaera. The process of this table separating and this forge rising up in this beautiful cavern where so many races—elves and dwarves and dragons and Mellavian—would be…I just loved it.
Yewslfaera is actually an anagram, by the way, for always free. I do this a lot in my writing. I don’t necessarily always do it in English. In book two, and actually Ävsial, the world where it takes place, is Lithuanian for freedom (backwards).
One of my favorite parts of doing all this has been the Elvish alphabet. I have notebook on notebook of the grammar rules and language for all the world I’m creating. A special edition of The Shineden is coming out November 1st with map, languages, alphabets, pronunciation guide and other supplemental items as well as concept art that is mind-blowing. This will be exclusively through B&N and the Salient bookshop.
Stephen Thanks for digging into books, influences, and writing. Any other things you want to share today?
Joe Just that I’m so excited for book two. Of course when you release a book you’re supposed to market the book you have out, not the book you don’t have out, but it has been so fun to write. There are new characters, and I’ve tried to bring in more female characters as well so it’s not just male-dominated fantasy series. But I have some really funny characters in book two, and we’ll get really in depth with Pax’s past, so that’s interesting.
Book two will deal a lot with a prophecy that was made way back when. There are aspects of it that are applicable specifically to Falduen and his companion, and other aspects that kind of leave things open-ended, so that will be really fun. There will be several new locations, one really big one introduced a little later from where I am in the writing right now. You’ll meet more Krooga—a lot of Krooga in book two. Readers will also be introduced to their language which has been really difficult but enjoyable to work on.
One spoiler I can share: I don’t know how many will read this, but the lucky few: Pax is actually going to get a dragon in book two. But not as a companion. They won’t bond like a Shineden does. But Pax will have a dragon.
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About the Author
Stephen Taylor is the author of The Witherclaw Trilogyas well as short fiction appearing in The Future Fire, MYTHIC Magazine,The Centropic Oracle, and other publications. His short story “Only an Ocean” won a Silver Honorable Mention in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest. When he’s not writing, he’s often playing his violin or wandering in the woods.
If you read much fantasy or science fiction, you’re probably used to sloppy exposition. SFF writers routinely err on the side of a) giving too much information and b) not giving enough. Most struggle particularly to find the right balance of doling out details at a manageable pace. After all, readers rarely agree on how much information is enough and how much is overkill.
Some writers still knock it out of the park, however. This article explores how Naomi Novik handles exposition in her 2020 novel A Deadly Education.
Alternate approaches to exposition and reader onboarding
Before getting into Novik’s approach, I want to talk through some alternate approaches to onboarding readers into the writer’s creation. There are all kinds of rules and tricks to try smoothing the playing field for a variety of readers. Some bank on reader taste and individual preference, while other types of exposition work more unilaterally.
Staggering character introductions to lighten the exposition load on the reader
If you’re writing something like The Lord of the Rings, your readers will need to learn a lot of people’s names. So, you could spread them out. Writers often introduce just one or two new faces per scene or per chapter, for instance. Tolkien isn’t known for playing by anyone’s storytelling rules, but even his approach to exposition paces character introductions fairly evenly across the sprawling story—and readers do in fact remember the ones that really matter.
Spreading out unique terms to keep things readable
Nnedi Okorafor’s Akata Witch introduces a lot of distinct terms, places, magical phenomena, etc. for how short a book it is. Okorafor keeps the reading experience very manageable, however, by putting forward new instances of magic, novel locations, never-before-seen demonic entities, fresh serial killers, all the stuff. This is very similar in concept to staggering character introductions, though clever writers (like Okorafor) overlap these techniques by giving enough familiar material to keep things recognizable as they move along.
The “show, don’t tell” bit
In defense of that old and 50% useless adage, many current SFF writers try to avoid overt explanations of anything in their settings. “That’s telling, not showing,” many of them say.
It’s not, actually. All writing is telling. It’s just telling readers surface information instead of telling substantial stuff.
The “show, don’t tell” adage serves writers well when they find ways to show meaningful information. Even though show-don’t-tellers tend to write bulky books where little actually happens (because they’re so fixated on not narrating anything directly), this remains a popular approach to overall exposition.
A Chekov’s Gun angle into exposition and worldbuilding
The majority of science fiction and fantasy writers today seem to favor a sort of Chekov’s gun approach to worldbuilding. They accomplish this by introducing key information before it becomes truly relevant to the reader and then repeating relevant tidbits when the big moment of arrival comes. The argument is that this rewards readers who’ve been paying attention. In reality it’s probably more about simplifying the reading experience. After all, plenty of readers need that second or third iteration to get new information down.
Naomi Novik takes a simpler worldbuilding route
At risk of oversimplifying, here’s how Novik takes on most of the worldbuilding challenges in A Deadly Education.
When readers need to know something new, she gives them the information.
And that’s just about it.
Yes, it sounds uber basic. The straightforwardness of the technique belies how tough it is to do. It’s also hard to find examples that both make sense and show impact in context. Here’s one, however, to show how this works:
“I was sitting with my back to the queue. That’s the safer way to sit—if you’re friendless—since it puts you that much closer to the mass of moving students, with a better view of the doors.”
A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik
This brief passage gives new information (that is surprisingly relevant) about our narrator’s survival practices and social life. it does so in a moment that readers need the information. It shows—via our narrator’s actions—and offers exposition to make sense of the action.
Here’s another passage immediately after the author introduces monsters called maw-mouths.
“The one and only way to stop a maw-mouth is to give it indigestion. If you rush into the maw-mouth on your own, with a powerful enough shield, then you have a chance to get inside before it can start eating you. In theory, if you manage to reach the core, you can burst it apart from there. But mostly people don’t get that far.”
A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik
At risk of spoilers, let’s just say that it’s important for the reader to know about maw-mouths. But it wouldn’t really have been important 50 pages earlier.
Why more straightforward exposition works for Novik and others
There are some real benefits to this no nonsense approach to exposition. First, it limits the need for repetition. Ancillary to this, it makes for shorter books overall (something Novik has done well for nearly 20 years but which many SFF authors never achieve). Novik’s expository style is actually a very efficient way to support more plodding deliveries of information too, since she doesn’t have to do plot gymnastics to fabricate excuses for why readers can now get the needed information (another common failing in SFF writing).
The dangers are many, however. If you wait until the moment to give the needed information, you might interrupt the flow of something pivotal to the plot. The background lore might be boring in comparison. Your exposition might come across as the dreaded infodump that SFF authors employed so heavily in the 70s and 80s. These reasons are probably part of why authors have shifted to less obvious, direct methods of exposition.
The reality is that some readers have come to call this kind of linear exposition “bad writing.” I beg to differ.
Here’s a non-Novik example from Brandon Sanderson’s The Way of Kings. I share this example as counterpoint since Sanderson makes consistent, strong, even vocal use of the Chekov’s Gun approach to giving information in advance. But he also finds mileage in a more step-by-step system of producing the right information at the right moment.
Here’s the example from the middle of a series-central assisination scene:
“[Szeth] slammed the door just as the guards arrived.
“The Stormlight held the door in the frame with the strength of a hundred arms. A Full Lashing bound objects together, holding them fast until the Stormlight ran out. It took longer to create—and drained Stormlight far more quickly—than a Basic Lashing.”
The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson
Small interruption, some useful information that informs many following scenes, and then the scene goes on. It’s that simple. This sort of exposition makes things so easy for readers. If only other writers would get over themselves and just give the information they want their readers to have.
My typical caveats: There are other ways to handle exposition
There are plenty of excellent writers who never dip a lone finger into such obvious exposition. That’s fine too. There are other ways to impart what readers need to know. I’m working on a blog post about Steven Erikson’s Malazan books, actually—and he leans far away from this approach to giving readers’ information.
My point is not that everyone should do it the same way. I’m not even saying to throw out the “show, don’t tell” saying (though I should write more about that sometime because it’s not great writing advice by itself).
Rather, I submit that there’s nothing wrong with just sharing what readers should understand in your world. No need to beat around the bush or mask your exposition—especially when, as Novik does in A Deadly Education, you can let the narrative voice freewheel at the same time you inform the reader.
If you want a short, punchy book, there’s a lot you can learn from Novik’s polished technique. And you’ll probably enjoy the book too.
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About the Author
Stephen Taylor is the author of The Witherclaw Trilogyas well as short fiction appearing in The Future Fire, MYTHIC Magazine,The Centropic Oracle, and other publications. His short story “Only an Ocean” won a Silver Honorable Mention in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest. When he’s not writing, he’s often playing his violin or wandering in the woods.
There are few techniques that I (as a fiction writer) think about more often than third person limited point of view (POV). And while not every reader cares about this sort of thing, most readers do care about the results when writers employ techniques like third person limited, which is the real focus of this article.
I spend plenty of space across my blog talking about fantasy and science fiction books I love, including some reasons why I love them. With this article, however, I’m kicking off a new series that explores the same topic from a writing craft perspective, digging deeper into some individual examples that really stand out. My hope is that readers and writers alike will better appreciate and enjoy what they’re reading (or writing) as they give it some craft thought.
First up: Brent Weeks, author of the Lightbringer Series, the Night Angel Trilogy and a new connected novel Night Angel Nemesis. Weeks is well known and regarded among epic fantasy readers, but some of his strongest skills (in my opinion) often go unsung. This article specifically explores how Weeks handles third person limited POV in his Lightbringer books.
Here goes.
Ground rules: What is third person limited point of view?
Third person limited POV takes the narration into the experience, thoughts, and knowledge of a character—or set of characters—without giving the reader access to everyone’s experience, thoughts, and knowledge. Where an omniscient POV could dip into anyone’s mind when convenient, third person limited comes with some restrictions on whose information is available when.
This most often means the narrative sticks with just one character at a time. While authors are typically strict about managing whose thoughts they follow, it’s much less common to find any set rules about how deeply in or out of those thoughts the narration might go. And that’s where things get really interesting.
Excerpt #1:
Wetting his lips, Kip got moving. He had the distinct sensation of being followed. Stalked. He looked over his shoulder. There was nothing there. Of course. His mother always said he had too much imagination. Just walk, Kip. Places to be. Animals are more scared of you and all that.
The Black Prism by Brent Weeks
When we get to this “Just walk, Kip” part, most fantasy authors (and most third person limited narratives) would use italics to demarcate character thought. Weeks foregoes the italics and just keeps the words coming. Is it Kip thinking this now, or his mother speaking in the past? Probably one and the same, with no need to distinguish between either voice in this instance.
I’ve heard several writers and a few editors criticize Weeks for the way he handles third person limited—specifically in this choice not to italicize character thoughts when they appear within the narrative. I first want to note that readers aren’t typically complaining about this. I also want to heap praise for how effective Weeks’s technique really is.
Here are three main strengths to consider, from a writing craft perspective, about Weeks’s approach to third person limited POV.
1. This direct approach to third person limited POV elides between character thought and overall narration
Use of italics for character thought creates a sort of POV false dichotomy. We’re either getting the narrator’s thoughts or the characters’.
As such, there’s an often artificial distinction in the source of whatever information we’re reading. Use of italics separates the parts of the narrative coming from a narrator (not the character) from the character’s own time-bound, in-story, limited point of view. There’s nothing wrong with having this distinction, in my opinion. The elimination of such a distinction, however, makes the narrative more interesting and immediate.
For a story like the Lightbringer Series, this take on third person limited POV plants a seed of bias and fallibility. To avoid spoilers for the series, let me just say that things are not always as they seem—including to the characters whose voices we probably trust. Part of each volume’s emotional power comes from Weeks’s candid exploration of the view point characters’ blind spots.
And, because there’s not much formal distinction between the narrator’s view of things and the characters’, the story organically works these character blind spots into the wider narrative.
Weeks could have told the same story using italics to stencil out his characters’ thoughts paragraph by paragraph. This would, however, hint at where the narrative gives us a partial truth or a misperception. As such, it would undermine many many compelling moments to come.
2. Skipping italics in third person limited POV removes the false binary of being in/out of character thought
There’s another manufactured dichotomy at work when authors use italics to show character thought. The italics introduce a sort of on/off switch. Italics=character thought. No italics=no character thought. But what about when you want to be 50% in the character’s head, like free indirect voice? Or 100% in their head, like stream of consciousness? Or just 75% in their head, like italics usually convey?
Take a look at the passage below to see a few different ticks on this POV spectrum.
Excerpt #2:
Kip saw something in the mist. His heart leapt into his throat. The curve of a mail cowl. A glint of eyes searching in the darkness.
Then it was swallowed up in the roiling mists.
A ghost. Dear Orholam. Some spirit keeping watch at its grave.
Look on the bright side. Maybe wolves are scared of ghosts.
The Black Prism by Brent Weeks
The first two sentences are probably fully removed from Kip’s head. Then, with “the curve of a mail cowl” and beyond, the storytelling camera zooms closer. Before we know it, we’re getting direct expressions of thought from the character (“Look on the bright side” for instance).
Weeks doesn’t have to worry about how deep or how direct his POV is—or when to switch the italics on—which gives much greater flexibility to dip partially into the character’s perceptions, to move deeper still, or to withdraw. He seamlessly blends many distinct levels of connection to the characters’ thoughts. His approach to third person limited also avoids the thought/no thought binary that italics often implies.
3. Weeks’s approach to POV moves readers closer to the characters
Ultimately, Weeks’s use of third person limited POV gives readers a closer, more personal look at the characters about whom he’s writing. It feels, after all, as if they are writing the story with him. He tends to be more generous with character thought than many of his peer authors (much more generous, actually), which empowers his view point characters to come to life in a way more often reserved to first person narratives.
Excerpt #3:
It was too much information to soak up at once—broken the halo?—but it was a straight answer. Kip walked over to the dead man. His skin was pallid in the rising light. Pull it together, Kip. Ask whatever you need to ask.
The Black Prism by Brent Weeks
The ability to get into the character’s head is the single most unique narrative benefit of fiction. Much as film, TV, theatre and other storytelling media try to do this, there’s no stronger way to transport the audience into the character’s psyche than through a strong use of written POV.
Weeks is by no means alone in his use of deep character immersion without italics. Writers have done this for decades if not centuries now. Ursula K. Le Guin, Patricia McKillip and Orson Scott Card have all employed similar POV techniques to great effect—just as many many skilled writers use third person limited with italics to delineate character thought.
It might be worth stating that I’m not at all against using italics. Some writers might do this just because they’ve seen it done (and not for any distinctly craft-oriented reasons), but there are cases in which it’s extremely helpful.
For instance, fantasy is full of characters who communicate telepathically or who have voices reach their minds through other magical means. Imagine if Christopher Paolini’s Eragon and Saphira were trying to have a conversation without the guidance of italics (it would be hard to follow). Or imagine if Robert Jordan’s Rand al’Thor and Lews Therin Telamon were trying to outshout each other without italics to help steer the reader along. It would most likely convince the readers that Rand was going mad. But it might not convince them to keep reading.
Italics can also be useful for omniscient third person narratives or narratives that, while not omniscient, head hop without clear patterns or distinctions to reveal when the head hopping happens. Even if you just want to use them for a single character’s thoughts, italics create a clean line of separation between the character’s perceptions and the rest of the narrative.
It just comes down to whether you want such separation or not—and I tend to favor something else.
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About the Author
Stephen Taylor is the author of The Witherclaw Trilogyas well as short fiction appearing in The Future Fire, MYTHIC Magazine,The Centropic Oracle, and other publications. His short story “Only an Ocean” won a Silver Honorable Mention in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest. When he’s not writing, he’s often playing his violin or wandering in the woods.
