Points of View
Select a suitable point of view (first, second, or third person) for better audience connection
In a short story such as ours which emphasises the power of the journey rather than the destination, the choice of Point of View (POV) will play a pivotal role in shaping the narrative experience. The POV dictates whose perspective the story is told from and influences how readers engage with the journey.
Opting for a first-person POV, where the narrator is directly involved in the journey, provides an intimate and personal lens. This allows readers to experience the events, emotions, and reflections of the protagonist in a direct and immediate manner. The emphasis on the journey becomes pronounced as readers navigate the narrative through the protagonist's subjective experience, fostering a deeper connection to the evolving events.
Alternatively, a third-person limited POV, focusing on the thoughts and experiences of the protagonist, offers a more objective view while still delving into the internal workings of the main character. This allows for a nuanced exploration of the journey while maintaining a degree of narrative distance.
Ultimately, the chosen POV shapes how the journey is perceived and highlights the character's internal and external transformations. Whether through an intimate first-person account or a closely aligned third-person perspective, the narrative lens influences readers' connection to the journey's unfolding events, contributing to the overarching theme of valuing the process over the destination in the short story.
We asked ChatGPT if second person POV should be considered
While second person point of view (POV) can be used in certain contexts, it may present challenges in a short story emphasizing the power of the journey rather than the destination. Second person addresses the reader directly, placing them in the shoes of the protagonist.
While second person POV can offer unique benefits in terms of reader engagement and connection, it may also pose challenges in terms of character depth and potential reader resistance.
Grok gives their perspective on which point of view is most relevant for our story
A first-person narrative offers an immersive exploration of the protagonist's inner world, delving into their thoughts, emotions, and personal growth, making it particularly effective when character development is a focal point. However, this perspective has limitations, confining the narrative to the protagonist's viewpoint and potentially limiting access to other characters' thoughts and feelings. Despite this, the first-person narrative allows for the development of a distinct voice and style for the protagonist, offering a powerful storytelling tool.
So let’s put each perspective to a test with a creative writing challenge. We’ll get both ChatGPT and Grok to write the scene where Pandi realises that she has purchased the wrong ticket to Aluva instead of Alappuzha from both the first and third person points of view.
We will provide all of the character information, and setting discussed in previous articles to give them both a winning chance.
Here is a creative writing Challenge, please write at least three paragraphs from the first (or third) person perspective. There is no need to introduce the protagonist.
The protagonist is an 18 year old woman named Pandi. She is an adaptable and open-minded individual, resilient and open to unexpected opportunities, has a cooperative and adventurous spirit and embodies a sociable nature and genuine interest in connecting with others She attempts to purchase a ticket to Alappuzha station in the South Indian state of Kerala, however the person at the ticket counter doesn't understand her and issues a ticket to Aluva instead.
The train leaves only minutes after the ticket has been issued and after rushing on board and finding a seat Pandi looks at the ticket and realises she is going to the wrong destination.
Grok (1st Person)
The train lurched forward, a cacophony of clanging metal and screeching wheels. I gripped the worn seat beneath me, heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the ticket in my trembling hands. Aluva. The name taunted me, a glaring reminder of my rushed mistake. How could I have been so careless? My intended destination, Alappuzha, lay far from the route this train would take me on.
As the train gathered speed, I felt the weight of my predicament settle on my shoulders. The warm, humid air of the South Indian night clung to my skin, amplifying my anxiety. The compartment was filled with the chatter of fellow passengers, their voices blending into a symphony of unfamiliar languages and dialects. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.
The journey to Aluva would take hours, and once I arrived, I had no idea what I would do. My mind raced, searching for a solution. I could get off at the next station and try to find my way back to where I started. But that could mean losing my ticket, and I didn't have the money to buy another. My thoughts were interrupted by a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned to find an elderly woman smiling at me, her eyes crinkled in concern. She spoke in a language I didn't understand, but her gestures were clear. She pointed to my ticket and then to her own, nodding encouragingly.
It was then that I realized, despite the language barrier and my predicament, I was not alone. This woman, a stranger, was trying to help me. A sense of relief washed over me as I allowed myself to be guided by her kindness. Perhaps this misadventure was not a disaster after all, but a chance to experience the unexpected. As the train rattled on, I settled back in my seat, embracing the uncertainty of the journey ahead.
Grok (3rd Person)
The train lurched forward, a cacophony of clanging metal and screeching wheels. She gripped the worn seat beneath her, heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the ticket in her trembling hands. Aluva. The name taunted her, a glaring reminder of her rushed mistake. How could she have been so careless? Her intended destination, Alappuzha, lay far from the route this train would take her on.
As the train gathered speed, she felt the weight of her predicament settle on her shoulders. The warm, humid air of the South Indian night clung to her skin, amplifying her anxiety. The compartment was filled with the chatter of fellow passengers, their voices blending into a symphony of unfamiliar languages and dialects. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
The journey to Aluva would take hours, and once she arrived, she had no idea what she would do. Her mind raced, searching for a solution. She could get off at the next station and try to find her way back to where she started. But that could mean losing her ticket, and she didn't have the money to buy another. Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned to find an elderly woman smiling at her, her eyes crinkled in concern. She spoke in a language she didn't understand, but her gestures were clear. She pointed to her ticket and then to her own, nodding encouragingly.
It was then that she realized, despite the language barrier and her predicament, she was not alone. This woman, a stranger, was trying to help her. A sense of relief washed over her as she allowed herself to be guided by her kindness. Perhaps this misadventure was not a disaster after all, but a chance to experience the unexpected. As the train rattled on, she settled back in her seat, embracing the uncertainty of the journey ahead.

Despite some obvious errors, for example: She pointed to her ticket and then to her own, nodding encouragingly
the story is fairly well told and provides a good starting point for comparison with the original narrative summary intent and additional details that will make for a compelling read,
Now ChatGPT’s turn.
ChatGPT (1st Person)
The hustle of the train station pulses around me, a rhythm I've come to embrace in my travels across India. At the ticket counter, my attempt to communicate is met with a kind, but confused smile. "One ticket to Alappuzha, please," I repeat, but the words seem to get lost in translation. Moments later, I clutch the small paper ticket, unaware of the tiny misstep that's about to reroute my journey. The clock is ticking down, and with a hurried thank you, I weave through the crowd, the cacophony of voices and clattering tracks filling the air.
On board, the train's gentle sway offers a moment of respite. I slide into an empty seat, my backpack a comforting weight against my feet. It's then, in the quiet lull of the moving train, that I glance at the ticket in my hand. My heart skips a beat. Aluva, not Alappuzha. A mix-up. A twist in my carefully laid plans. But then, a smile tugs at my lips. This is what travel is about, isn't it? Embracing the unexpected, finding adventure in the detours. Aluva, then. A new destination, an unplanned adventure. My curiosity stirs, imagining the sights and sounds that await.
I lean back, watching the landscape blur past the window, a kaleidoscope of greens and browns. My mind wanders, crafting scenarios of what Aluva might hold. Markets filled with spices, streets echoing with the melody of a language I'm still learning, strangers who might become friends. I've always believed that every place, every person has a story to share if you're willing to listen. Aluva is just another chapter, unplanned but not unwelcome. Adventure, after all, is not just in the destination, but in the journey. And this journey, I realize, is just beginning.
ChatGPT (3rd Person)
In the bustling heart of the train station, Pandi stands out with her adventurous spirit. Her eyes, wide with the excitement of travel, scan the crowds and the signs, seeking her next destination: Alappuzha, a name she has repeated to herself like a mantra. At the ticket counter, her request is met with a nod, but the language barrier twists her intention in an unexpected way. Unbeknownst to her, the ticket she receives, clutched tightly in her hand as she thanks the attendant, is not a passage to Alappuzha, but to Aluva, a destination she had never planned to explore.
As the train whistles its impending departure, Pandi dashes aboard, her steps echoing with the urgency of someone who knows the value of every minute in a journey. She finds a seat just as the train lurches forward, the steady rhythm of the tracks a calming presence amidst the chaos of her rush. It's in this moment of tranquility, as she examines her ticket more closely, that the realization dawns on her. Aluva. A simple mix-up at the ticket counter has rerouted her path, turning her well-planned journey into an impromptu adventure.
Pandi looks out the window, her gaze following the landscapes that race by. With each passing mile, her initial shock gives way to a sense of anticipation. Aluva, unknown and unplanned, now holds a promise of new experiences. It's this very unpredictability that fuels her love for travel – the chance encounters, the unseen sights, the stories waiting to be discovered. As the train carries her further from her intended path, Pandi embraces the change in her itinerary. After all, for an open-minded and resilient soul like hers, every detour is an opportunity, and every unexpected stop, a new adventure waiting to unfold.
Analysis
In both cases, the first person perspective addressed the point raised by ChatGPT in a previous article on Character Development.
Ultimately, without a detailed exploration of Pandi's internal thoughts, emotions, and reflections, it's challenging to definitively assert her character development.
The first-person narrative offers a more intimate and immediate experience. It allows readers to see the world through Pandi's eyes, creating a deeper emotional connection with her character. This perspective highlights Pandi's thoughts and feelings directly, giving a clearer insight into her personality and reactions.
The third-person narrative, on the other hand, provides a broader view. It offers the flexibility to describe Pandi and her surroundings more objectively. This perspective can provide more details about the setting and other characters from a more neutral standpoint.
An idea comes to mind reading Grok’s first person account. We don’t yet have motivation for what Pandi is so trustful of strangers (despite it being part of her personality). What if Pandi attempts to deal with this wrong ticket situation by not reaching out or taking advice from a stranger and that strengthens her resolve to be more accepting of help from subsequent encounters with the optometrist, British tourists and the Tea Plantation owner?
Let’s take this idea along with ideas from our AI collaborators and weave this element into our story
Standing amidst the swirling colours and sounds of the train station, I feel a familiar surge of excitement. Today's destination: Alappuzha. Or so I think, as I try my best to convey this to the ticket clerk. His puzzled look adds to the charm of this moment, a testament to the adventurous unpredictability of travel. Ticket in hand, I rush to catch the train, barely noticing the fellow traveler who tries to catch my attention. Maybe he has a story to share, a piece of advice, but in my haste, I smile politely and move on. There's no time for chit-chat, I think, Alappuzha awaits.
It's only when I settle into my seat, the train humming beneath me, that I examine my ticket. Aluva, it reads. Not Alappuzha. A mix-up. A sinking feeling washes over me, and I can't help but wonder about the stranger at the station. Could he have known, tried to warn me? In my eagerness to stick to my plans, I'd shut out an opportunity for connection, for that shared wisdom travelers often have. There's a pang of regret, a realisation that sometimes the journey isn't just about the places we go, but the people we meet along the way.
As the train carries me further from where I intended to go, I gaze out at the passing scenery, each frame a reminder of the unexpected turns life can take. This trip to Aluva, unplanned and uncharted, now holds a different kind of adventure. It's a lesson in itself - not just in the importance of clear communication, but in the value of the fleeting connections we encounter. Each person we cross paths with carries a piece of the puzzle, a key to a smoother journey, a story, or a lesson. Today, I learn that sometimes, reaching out, taking that offered piece of advice, can make all the difference in the journey we undertake.
The discussion on which point of view to take should also include some alternatives such as blending first and third person together in the one narrative.

There are great examples of stories where both first and third person points of view are merged together. What if our short story was a set of journal entries weaved around the broader narrative? This literary technique can create a dynamic and multifaceted narrative experience. Here are a few examples:
"Dracula" by Bram Stoker: This classic novel is a prime example of merging first and third person perspectives. It combines journal entries, letters, and newspaper articles (all in first person) with a narrative that is largely in the third person. This blend allows readers to delve into the inner thoughts and experiences of multiple characters while also maintaining an overarching narrative viewpoint.
"The Color Purple" by Alice Walker: This novel primarily uses first-person through the protagonist Celie's letters to God and her sister. However, it also employs a third-person perspective to provide a broader view of the other characters and the setting, creating a rich, multi-layered narrative.
"The Moonstone" by Wilkie Collins: Considered one of the first detective novels, "The Moonstone" uses multiple narratives. The story is told through a series of first-person accounts by different characters, combined with portions that are narrated in the third person. This approach gives the reader varied perspectives on the central mystery.
"As I Lay Dying" by William Faulkner: Faulkner's novel is known for its experimental narrative structure. It features first-person accounts from multiple characters, interspersed with sections in the third person. This method creates a deep and complex portrayal of the characters' inner and outer worlds.
"The Sound and the Fury" by William Faulkner: Another Faulkner novel, this one utilizes a mix of first-person (through stream-of-consciousness monologues) and third-person narratives. Each section is devoted to a different member of the Compson family, providing a multifaceted view of the family's decline.
We will have a chance to dive deeper into this and many other topics when we expand our narrative summary into a detailed plot in an upcoming article.
Thanks
ChatGPT and Grok for the in-depth discussion on Point of View. And thanks to Midjourney and Bing Image Creator for showcasing attempts at rendering GenAI images from different points of view.