by Malina Douglas
How can you tell a compelling story? Point of view and framing are two tools that can help, when used effectively. In Translation State, Ann Leckie shows us how to write three different points of view while keeping the tension taut on each thread of the story. Her book is a great example of tight plotting, fast pacing and strong motivations that move the story along. In The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi, Shannon Chakraborty shows us unusual framing, palpable settings and how hints of a heavy past add intrigue and depth. Let’s take a closer at both of these books.
1. Translation State by Ann Leckie
How to write a balanced story with three points of view
Leckie alternates between three points of view while keeping the storylines tight. Her chapters are short and never drag, events move swiftly and all three points of view are riveting. I was pulled with great interest into Enae’s mission, Reet’s search for identity and Qven’s curious upbringing. While the first two are in third person, the third stands out as a first-person narrative which signals to the reader that this viewpoint is different. As the story unfolds, we see that Qven’s point of view is the strangest.
I enjoyed seeing how the storylines converge and the characters I had read about separately met and interacted with each other. She weaves their threads together without delay, and you’ll have to read the book to find out how. When two or more of the characters are together, Leckie continues to alternate points of view, giving us insights into the feelings of each. She starts with Enae at a moment of irrevocable change. Her grandmaman has died, and distant relatives converge on the house, all hungry for inheritance. Enae’s years of confinement have ended.
Opening lines:
“The last stragglers in the funeral procession were barely out the ghost door before the mason bots unfolded their long legs and reached for the pile of stones they'd removed from the wall so painstakingly the day before. Enae hadn't looked back to see the door being sealed up, but sie could hear it for just a moment before the first of Aunt Irad's moan's of grief rose into a wail. One or two cousins heaved an experimental sob. Enae hadn't cried when Grandmaman died. She hadn't cried when Grandmaman thold hir she'd chosen the time to go. Sie wasn't crying now.”
Leckie has no need to show the ‘normal world’ that Enae lived before. She starts right away with the event that catapults Enae into the plot: the death that leads to Enae receiving her mission. Reet’s story begins with a meeting a private consultant who reprimands him for being late. Irritated, Reet turns to leave, and the consultant’s friend says something that stops him:
“‘Perfect! he chortled. Absolutely perfect. You are certainly a Schan all the way through’ Reet stopped. Turned back. ‘I'm a what?’”
Reet was raised in an adopted family and has always felt different, an outsider. For the first time in his life, he is told he belongs. Mr. Heroth Nadkal, President of the Siblings of Hikipi on Rurusk Station, welcomes him as part of the same ethnic group.
“‘Come to our next meeting, Mr Schan.’ Mr Nadkal chuckled, and rubbed his hands together. ‘Mr Schan. At long last, at long last. Come to our next meeting, Mr Schan, and discover what it is to be part of a community. You aren't on your own anymore. You know who you are now.’ It was too much to handle all at once. Reet stared at Mr Nadkal, his gut gone sickeningly tense, as though Mr Nadkal had threatened him. When it was Reet who had been imagining taking him apart. When Mr Nadkal, had, in fact, just offered Reet the thing he had always wished for and always known he could never have: a history. An identity that was part of something else, not just Reet, solitary. Alone. It was too much.”
Overwhelmed by the meeting, Reet makes a rude comment and leaves abruptly, and his behaviour only reaffirms Mr Nadkal’s belief that Reet is a Schan. While the first two POVs of Translation State are told in close third person, the third is in first person. From the opening lines, Qven’s narrative throws us into an alien way of living:
“None of us is wasted. They make sure to tell us that, to assure us that each Tiny, sliding slick and slimy into its warm try, has been designed, intended for some essential role. They don’t tell you—at least when you’re a Little or a Small, and probably not even after that, not in so many words—that they make a few extras. Just in case. They don’ tell you, so of course no one ever tells you you’re an extra.”
Qven is of an indeterminate gender and narrates eir experience at each stage of life, from being a Tiny to a Little to a Middle to an Edge as ei explores and tests boundaries, discovering consequences in the process.
Pacing and Internal Motivation
Leckie alternates viewpoints in a regular pattern. The writing is spare and she limits description to the bare bones of details. While there were times when I wanted to be more grounded in setting and character, light descriptions kept the plot moving swiftly. Short chapters make for fast pacing, and Leckie doesn’t need to rely on action to to keep the reader hooked. What drives the story are internal motivations: Enae’s desire to solve the case she has been assigned, Reet’s desire to understand what he is and Qven’s desire to act with autonomy. Including all three allows us to view the story through three separate lenses. These motivations kept me reading right up to the tense climax and thrilling conclusion.
2. The Adventrures of Amina Al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty
Framing
Chakraborty starts with an interesting technique. She frames the book with Amina telling her story to someone she addresses as ‘you’, as if she is in conversation without showing the other person’s questions. The framing adds a layer in which we can see Amina telling her story. Here are the opening lines:
“God as my witness, none of this would have ever happened if it were not for those two fools back in Salalah. Them and their map. —What? What do you mean, that is “not how you start a story?” A biography? You wish for a biography? What do you think you are chronicling, the Grand Mufti of Mecca? My people do not wax poetic about lineage like yours do. We are not even true Sirafis. My father's father—an orphan turned pirate from Oman—simply found the name romantic. —Don’t you think so? As I was saying, the idiots and their map. now, I understand the appeal of treasure hunting, I do. After all we build our homes upon the ruins of lost cities and sail our ships over the drowned palaces of forgotten kings.”
The book is written entirely in the first person with a strong voice that shows Amina’s personality—a salty, wry veteran pirate with strong opinions and fierce drive to protect her daughter.
Palpable settings
Chakraborty’s details transport us to Aden where we can practically breathe the smells of the port and feel the sweat drip down our faces.
“Aden’s harbor was gentle and the expanse of azure water—a sailor's dream, clear of the coral and shoals that make most of the ports north of here so deadly—was dotted with about twenty ships, mostly the big sanabiq that carry trade goods to the East African and Indian coasts. A few more boats had been dragged onto the narrow beach for repairs, the muddy flats crowded with sweating labourers tightening hull stitches, making rope, and mixing sealant. The smell of coir and pitch combined with the salty breeze and reek of fish guts on the humid air to make a smell only a sailor could love. ...I fanned my face with the end of my turban as we made our way through a maze of wooden hulls, shark-oil-filled barrels, carpentry tools, lengths of rope, and flapping sails. The hot sand crunched beneath my thin sandals, and I was drenched with sweat in moments.”
The slow reveal of a long, interesting past
From the opening, we know Amina is an infamous pirate who has not been at sea for ten years. As the plot progresses, Chakraborty drops in hints of Amina’s past like tasty crumbs that compel us forward without revealing the full story. When Amina visits her old friend Dalila, you can feel her uncertainty and dread:
“She grabbed my face, her nails digging into the back of my skull as she kissed my cheeks. ‘My goodness, I was beginning to fear you’d forgotten all about me! It was beginning to hurt my feelings!’ Fear galloped through me. I glanced down to see if the linen cap covering her head was her infamous one—the one whose ribbons are festooned with poison tablets and glass vials of death fashioned to look like pretty baubles. I couldn’t tell. Damn. ‘No, of course not, I replied, forcing a laugh. How could I forget my closest friend?’”
As Amina asks about Dalila's life, you can get a sense of the wild and colourful history they share:
“‘Have you a life beyond trying to burn down your workshop in an experimental blaze?’ I glanced around. ‘I see no evidence of a husband.’ Dalila laughed again. ‘Men are your weakness, Amina. Not mine.’ ‘Come now,’ I protested. ‘Companionship has occasional benefits.’ ‘You do not need men for companionship. And Kamran tried to stab you. Twice.’ ‘Yes, but in my defence, it was my first marriage, and he was distractingly pretty.’ ‘You threw the second one off the Marawati stark naked.’ ‘We were at port, it was warm, and he was an excellent swimmer. Besides, I upgraded to Salih after, and he was lovely. Even you liked him.’ ‘He was an extremely good cutpurse,’ Dalila admitted.”
This passage hints at Amina’s wild lovelife, which will later come back to haunt her. Here, a long, shared past adds depth to an interaction:
“Majed grabbed my wrist. ‘You will stay.’ The words hung heavy in the air. It was the same thing Majed had said to me over twenty years ago on the deck of the Marawati when everyone else on my father's old crew deserted. When they abandoned me, stealing away on the dunij with everything they could carry as the emirs of Kish closed in. When I realised the only thing standing between me and a ghastly death was my grandfather's ship and a strange cartographer who dreamed of China.”
As the book continues, hints from the past build up the reader’s image of Amina’s exciting, rich, history. The mention of past details brings depth to the characters and makes them feel more alive. One lost crewmember and the story of what happened to him is central to the plot and revealed by slow degrees all the way to the end.
As Chakraborty resolves the story, she returns to showing the way it is written down. By returning to framing, she encloses the story in parallel bookends, ensuring it is passed down from medieval history to the present-day reader. Both Translation State and The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi use effective techniques to present the story and both are rich with craft lessons. You can choose which to read based on which elements you would like to focus on. Would you like to develop a tense, fast paced plot with multiple points of view? Then Translation State is the book for you. Would you like to frame your story with a strong character voice? Would you like to see how first person can convey voice effectively? The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi has insights to show you.
As you write, experiment and try different variations. Here are three things to try:
1. Switch from third to first person, or vice versa. Keep writing, and pay attention to your reactions. Do you feel this voice is more or less effective? It’s rare to find books in second person, but try it for fun. How does it feel? Which feels most natural to write in?
2. Choose a scene you’ve already written with two or more characters. Try writing it from a different character’s viewpoint. How does it change? Which voice do you feel is most effective in conveying the scene? Readers usually don’t like finding the same scene repeated from a different viewpoint, but you can switch viewpoints to continue a scene.
3. Take a story you’ve already written and add an element of framing. Have a character who experienced the events narrate the story. What if this story is found by a new character in the form of a diary, a series of letters or a hidden manuscript? Experiment with framing till you find something that works for you.
However you choose to present your own work, I hope these technique and exercises bring new insights that can benefit your writing.
About the Author
Malina Douglas weaves stories that fuse the fantastic and the real. She has published an article in Aurealis and fiction in Cast of Wonders, Wyldblood, Sanitarium IV, Diet Milk and Parabnormal. Her work can be found in over two dozen anthologies, including Underdogs Rise, From the Yonder IV, N is Nautical, Q is for Quantum and A Krampus Carol. Find her @iridescentwords on TwitterX, BlueSky and Substack, where she writes articles on the craft of writing.