single POV vs dual POV romance

what is up with the surge of dual-perspective/double Point-of-View (POV) in romance?

i’ve been thinking about this for reasons. one of those reasons will be exciting to you all, yes. the other reasons are about curiosity as a reader and the intellectual study of writing craft.

it is rare these days to pick up a romance novel of any genre—contemporary, fantasy, romantasy—and not have the narrative go through the eyes of both love interests. and more and more often, i’m finding that the narrative suffers for this, either becoming repetitive, or making the characters seem foolish because they can’t read the obvious signs that we, the reader privy to both characters’ inner landscapes, can see.

so as i started working on this project and another, i really looked at what perspective i wanted. one story, which we’ll call codename:moon, very obviously wanted to be told from one person’s perspective. the location was static and the two lovers would be in relatively close proximity for the whole novel. there would however, be things that character A would not know about character B, not until later in the novel. there’s a temptation, thus, to give the reader a peek behind the curtain of character B so that they can know what’s up—

but then we lose the mystery. we release the tension that comes from the reader wondering alongside character A why character B leans away, why they make that move, say that thing, flex their nostrils really wide then cover their nose like you stink in a weird way—we lose all of that.

and sure, we trade it for a different mystery—the mystery of when character A will find out and what they will do when they do. but that isn’t as strong as the mystery of the truth itself. too often, character A’s response is pretty anti-climactic or it results in a kinda weak sauce third-act breakup that we know is only going to last for a couple of chapters.

if we stay in the mystery of the truth, however, if we stay in character A’s perspective, we also get to fall in love with character B with the same knowledge and affection as character A. we also get to understand character A better, too—all of that juicy word count is devoted to one person’s inner workings instead of split between two. (this is one of the great difficulties of epic fantasy, too.) it also keeps a romance from feeling rushed, because you don’t have to effectively HALVE the time you get to witness a person fall in love. instead of watching character A fall for 5 scenes, and character B fall for 5 scenes, you get one character for 10 scenes. it also builds up that yearning potential, which i know some of you loooove.

that said.

the other book i was thinking about, let’s call it codename:hunter—as much as i wanted to make it a single-POV novel, it felt like too much would have been left out. both characters had a important opinions and powers and other relationships that felt necessary to give breath to. most importantly, there were just key moments in the book that were important from a narrative perspective that needed to be seen—or at least, i think needed to be seen. there were different factions. it’s possible that a draft could work with just the one. there could be certain contrivances, a bit of eavesdropping here, a tattle-tale witness there. but even so, early noodling on it still made me feel that portions of the story would be boring if i had to keep switching perspectives for no reason.

the hardest part, however, was this: when i’m picking perspectives for a story, long or short, the question is always, Who has the most at stake? Who stands to lose the most?

with codename:moon, both characters need something badly, but one character is doing the most, narratively. she’s got the most moving pieces and the most to lose. it makes sense that she’d be the primary POV. with codename:hunter, though, both characters have a lot on the line. the easiest answer might have been to fill the space, make the book longer so they both get a good amount of page time. the other answer might be to be a bit more judicious: if pushed to it, i do think i know who deserves a single POV in that pairing. but i’d have to weigh up the emotional notes of getting to see each person change from the inside, compared to watching one of them change from the outside, only. would it be worth it?

the other challenge with the single POV is, how do you make sure the outside character feels as nuanced and deep as the person we’re spending all of our time with? essentially, that is all character work, since rarely does every book take time in every character’s POV, but when you’re writing a romance, there’s an immense pressure to make the LI (love interest) just as full as the MC (main character).

had a lot of fun thinking about this. also a great consideration for your fantasies, though usually that’s done for more practical reasons, like various factions and locales and simultaneous events that the reader needs to see. (which, sure, may also apply to a romance.)

anyway. as with all craft choices, i don’t believe in asking permission or worrying if something is in vogue or not. my answer when someone asks, “can i [xyz]?” “i dunno, can you? you can if you can.” every craft choice is a skill. every craft choice should be a deliberate one. even the choice to disregard something. point of view especially should be considered carefully for the effects it creates, which full knowledge of what you sacrifice with that choice.

this has been craft with clark! woop woop! how do you feel about dual-POV romances? single POV romances?

stay sharp, y’all.

C. L.