The protagonist and point of view character of the story are usually the same, but they don’t have to be.
Let’s try splitting them apart by writing a story where they’re different, and seeing what we find inside!
During the last stream, a subscriber requested that we write stories where the POV and protagonist are different.
- What does that mean?
- The protagonist of a story is the “leading character,” typically the most “major character” in the unfolding of the plot
- The point of view of a story is the person who is telling it/who we’re seeing it unravel from, and is typically the protagonist…
…but it doesn’t have to be that way! There are examples of stories where the POV of the story is not the protagonist:
- Most Sherlock Holmes stories are from the POV of Watson
- The protagonist of The Great Gatsby is arguably the rich and mysterious Gatsby himself, but it’s told from the POV of Nick Carraway, who gets to know him over the course of the story
- Starting in book two of Game of Thrones, Rob Stark is basically the protagonist, but we never get a chapter from his POV, only his mother’s
After that, chat voted on some story ideas to split apart the POV and protagonist for us to write:
Topic 1: POV of a cashier in a story about a MC who is trying to organize a family reunion, as they run around buying tons of stuff, coming back to return it, etc. as their family totally fails to help them, cancels/rsvps at the last minute, etc.
Here’s what we wrote:
As a cashier, you try not to judge your customers by their purchases. You never want people to feel awkward about buying condoms, lube, diet self-help books or whatever at their local Target. You just scan the items, swipe their card, and forget about them.
But then some dude comes into your checkout lane and drops a load of plastic party plates, a dozen greeting cards, three gallon tubs of Elmer’s glue, and fifty mini LEGO kits on your conveyor belt, and you can’t help but raise an eyebrow.
“Planning a family reunion!” he said to me, eyes twinkling. “We’re gonna make crafts out of the cards and glue, and the LEGO kits symbolize us building back together our strained relations.”
“Great,” I said as monotone as possible. “I didn’t ask.”
He seemed to be in another world as he scooped up his bags and practically danced out the doors. By the time he was gone, an old lady was slapping her shampoo bottles and loaves of whole grain bread on my belt, and he was out of my mind.
Until he came back like an hour or so later, this time unloading a fifth grader’s Willy Wonka fever dream on the belt. Chocolate cakes in plastic containers, boxes of rainbow cookies, stacks of ice cream tubs, plus a couple dozen clear bags of random candies, everything from succulent gummy worms to garbage-tier circus peanuts.“Just had a few people cancel,” he said, the twinkle in his eye slightly dimmed. “They were supposed to bring food, but… hey, no big deal though. I’m happy to supply a little extra!”
“Great,” I said, scanning his discount bag of spicy “Hot Take” Skittles. “I didn’t ask.”
He didn’t listen either, just swiped his card and was on his way, hauling three bags in each arm. The next guy in line shook his head as I scanned his bags of frozen green beans and broccoli.
“Some people,” he grumbled, “they just don’t know how to eat healthy.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, scanning his celery and baby carrots.
Lunch break was an employee-discounted slice of pizza from the store’s built-in Pizza Hut, and a salvaged large-size cup from the trash that they filled up with Coke for me for free. Sweet deal. Then it was back to the till.
And what’s-his-face again. This time with two screaming kids clinging to his legs, pushing a broken TV in a shopping cart.
“Can I return this?” he asked, all joy dried up in his voice. “Figures, the only ones who didn’t cancel on me were the only ones I didn’t want to come. I thought I’d put away everything they could’ve possibly broke, didn’t expect them to—”
“Do you have the receipt?” I asked, not wanting his life story.
“Um, no,” he said sheepishly. “But I did buy it here. Two months ago. In fact I think you were the cashier then too.”
“I didn’t ask about that,” I said. “Anyway. No receipt, no return. Sorry.”
He nodded in solemn understanding, then pushed the cart out the door, dragging the two children along on his feet as they yelled so loud their faces purpled. The doors closing behind them, muffling the noise, was a godsend.
The woman next in line with her cans of Pringles and cough drops, sighed with a smile.
“Children are such a blessing,” she said.
I had no response.
The last three hours of my shift were a blur of milk cartons and Yu-Gi-Oh booster packs and water bottle cases and USB cords. Only ten minutes left until I could go home, heat up my own free expired pizza from the frozen aisle, then go to sleep and repeat the next day. That was like, what, ten customers to go?
And one of them was what’s-his-face, pushing a cart of defeat.
It was full of some of the items he’d already bought: about half of the greeting cards, one tub of the glue, a couple LEGO kits, and an assortment of random candies. As soon as he saw me, he held up the receipts.
“I remembered this time,” he said. “Everyone bailed on me. Even the brats. Guess we’re not going to be building back together our strained relations.”
“Sucks,” I said. “Anyway. You want to return all of this?”
He nodded, then curled a smile.
“Yes, but there’s one thing I don’t want to return. This moment I’m sharing with you! Even though the reunion was a disaster, you were a constant anchor for me all day long, providing some much needed consistency throughout the chaos. So I guess what I’m saying is, hey, do you want to help me turn these lemons into lemonade and go get a coffee sometime or something?”
I stopped scanning in his return and lazily pointed into the store.
“Coffee’s in aisle three. You can get it there. Alone.”
Topic 2: POV of the writer crafting a story about a protagonist and what’s going through the writer’s head as they do it.
Here’s what we wrote:
Damn. How the hell can I start Shiro’s story?
I need him to somehow get transported to another world, but I don’t want to, like, hurt him, you know? Having a truck slam into him or have him get stabbed or shot, that would just suck. I don’t want to get stabbed or shot.
How about I just have Shiro peacefully die in his sleep. Maybe he has a heart condition. Maybe he’s been taking pills for it since third grade. Maybe his mother forgot to buy them for that one month when he was fourteen and he woke up in a paralyzing sweat. And then died. Yeah. That works.
So Shiro gets to the other world… and then what? I can have him try to save the princess! Yeah. Princess. Princess… Stephanie, from his third period biology class. Yeah. He’ll have to fight some hard monsters on the way to get to her, like the slimes and the ogres and the dragons, and he’ll struggle to defeat them but learn a lot along the—
No! Wait. Actually, I can just have him EASILY defeat them. That’s so much cooler. Oh! And, all the monsters turn into hot girls too. Whoa. They’re so impressed with his skill that they follow along and can, like, I don’t know? Do some healing magic? That’s not really important. What matters is that they constantly fight over him, but he only has eyes for Stepahnie because Shiro is a nice guy. And all the other girls respect Shiro’s resolve to go out with Stephanie, and they decide that it’s okay for him to have multiple wives
Then. Then! Shiro fights his way into the evil sorcerer’s tower, where Stephanie is being held! And there’s some REALLY tough monsters there. Like a hydra that spits acid and tears through his armor, and a land-squid that can fly and suckles away at his face, and… actually, nah. He should just defeat them really easily. One swipe from his sword. Ka-POW! Because Shiro is so strong!
Oh! And then, at the top of the tower, is Stephanie waiting for Shiro, and the evil sorcerer. He then pulls back the hood of his cloak revealing that he was actually… Kevin! Er, Kevlin… Kevillain. No, Kevlãn. The transfer student who took over the social scene just when I… I mean Shiro… was starting to get popular. He’d also gotten sent here before Shiro and chose to become evil instead. Because he’s a jerk.
Then Stephanie tells Shiro to look inside himself and use what he’d learned over the course of his journey to defeat Kevlãn, but he just slices him in two and wins on the spot instead. And then Shiro saves a town from disease, kills the corrupt clergy, feeds the hungry, and… I don’t know? He also invents soy sauce. Love that stuff on tacos.
Finally, Shiro asks Stephanie to go out with him, by offering her a book of their adventures together that he’d written. And then their True Love pops them back into the real world and they go on a date to get tacos… but! Oh man. The girl clerk behind the counter is one of Shiro’s monster-harem-members!
Wow. This story is so good, I don’t even need to write it anymore!
If you want to join us and help write a story by trolling in chat, or share your own writing for feedback, then we’d love to have you join us on Twitch.
And you missed the stream, you can still watch them on the YouTube channel or watch the full stream reruns.
Hope to see you next time, friend!
Top image: Pakutaso