June 29, 2020: I downloaded a recorded class from a previous Romance Writers of America conference on the subject of “deep POV.”
Deep POV (point of view) is what great writers do to inform you about their characters without spoon-feeding you, and it’s something that I aspire to. The goal is – describe other people or things in a way that tells you more about the narrator. Cool, huh?
So the Deep POV session included author Sonali Dev – and they read a passage from her book “Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors” that was so damned tasty that I remembered with a happy jolt that I actually had the book – printed, bound, paper and ink book – in my To Be Read pile. Joy!!
I’m late to the party; people far more noteworthy than me have already sung their praises… but now I’m joining in late. That’s a good read! Number of eye-rolls: ZERO. Complex plot, smart people, challenges created by circumstance and not stupidity. Two thumbs up!
Want to read the passage that lured me in? I type it in here without permission. The chef (Our Hero) provides a tasting menu to the surgeon (Our Heroine):
Her neck was the first thing he’d noticed about her. She had the longest neck he’d ever seen, with delicate tendons bracketing the hollow that dipped at the base of her throat where all the luminescence of her skin seemed to gather. Sitting at the kitchen island on those tall, elegant stools that seemed like an extension of her body, her neck stretched as though she were reaching into his flavors with her entire being. He stood over her unable to look away as she chewed and swallowed and closed her eyes on a sigh.
“Oh my God,” she said, her eyes fluttering open. Her pupils were dilated, that finely-boned jaw moving in slow savoring beats, those long, sensible surgeon’s fingers dancing in front of her lips as though she wanted to lick the taste of his food off them. “You cannot possibly feed this to people.”
He swallowed.
“What about it bothers you?” he asked, knowing full well that he was fishing. Like a pathetic little boy trying to please his mother. All the bloody time.
“The fact that you only made me one.”
Oh, you know you want to keep reading. Through that one passage, you know you’re in capable, skilled, sensuous hands. And, since you read a book every day, you can fit this one in, too. Right?
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