Introspection & Deep Point of View
Using Direct & Indirect Thoughts to Pull Readers Deeper into Your Story
Deep point of view (often abbreviated as POV) puts the reader inside the character's head. Readers can imagine the character walking into the room, hearing bad news, arguing with her mother, or discovering a body, but they experience those moments from her perspective.
We see what she sees, and more importantly, we notice what she notices. We interpret each person she encounters and places she visits through her history with them, good or bad.
Before a writer can use deep point of view, they need to understand introspection. Some authors believe they need to pause the story’s action or forward momentum and give the protagonist time to think. They’ll create a short scene in which the protagonist is musing over some event. These longer periods of reflection (see sequel below) are fine when the story calls for it, but the writer misses dozens of other opportunities to draw readers deeper into the story by inserting short instances of introspection into the narrative.
The character might make a snap judgment, like this.
He wore a stained, tattered t-shirt and a pair of jeans with holes in both knees and covered in paint splatters.
Carrie forced a smile and returned his handshake. Gross. What kind of man comes to meet his new employer dressed like a bum? Obviously, the man had no class…
Or, maybe, the character suddenly realizes her father is lying to her.
“I have a business meeting tonight,” Father said, making a show of pulling on his riding gloves. “You and your mother will have to dine without me.”
He’s lying. Whatever he had planned, it had nothing to do with business. He hadn’t looked her in the eyes once since she entered the house. Instead of his normal, boisterous greeting, he’d bid her good evening in a soft voice while he’d fussed with his gloves. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I’d bet my right arm it’s not good.
I’ll provide several more examples in the following sections, but for now, keep in mind that introspection, used well, helps turn a character from someone the reader is watching from afar into someone the reader knows on a more intimate level.
What Exactly is Introspection?
Take a look at this sentence.
Mark was angry because his sister forgot his birthday.
That sentence gives us the necessary information. Mark is angry. His sister forgot his birthday. We even know why one caused the other.
But we don’t know much about Mark.
Now, read the paragraphs below.
“Good morning!” Sara pushed through the front door, making the little bell above her head jingle daintily. “Oh, hey, Mark, I didn’t expect to see you here. Do you know where Mom is? I need to talk to her. It’s important.”
Mark pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “In the storage room counting boxes of tissue paper.”
He frowned as he watched his sister disappear into the back of the store. She forgot. Again. Sara could recite the name of every dog she’d owned since kindergarten, but apparently, her brain didn’t have enough mental stamina to remember his birthday. And I’m her only sibling!
Now we have a lot more information. We know he’s angry, but we can also tell he has a sarcastic sense of humor. He resents her inability to keep track of such a (to him) important date, and depending on what we’ve learned before and after this paragraph, we might realize he’s a little bit hurt. Using introspection, we’ve shown some of the history between them.
That is one of the most useful things introspection can do. Used appropriately, it reveals the emotion beneath the surface. While a character might smile and seem fine to anyone who’s looking, underneath, they might be experiencing any number of emotions they aren’t willing or able to admit.
A person might think, "I'm devastated that my sister forgot my birthday, which would indicate they’re very aware of their feelings, but a real person isn’t usually that in touch with their emotions. They might think something along the lines of, Typical. She forgot my birthday for the last two years. Why should this year be different?
Or, Whatever. I’m a forty-two-year-old man. Who cares about birthdays, anyway? (But then he reveals a little truth as he checks his phone again five minutes later to see if she sent a message. The contradiction between his thoughts and his actions is part of what makes him human…part of what makes him seem real).
Private Commentary and Humor
Sandra tucked her chin and clamped her mouth shut before a snort escaped.
“He actually asked if my stylist used a bowl!” Carrie set her tea mug down with a thunk.
“Just ignore him.” Sandra patted Carrie’s sweater sleeve, careful not to look directly at her hair. “Looks fine. I’m grabbing coffee before the phones start ringing.”
She bolted toward the breakroom.
It wasn’t quite a bowl cut.
More like a bicycle helmet made of dark brown synthetic hair, sitting slightly crooked on Carrie’s head.
Sandra shut the breakroom door behind her, leaned her forehead against the cool glass on the front of the vending machine, and finally let herself laugh.
Sandra’s thoughts and actions tell us something her dialogue didn’t. She’s too kind to tell Carrie her haircut looks ridiculous. By using introspection that contradicts the character’s words, the writer can reveal a great deal about that character’s personality.
Self-Directed Frustration
Adam jammed his car keys into his pocket, his jaw aching from clenching his teeth.
Brilliant move, Adam. Invite her back into your life like the last three years never happened.
He rubbed the back of his neck where a familiar knot was already forming.
Lisa hadn’t changed. People didn’t suddenly grow a conscience in six months.
Yet here he was, walking across the parking lot of the diner she’d chosen, sweating through a clean cotton shirt.
Adam’s thoughts reveal things that readers would never know if the author used actions alone. He knows this is a bad idea, and he thinks he’s being foolish, but he’s doing it anyway. Most people can relate to a decision like the one Adam made. Most of us have done something we knew wasn’t the best idea. Using introspection to show the difference between what a character knows and what he does, makes him seem more human. As a result, readers will find him more memorable.
Bias Changes What a Character Sees
Frederick sat behind his walnut desk, hands folded atop a stack of quarterly reports.
“Fine work, Drew.”
Drew beamed and sat a little taller in his cheap suit.
Marianne stared at the chipped edge of her coffee mug.
Drew was an idiot.
Frederick had used that exact deadpan tone five minutes before he fired the entire intake team last October.
‘Fine work’ isn’t a compliment. Not coming from Fred. She risked a glance over the rim of the mug to check Drew’s expression. It hadn’t changed. Despite the lengthening silence and Fred’s lack of a smile, Drew still sat there grinning like a fool, believing he was safe. Poor guy…
Another character might interpret Frederick’s words differently. Drew certainly did. But this scene belongs to Marianne. We’re in her point of view, so we receive her interpretation.
This is an important part of deep POV that writers sometimes overlook. Deep POV does not mean the point of view character knows all. Their opinion might be just the opposite of the truth due to possible biases, jealousy, fear, prejudices, suspicions, and so on. They may have simply judged the situation wrong.
All this means that when the author uses introspection to draw the reader deeper into the story, they’re experiencing the events through the protagonist’s personal perspective and see things the same way the character sees them.
What We Say vs. What We Mean
“Seven works.” Kelly adjusted the strap of her gardening apron, squinting against the late-afternoon sun over Sam’s fence. “It’s just dinner at Sullivan’s. If we talk about the weather for two hours and leave, fine. No skin off my back.”
Sam waved and disappeared behind the overgrown private hedge.
Kelly let out a breath and picked up her trowel. Her palms were damp.
If Bob showed up expecting some bubbly woman who loved sports and laughed at bad jokes, he’d be looking for an excuse to leave before the appetizers arrived.
Just like the guy from the library who asked me to dinner two weeks ago.
She drew a deep breath and forced her attention back to her gardening.
In the above excerpt, Kelly pretends she doesn’t care, but her thoughts and actions tell a different story.
Readers often learn more about characters from their thoughts than the words they say or the face they present to the world.
Direct and Indirect Thought
Writers have a few basic ways to show a character’s thoughts on the page. They can use direct thoughts or indirect thoughts, or they can use a combination of both.
The difference is more about distance than any rules of grammar or writer’s craft. The choice an author makes depends on how close they want the readers to be to the exact words passing through the character’s mind at any one time.
Direct Thought
Direct thought gives us something close to the character’s actual internal words.
For example…
Footsteps crunched on the gravel outside the barn.
Don’t look at the window. Stay down.
Or…
Mark reached across the diner booth, his sleeve brushing her knuckles.
Move your hand. Right now.
Or…
The carriage slowed near the parish gates.
If Father sees this skirt, I’m dead.
Direct thoughts are often italicized, although house style and author preference vary. These thoughts also frequently shift into first person and present tense, showing the character’s thoughts as they think them. Although neither of those formats are absolute requirements, the author will want to take into consideration the standard within their genre and the style of the publishing house they plan to target, as most publishers have their own style guide. If your target readers are used to seeing direct thoughts in italics and present tense, consider using the more common format.
The important thing to consider is that direct thought feels like something the character is actually saying inside his or her own head.
Direct thoughts work especially well for:
sudden realizations
warnings
instinctive reactions
self-criticism
disbelief
brief emotional (internal) outbursts
thoughts that sharply contradict what the character is saying aloud
A little direct thought can have a huge impact, but too much can start sounding as though the character has an internal commentator who’s narrating everything that’s happening to them.
Consider the following portion of a scene.
He’s coming toward me. Why is he coming toward me? I don’t want to talk to him. Maybe I should leave. No, that would look strange. I’ll stay here. I hope he doesn’t mention last night.
You can write that way, but an entire novel filled with this kind of internal play-by-play starts to sound strange. Most of those thoughts can be switched to narration. By creating certain specific direct thoughts, the author can highlight those ideas that are most important.
Oh, no! Peter! What’s he doing here?
He looked as handsome as ever, and he was heading her way. She considered making a run for the exit, but then dismissed the idea as she thought about how ridiculous she would seem. Instead of fleeing, she stood her ground, head held high. I just hope he doesn’t mention anything about last night…
Now let's look at the second way to include a character’s thoughts.
Indirect Thought
Indirect thought blends the character’s thinking into the narrative.
Instead of, Why is he coming over here? I hope he doesn’t mention last night, you might write, Ben was coming straight toward her. Great… Of the sixty-some people at this party, apparently the one person she needed to avoid had decided they should chat. And if he mentioned last night, she was going to throw herself into the swimming pool.
The narration is still third person, and the paragraph remains in past tense. But the author uses the protagonist’s word choices and way of speaking, and that is the key to effectively using indirect thoughts. The narrative voice takes on the character’s personality.
Compare the following examples.
Neutral:
The hotel room was small and poorly maintained.
Character A:
One hundred and eighty-nine dollars a night for a stained carpet, a wheezing air conditioner, and a bathroom apparently designed for kids and little people. She scowled and rubbed her elbow where she’d bumped it on the sink.
Character B:
The room wasn’t much, but the lock worked, the curtains closed all the way, and nobody downstairs had asked for ID.
Both characters are in the same room, but they’re two very different people with different priorities.
This is why indirect thought is so useful in deep POV. You don’t have to stop the story and announce that the character is thinking. The character’s personality and perspective are right there in the narration.
Turning Direct Thought Into Indirect Thought
Here’s the direct version.
Marcus watched the appraiser turn the gold locket over in his gloved fingers.
He knows it’s counterfeit. I can tell by the way he’s checking the clasp. I’m going to end up in a holding cell by noon.
Now, we’ll remove the direct internal monologue without losing Marcus’s fear:
Marcus watched the appraiser turn the gold locket over in his white cotton gloves.
The man squinted as he examined the hinge then lifted his loupe to inspect the faint tooling mark near the clasp.
He knew. In another thirty seconds, he’d be reaching under the counter for the silent alarm, leaving Marcus to explain to the cops about how a piece of counterfeit jewelry had come into his possession, and more importantly, why he’d tried to pass it off as the real thing.
The idea is the same, but the way we’ve expressed it to the reader has changed.
Now look at the paragraphs below. How might you rewrite them using indirect thoughts?
Lena stared at the email.
He gave the promotion to Eric. After everything I did for this company, he gave it to Eric.
Instead of changing first person into third person and stopping there, try to include Lena’s personality in your rewrite. In other words, don’t do something like this…
After everything Lena had done for the company, her boss had given the promotion to Eric.
That only changes the grammar. The POV is very distant, and we’ve included none of Lena’s attitude or emotions…
What would she notice? What specific grievance comes immediately to mind?
Maybe something like this…?
Fingers crossed, Lena scanned the email for the name of the employee who’d received the promotion.
“Congratulations…Eric Dumsworth?” she mumbled under her breath. The man who had once asked her how to attach a PDF to an email had somehow become her supervisor.
That paragraph gives us a lot more information about Lena’s situation and how she feels about Eric getting the job.
Introspection Should Add Something
One of the most common errors I see from authors using introspection is repetition. Here’s an example.
Tom opened the letter and read the first line.
Your application has been denied.
He couldn’t believe they had denied his application.
That last line, his thought, repeats the fact that his application was denied. There are better ways the writer could phrase this without repetition. Here’s one example.
Tom opened the letter and read the first line.
Your application has been denied.
Four months of forms. Three interviews. Two letters from doctors. And their response? One line. No apology, no details…just a single line.
The last paragraph, using indirect thought, doesn’t repeat something we already knew, and it adds new information to the story.
When you add introspection, ask yourself what the character’s thought tells the reader that the action, dialogue, or previous narrative hasn’t already told them.
It might reveal:
history
fear
resentment
desire
an incorrect assumption
a private joke
a memory
a plan
a contradiction
a relationship
information the character knows that the reader doesn’t
If it does none of those things, you may not need it.
Filter Words: Useful Tool or Unnecessary Distance?
Writers are often told to eliminate filter words.
If you’re not familiar with the term “filter words,” here are a few common examples.
she saw
he heard
she noticed
he realized
she wondered
he thought
she felt
The advice to remove those words exists for good reason. Filter words can put unnecessary space between the reader and the POV-character’s experience.
Compare sentence number one with sentence number two.
Ellen heard the radiator in the hall give two sharp metallic clanks. She noticed how cold the bedroom had become.
The radiator in the hall gave two sharp metallic clanks and died. Frost had already begun creeping up the inside corner of the bedroom window.
We don’t need to be told Ellen heard the radiator. If we are in Ellen’s POV and the sound appears on the page, readers understand that the character heard it.
The same applies to these two sentences.
She noticed the door was open.
The door was open.
And these two.
He realized the gun was gone.
The gun was gone.
The second version usually works better because it removes the filter words and draws readers deeper into the scene.
But filter words aren’t against “the rules.” Sometimes, the act of noticing, realizing, remembering, or deliberately listening is the important part.
For example, look at the short story excerpt below.
She’d walked past the photograph every morning for eleven years.
Today, for the first time, she noticed the man standing behind her father.
Here, the word noticed is an important part of the scene. The point isn’t simply that a man is in the photograph. The point is that she suddenly realized something she had somehow missed before.
Instead of deleting every filter word, the author should ask whether the filtering action helps to illustrate the scene’s point.
If it doesn’t, try removing it and see whether the sentence becomes stronger.
Practice: Strip Away the Distance
Let’s take a moment to practice some of what you’ve learned so far. Read the paragraph below, and then try to remove unneeded filter words or phrases.
Detective Vance saw the blood spatter on the wainscoting and felt a wave of nausea hit him. He remembered the last time he’d seen a room like this, back when he worked the night shift in Detroit. He knew the killer had taken his time, and he wondered if they were dealing with the same suspect who had slipped through their fingers in May.
Try removing saw, felt, remembered, knew, and wondered.
Here’s one possible way you might revise this.
Blood speckled the white wainscoting in an uneven arc, dark and already tacky.
Vance swallowed against the sour rise of bile.
Detroit all over again. That second-floor apartment off Woodward Avenue.
The deliberate spacing of the spray meant whoever held the hammer hadn’t rushed.
May’s phantom killer had come back for another round.
Note that removing filters does not mean removing Vance’s thoughts. Instead, his thoughts become part of the scene.
Ground Thoughts in the Character’s Actions
Long stretches of thought can start to feel as though the character’s body has disappeared. Here’s an example.
Julian sat on the park bench. He was terrified of losing custody of his daughter. He worried that his modest salary as an archivist wouldn’t impress the judge, especially compared with his ex-wife’s corporate career. He knew he loved his daughter more than anything, but love didn’t pay private-school tuition.
Nothing here is technically confusing. But Julian has become a talking—or, in this case, thinking—head, sitting on a park bench.
Let’s try giving him something physical to do.
Julian folded the court summons until the paper creased then smoothed it flat against his trousers.
Again.
His pay stubs from the historical society were stapled to the back—forty-two thousand a year to preserve nineteenth-century church records.
Maya’s corporate tax return showed five times that amount on the first page.
Would a judge care which parent reads bedtime stories? Who stayed home when Sophie had the flu? Who knew she hated the crusts on grilled cheese sandwiches?
Or would he look at the numbers and see the brick townhouse, the private school, and the parent who could afford both?
The second version works better because Julian isn't sitting on a park bench thinking about custody simply because the author needs to explain what's at stake. The court papers in his hands give him a reason to think about it. Whenever he looks at the numbers, he's reminded of what he could lose.
Giving a character something physical to interact with can also keep a long passage of introspection from feeling disembodied. The character can fold a letter, wash dishes, pace the room, sort through photographs, or stare at a text message while they're thinking. The action doesn't have to be dramatic. It just needs to work for the scene and, ideally, connect in some way to whatever is going through the character's mind.
Introspection and Pacing
You may have heard that characters shouldn't think during action scenes. I disagree with that advice, at least when it's stated as an absolute rule. People don't stop thinking because they're frightened or under pressure. Their thoughts simply become shorter and more focused on whatever they need to do next.
Imagine someone running from an armed intruder.
That probably isn't the moment for something like this >>
As she ran, Melissa remembered how her father had always told her that courage wasn't the absence of fear but the willingness to act despite it. She wondered whether he would consider her courageous now.
But something like this might work >>
The back door.
Ten feet.
Locked.
Shit.
The window.
During a high-stakes scene, a character may still think things like, Where is he? Too far. Move. Not that door. Get up. Those thoughts don't interrupt the action because they're part of the character's immediate response to the danger.
Once the danger has passed, the writer has more room. The character might replay what happened, question a decision, recognize something she missed, connect the event to an earlier memory, or finally admit what frightened her most.
The amount and type of introspection should fit what's happening in the scene. If your character is running for her life, she probably isn't going to spend three paragraphs analyzing her childhood. If she's sitting alone in her car ten minutes later with shaking hands and nowhere she has to be, she might.
Beware of Convenient Introspection
Characters sometimes think things for the reader’s benefit that they would have no reason to think about.
For example:
Robert looked across the table at his younger brother, Daniel, who was thirty-eight years old and who had worked as a cardiologist at St. Luke’s for the past eleven years.
Unless Robert has recently suffered a head injury, he probably knows who his brother is. That information exists because the author wants the reader to know it.
The same problem appears in relationships:
Sarah smiled at her best friend of twenty-two years.
Or backstory:
He recalled the accident five years ago that had killed his wife Jennifer.
People usually don’t mentally summarize facts they already know.
Instead, find a reason the information matters now.
Daniel reached for a third strip of bacon.
Robert raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a cardiologist?”
“Which means I know exactly what this is doing to me.”
“That is not as reassuring as you seem to think.”
Now Daniel’s profession comes up naturally and the relationship feels real.
Let Characters Be Wrong
This may be one of the most useful things you can do with introspection. Just because we're inside a character's head doesn't mean the character is right.
Suppose Rachel sees her husband turn his phone facedown when she enters the room.
He's hiding something.
That's Rachel's interpretation of what she saw, and depending on what has happened earlier in the story, the reader may believe her. But maybe he was ordering her birthday present. Maybe his sister texted him about a private medical problem. Or maybe he is hiding something, but not what Rachel assumes.
Deep POV allows the reader to experience Rachel's suspicion without requiring the author to confirm that her suspicion is correct. You can use that difference to create tension, misdirection, conflict, and sometimes, heartbreak.
We interpret other people's words and actions based on what we know, what we think we know, our past experiences, our fears, and our biases. Sometimes we're right. Sometimes we're very wrong. Your characters should be allowed to make those same mistakes.
Watch for Thoughts That Sound Like the Author
A nineteen-year-old college freshman, a seventy-year-old retired welder, a homicide detective, and a medieval farm girl shouldn't all think in the same vocabulary. This sounds obvious, but it can be surprisingly difficult to catch in our own work.
Imagine a scene with a mechanic looking at an engine.
The vehicle appeared to have suffered significant mechanical failure that would require extensive repairs.
Would the mechanic think like that? Use those words or phrases? Probably not.
But he might think something more along the lines of this >> Timing belt was gone. Probably bent half the valves with it. There went Saturday.
A character's knowledge and experience affect what they notice and understand. Their personality affects how they interpret what they see. Their mood may determine what matters to them at that particular moment, and their history will affect the memories and associations the situation brings to mind.
All of those things can show up in the character's thoughts. If you removed a paragraph of introspection from one character's scene and dropped it into another character's scene without changing a word, would it still fit? If so, the passage may need more of the POV character’s personality in it.
A Few Common Problems
The Refrigerator Monologue
A character opens the refrigerator and suddenly spends four paragraphs analyzing her childhood, failed marriage, fear of abandonment, relationship with her mother, and inability to trust men.
Those thoughts may all be important, but the writer still needs to ask why the character would be thinking about all of them right now. Give the introspection a trigger that makes sense within the scene.
The Amateur Therapist
Unless it fits the character, be careful about having people diagnose themselves in therapy language.
Take a look at the following sentence. Most people don’t think like this.
I’m engaging in avoidance behavior because of unresolved childhood trauma.
But they might think something like this.
If I open that blue envelope, I’m going to throw up.
And the second one tells us more about the character, too.
The Echo
Dialogue: “I never loved you.”
Thought: He couldn’t believe she had never loved him.
The thought hasn't added anything because the dialogue already told us she never loved him. Instead, use the character's reaction to go deeper into the protagonist’s thoughts, and show readers what’s going on beneath the surface.
“I never loved you.”
Fourteen years… He’d given her fourteen years, and apparently, she’d been waiting until Tuesday afternoon in a Target parking lot to mention that particular detail.
Now the thought adds personality, history, disbelief, and anger.
Everyone Sounds Alike
If you can move a paragraph of introspection from one POV character to another without changing anything, take another look.
What would this particular person notice?
What would she compare it to?
What would she refuse to admit?
What does she know that another character wouldn’t?
What does she misunderstand?
Those questions can help you find the personality of that particular character.
Quiz: How Well Can You Spot Effective Introspection?
Some have a simple answer. Others require you to think about what the passage is trying to accomplish.
1. Which sentence brings us closest to the character through indirect thought?
A. She wondered if the rain would ever stop ruining her morning runs.
B. Rain hammered the porch roof, turning the driveway into a brown swamp and wrecking another Saturday run.
C. I really hate this rain, she thought.
D. She felt irritated because rain kept her from running.
2. Why might a writer choose direct thought instead of indirect thought?
A. Direct thought is always deeper POV.
B. It can give a sudden reaction or realization extra emphasis.
C. Third-person fiction requires direct thought.
D. Direct thought eliminates the need for characterization.
3. Which sentence contains a filter that probably isn’t doing useful work?
A. The linoleum was cold and sticky beneath his bare feet.
B. He noticed the heavy iron latch had slipped out of its groove.
C. Paint peeled from the tool shed in gray curls.
D. A damp metallic smell rose from the drain.
4. When might “she noticed” be worth keeping?
A. Never. Filter words should always be deleted.
B. When the fact that the character has newly become aware of something matters.
C. Whenever the author wants to slow the scene.
D. Only in omniscient POV.
5. Read this passage:
The cellar door creaked open.
Mark froze on the third step.
If that was the watchman, he had about four seconds before the flashlight swept across the floor.
What type of introspection appears in the final sentence?
A. Direct thought
B. Author commentary
C. Indirect thought
D. Omniscient narration
6. Which version gives us the most useful information about the character?
A. Maria was nervous about the interview.
B. Maria felt nervous as she waited for the interview.
C. I’m so nervous, Maria thought.
D. Maria checked the folder again. Résumé. References. Portfolio. The only thing missing? Instructions for explaining a six-year hole in her employment history.
7. Which sentence sounds most like a character thinking rather than an author explaining psychology?
A. Her grief caused her to redirect anger toward her sister.
B. She recognized that she was using anger to avoid grief.
C. Her sister didn’t deserve it, but screaming about burnt toast was easier than opening Mom’s closet.
D. She experienced emotional displacement caused by unresolved grief.
8. During a fast action sequence, which approach will usually preserve the most tension?
A. Remove all thought.
B. Stop frequently to explain the character’s motivation.
C. Use brief thoughts tied to danger, decisions, sensations, and immediate goals.
D. Use long italicized internal monologues.
9. Which excerpt gives us the strongest sense of a character’s particular knowledge?
A. The horse looked tired.
B. The gelding stood with his hocks turned out and his head hanging below his withers. Three miles on that rocky ridge road had worn the poor beast down, and Sam didn’t have another shoe in his saddlebag.
C. Sam noticed that the horse was exhausted.
D. This horse is very tired, Sam thought.
10. What is the biggest problem with this passage?
David jumped from the burning car. As he rolled across the asphalt, he remembered the afternoon his father had taught him to steer into a skid. It had been raining that day, and his father had smelled like wintergreen gum and pipe smoke. He’d been fourteen and terrified of scratching the family Buick. His father had laughed and told him—
Flames burst from beneath the hood.
David scrambled toward the embankment.
A. Memories cannot occur during action scenes.
B. The memory is too specific.
C. The memory interrupts an immediate emergency long enough to damage the pacing.
D. Deep POV does not allow flashbacks.
11. What is wrong with this introspection?
Rebecca watched her brother cross the room. Michael was forty-five years old and had been married to his wife, Jennifer, for seventeen years. They had two children, ages twelve and fourteen.
A. Nothing.
B. Rebecca probably has no reason to mentally recite basic facts she already knows about her brother.
C. Deep POV doesn't allow character descriptions.
D. Family information cannot appear in introspection.
12. Which version avoids repeating information the reader already knows?
The letter read: YOUR LOAN APPLICATION HAS BEEN DENIED.
A. He realized the bank had denied his loan.
B. He couldn't believe his loan had been denied.
C. They denied it.
D. Six years without a late payment, and the bank still managed to reduce him to a red DENIED stamp on a form letter.
13. A character sees her husband quickly turn his phone face down when she walks into the room and thinks, He’s cheating.
Does deep POV mean the husband must actually be cheating?
A. Yes. A POV character’s thoughts must be factually accurate.
B. No. The thought tells us what she believes, not necessarily what is true.
C. Yes, unless the book is a mystery.
D. No, but only if she later admits she lied.
14. Which question is most useful when revising a passage of introspection?
A. Have I included enough thoughts on every page?
B. Did I avoid every filter word?
C. What does this thought give the reader that they don’t already have?
D. Did I italicize all important thoughts?
15. Read this:
“You’re fine with me going?” Jake asked.
“Of course.” Nina smiled and handed him his jacket.
The blue one.
Naturally he was wearing the blue one.
She’d told him twice that it made his eyes look good, which apparently made it the perfect thing to wear while having drinks with his ex-girlfriend.
What does the introspection accomplish?
A. It tells us Nina likes blue.
B. It repeats the dialogue.
C. It reveals the difference between what Nina said and how she feels.
D. It proves Jake plans to cheat.
Answer Key
1. B. The irritation comes through the description itself without stopping to tell us that the character is irritated.
2. B. Direct thought can place extra emphasis on a quick, sharp reaction. It isn’t automatically “deeper” than indirect thought; both can create intimacy.
3. B. In most contexts, simply writing The heavy iron latch had slipped out of its groove gives us the observation without the extra step.
4. B. Sometimes the act of noticing is the point. A filter word is a tool, not a grammatical weed that must be pulled every time it appears.
5. C. The thought remains in third person and past tense, but the assessment belongs to Mark.
6. D. We already understand that Maria is nervous. More importantly, we learn what she’s nervous about, and that information gives the emotion a specific source.
7. C. It expresses the character’s grief through a concrete situation rather than having her diagnose herself.
8. C. Characters can still think under pressure, but their thoughts will usually become shorter and more immediate.
9. B. The vocabulary and practical details reflect Sam’s knowledge of horses. Another character looking at the same animal might notice something completely different.
10. C. The problem isn’t that David remembers his father. A quick flash of memory might work beautifully. The problem is that the story pauses a burning-car emergency long enough for David to settle into a leisurely recollection.
11. B. The information may be important to the reader, but Rebecca already knows it. Find a present reason for one or more of those facts to matter.
12. D. The other choices simply repeat the information in the letter. D gives us the character's reaction, showing what rejection means to him.
13. B. Deep POV gives us the character’s interpretation of events. Characters can make bad assumptions, misunderstand people, miss clues, and convince themselves of things that aren’t true.
14. C. This question catches a surprising number of problems. If a thought isn't giving the reader anything new, take another look at whether it needs to be there or whether it could do more.
15. C. Nina’s dialogue says she is fine. Her thoughts tell a very different story. We also learn exactly what detail has snagged her attention—the shirt—which makes the jealousy feel specific rather than generic.
One Last Test for Your Own Manuscript
When you revise a scene written in deep POV, don’t simply search for places where you can add more thoughts.
Instead, look at the thoughts already there and ask:
Would this character really think that now?
Is this thought here because the character needs to think it—or because I need to tell the reader something?
Does the thought reveal anything we don’t already know?
Does it sound like this particular character?
Is the character interpreting what happened, or merely repeating it?
Could the thought reveal a contradiction between what the character says, believes, wants, and does?
Is the character certain about something they could actually be wrong about?
Does the amount of introspection fit the pace of the scene?
Would a direct thought make this particular moment hit harder, or would indirect thought keep the reader closer?
Am I using a filter word because it helps the sentence, or simply because it was the first way I thought to write it?
What would this character notice that another person wouldn’t?
What would this character deliberately avoid thinking about?
The answer to that last question may provide the most interesting information. Sometimes, what a character refuses to think about tells us as much as the thoughts they allow themselves to have. They may avoid a topic or just change the subject every time they get too close to the truth. Sometimes, they might experience emotions they can't quite identify yet. You don't have to explain all of that to the reader. In fact, you probably shouldn't. Let readers learn about the character through deep point of view. Choose the thoughts that reveal something worth knowing and that make the reader feel as though, for a little while, they’re experiencing the story from inside the protagonist’s mind.
