Writing from Second Person Point of View

Writing from second person point of view means when you directly address the reader – using ‘you’.

In this blog, we’re focusing on fiction writing.

Using second person has the effect of drawing the reader more closely into the story. It transforms them into one of the book’s characters.

As the narrator, you may also use ‘you’ to directly address the audience. However, it’s more common to make the second-person referent of stories a character within the story (Wikipedia, Narration).

The most common points of view in contemporary writing

Most contemporary writing uses either:

first person point of view – ‘I’ or ‘we’, or

third person point of view – ‘she’ or ‘he’ or ‘they’ or even ‘it’.

It ain’t easy!

Make no mistake about it – writing an entire novel from second person point of view is not easy!

Let’s write a passage from the three points of view mentioned above to see the difference.

Example 1 – 1^st person point of view: I arrive at the house that Max said was haunted. I’ll wait behind the bushes to see if he’s told me the truth.

Example 2 – 3^rd person point of view: They arrive at the house that Max said was haunted. They’ll wait behind the bushes to see if he’s told them the truth.

Example 3 – 2nd person point of view: You arrive at the house that Max said was haunted. You’ll wait behind the bushes to see if he’s told you the truth.

Seems easy enough in a couple of simple sentences. But try to write several pages and see if you still think so.

An exercise

I’ll set you a challenge.

Take several pages from a passage of your writing written in either first or third person – i.e. from

‘I’ or ‘we’ point of view, or

‘he’ / ‘she’ / ‘they’ / ‘it’ point of view.

The writing may be something you’re working on currently, or something you’ve written a while ago. It may also be a novel, or a short story. It really doesn’t matter, as long as you have a passage of around five to ten pages.

Now rewrite the same passage in second person point of view.

My example

Here’s an example from my novel Winter in Mallorca, Turmoil to Triumph. In the book, I wrote the passage in third person, from the point of view of the protagonist, Aurore Dupin (better known by her pseudonym George Sand. To give you some context, a few months after this scene, she and Chopin embark on an eleven-year love affair).

Below, I’ve only rewritten a few paragraphs. I recommend that you rewrite several pages, so that you get an accurate feel for writing from second person point of view.

Writing from second person point of view

You drew deeply on your cigar and swept into the drawing room haloed in smoke. Flaunting your trademark masculine garments, black boots and trousers of rough grey cloth with matching waistcoat, your large dark eyes blazed defiance, daring anyone who might challenge your contempt of convention. You took in the faces of the silly women fanning themselves, some smirking, others with their lips compressed as if they were tasting something unpleasant as they watched your bold entrance. ‘If they knew how ugly they looked,’ you murmured to yourself, ‘they’d be mortified.’ This made you smile, and several of the ladies looked unsettled, touching their throats or fussing with their hair.

A group of older ladies sat together tittering and you made little attempt to conceal your scorn, although you gave them a cool nod of polite acknowledgement as you passed. Ignorant your entire lives, you thought, whiling away your time in idle character assassination to conceal your boredom.

While your keen gaze picked these disapproving individuals from the crowd, most of the attention this evening was focused on another. Everyone had gathered to hear Chopin play. Drawn by your love of fine music and your fascination with the public adulation of this man who so intrigued you, tonight, you would hear him play for the first time. You must see and hear for yourself what all the fuss was about.

Frédéric Chopin was sitting straight-backed at the piano, a tall, frail figure, wearing an expensive frock coat. In profile to you, he revealed an aquiline nose, pleasingly shaped lips and dark blond curls brushing the collar of his coat. While the hostess welcomed the select gathering, he sat still and quiet at the piano, head bent, eyes closed as if in a deep trance and intent on blotting out the gathering. But his long, tapered fingers gave away his contemplations, catching your attention. While the rest of his body obediently and politely waited for the hostess to finish her introductions, his rebellious fingers moved restlessly above the keys, impatient to begin.

He was not handsome, but the sight and physical awareness of him made you catch your breath. An indefinable air of melancholy enveloped him, a sense of past tragedy and future suffering. It moved you to tears. The feeling was beyond anything you had ever felt for any man, beyond mere sexual attraction. You were so shaken by this unexpectedly passionate emotion that you had to remind yourself of your obligation and duty to your children and live-in paramour, Félicien Mallefille.

Only partially aware of the gracious introduction of the hostess, you were startled when Chopin began to play. His music was soft, caressing, though there was nothing light or superficial about it. You had been standing, but now you sought a seat on the opposite side of the room, away from the candlelight, away from the eyes of others. You could study his face now, observe his subtle changes in emotion. He was in harmony with the Pleyel piano, as if it were an extension of himself. Unlike so many other artists of the time, he did not play with intemperate passion while frowning pretentiously. The cadence of his music was so pure it seemed to surround him with light. His playing was elegant and effortless, his fingers caressing the keys. Now, you understood what the poet Hyacinthe de la Touche had meant in his letter to you when he’d called Chopin ‘that pallid Pole who holds the Heavens open’.

You recognised with wonder that although the music had been introduced as an existing piece, he was reliving the entire composition. At that moment, it was for him a fresh piece, a miracle in sound, flowing from his fingers for the very first time.

When he finished playing, he raised his head, slowly emerging from the trance. As you were in the direct path of his vision, he looked straight at you. Weeping, overcome with emotion, in a trance as he had been, you made no attempt to wipe away the tears. There was no need for pretence or feigned modesty. No void separated you both. For a fleeting, pure moment, you were in perfect communion as fellow artists.

Drawing the reader in

You’ll notice from the above rewrite that because the writing is directed at you the reader personally, it draws you right in to the scene.

Famous examples of writing from second person point of view

If you’d like to check out how the experts do it, here is a suggested reading list:

The novel Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas by Tom Robbins
The short fiction of Lorrie Moore and Junot Díaz
The short story The Egg by Andy Weir
The French, Second Thoughts by Michel Butor
And to end, here are the opening lines of Jay McInerney’s Bright Lights, Big City (1984). You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning. But here you are, and you cannot say that the terrain is entirely unfamiliar, although the details are fuzzy.

Are you planning on tackling a work of significant length by writing from second person point of view? Then I’d definitely recommend that you read some of the above works first. Study how these authors have done it.