Playing with Point of View – Alias

I’ve been chatting with a few readers about writing Alias from a first person point of view, and happened to mention a recent writing exercise from the Bold Strokes author retreat where we played around with switching the POVs in a particular scene. The workshop gave me my one and only chance to write from Pryce’s POV and I said I’d share it on here for people to have a toot at.

It was written on quite a tight deadline, and I’d probably have included more detail had this been in the actual book, but I think it makes for an interesting read regardless.

There are MASSIVE spoilers from the end of the book for anyone who hasn’t read it, so proceed under the cut with caution…

Excerpt from Alias 

Re-jigged version – third person from Bronwen Pryce’s perspective.

It wasn’t much, just a whisper of sound, something different to the thud of boots circling her, and the threats, and the wet smack of his fist on her face. Bron tried to raise her head, but it felt too heavy, her chin bobbing against her chest every time she took a breath behind the tape. She knew Alis was there, knew it before she heard the gasp of distress and the soft “Oh God”, and she clenched her swollen fingers as tears filled her eyes. She had been strapped to this chair for three days. Three days of pain and terror and humiliation. She had held out for as long as she could, but Dee had broken her in the end, and now Alis was here, and they were both going to die.

“Sorry, Al. It couldn’t be helped,” Jez said, as if he and Alis were still good mates and this was just one of those things. Bron couldn’t see him clearly, but he was in his usual place on the sofa. Keeping out of the way, trying to keep his hands clean.

“You fucking arsehole!” Alis yelled. There was a scuffle of feet. She had probably tried to go for his throat, but the movement ceased almost at once, though she continued to hurl insults at him. “You’re supposed to be a police officer, Jez. What the fuck happened to you, you pathetic piece of shit?”

“Like I said, it couldn’t be helped,” Jez said, and Bron managed to lift her head in time to see Alis spit at him.

“Fuck you, mate,” Alis said, and then noticed that Bron had stirred. “Hey,” she said softly.

The tape across Bron’s mouth stopped her from answering. Shame made her close her eyes again, sending tears streaking down her cheeks, the salt stinging the open wounds there.

“This isn’t your fault,” Alis told her, and Bron choked a sob behind the tape. “How long have you been here?” Alis asked. She sounded horrified, as if she’d just worked the logistics through. When Bron managed to look at her, she was staring at the line of cigarette burns that snaked up Bron’s right arm.

“Too fucking long,” Dee snarled.

“Easy, Dee,” Jez said. He got off the sofa and walked closer to Alis. He was trying to smile, assuming the role of good cop. “We need the flash drive, Al. Where is it?”

She glared at him. “Let her go and I’ll tell you.”


“No!” She slapped at the hand he held out to her. “Let her go! Let her go, and you can have your fucking drive.”

The bang was so loud and sudden that Bron lurched in the chair, unable to identify its source until Jez lowered his gun. The bullet had missed her by a couple of feet, hitting the wall and sending chips of stone flying. Panic made her chest heave, and her nostrils flared as she fought to suck in enough air.

“For fuck’s sake, Jez,” Dee said. “You couldn’t hit a barn door.” He laughed, and stepped away from Alis, and that was all the warning Bron got. She barely heard him fire, but the bullet slammed into her left shoulder, the impact throwing her back. She took the chair with her, crashing sideways onto the floor. The pain stole what little breath she had managed to catch. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but lie there as her blood pumped onto the carpet.

“Get it done,” Dee said, his voice a tinny echo. “I’m going for a piss.”

Jez obviously hadn’t reacted quickly enough to the instruction, because Alis knelt by Bron’s side and peeled the tape from her lips. Bron groaned as Alis clamped a hand on the ragged hole the bullet had torn in her back. The pressure sent needles of fire down her arm and into her chest. She felt as if she was suffocating.

“Shh, stay still,” Alis said. “Stay still.”

“Alis,” Jez said. He was standing above her, not pulling her away but not doing anything useful either. “He won’t be gone for long.”

“I know,” she said. “Fucking help me, then.”

“I can’t. I need the drive. Where is it?” He crouched and put the gun against Bron’s forehead. The muzzle was still warm from his earlier shot, but it wouldn’t leave a mark like the cigarette stubs that Dee had used. “I won’t miss from here.”

Despite her terror, Bron focused on Alis rather than the metal pressing into her skin. “Alis, don’t,” she whispered, but Alis shook her head, her face pale and stricken.

“It’s in my cast,” she told Jez without hesitation. “You’ll have to cut it off.”

He nodded and lifted his gun clear. “Kitchen,” he said. “Come on.”

He yanked at her arm, urging her to her feet, and Bron saw her stumble as he dragged her away. The footsteps and then the voices faded, leaving Bron alone in the room. Resting her forehead against the carpet, she steeled herself for what she was about to do. She wasn’t going to let Alis fight the men on her own, and she knew that Alis would fight, given the slightest opportunity. On a count of three, Bron pulled her wrists, straining and twisting them to try to loosen the tape that bound her to the chair. As it had on so many other occasions, the tape held, and the pain that tore through her shoulder turned her vision grey at the edges. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead, and she started to shiver.

“Shit,” she whispered. “Shit.”

The room faded in and out, the pattern on the carpet blurring and sharpening at random intervals. She could smell blood and cordite, and the aftershave Dee would wear after he’d used her shower. A sharp series of bangs from the kitchen made her jump, and moments later the living room door creaked open. She tensed, preparing to offer whatever resistance she could if it was Dee coming for her, but instead it was Alis, who skidded to a halt beside her, dropping towels and a pair of scissors onto the carpet.

“Where? What…happened?” Bron panted for air between the words, looking beyond Alis to the door.

“I bashed him.” Alis displayed her ruined cast, with the drives poking from a hole near her thumb. Aside from a fresh bruise on her jaw, she looked to have come through the scrap unscathed, and Bron couldn’t help but smile. “Where’s Dee?” Alis asked.

“Don’t know…never came back,” Bron whispered. “Leave me. Better on your own.”

“Not a chance. Don’t talk bollocks.” Alis cut the tape at Bron’s ankles and started on the band that was wound beneath her breasts. “Besides, we’ve got a gun now.”

“Ever fired one?” Bron gasped as her torso slipped. Alis gripped hold of her as best she could with one functional arm, kicking the chair away to guide Bron to the floor.

“No, but how hard can it be?” Alis shrugged but then winced in sympathy as she freed Bron’s wrists. “Sorry, almost done.”

“Can’t—can’t feel much,” Bron said, and then cried out as Alis brought her arms forward and turned her onto her uninjured side. “God,” she whispered. “Oh God, don’t!”

Ignoring her pleas, Alis knotted a towel in the middle and pushed the knot hard against the exit wound. The resultant agony ripped a scream from Bron. She tried to roll away, but Alis’s knees gripped her like a vice, keeping her still as Alis plugged the hole in her back and tied the second towel around the first.

“All done. I’m done,” Alis told her, but Bron knew they weren’t done, that they were going to have to get up and get out, because it had already been too long and Dee was going to find them and kill them both. She didn’t make a sound as Alis lifted her into a sitting position; she had spent three days screaming, and enough was enough. She sagged against Alis for a couple of seconds, and Alis stroked the hair away from her forehead.

“On three,” Alis said. “Ready?”


About Cari Hunter

Cari Hunter is the author of "Snowbound", "Desolation Point" and "Tumbledown", "Alias", "Breathe", and the Dark Peak series of crime thrillers - "No Good Reason", "Cold to the Touch", and "A Quiet Death" - all published by Bold Strokes Books. Her new novel "Unbreakable" is now available to buy.
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12 Responses to Playing with Point of View – Alias

  1. canuckeh says:

    Awesome! Thank you.

  2. Very interesting exercise, it’s good to see how it puts Bron in the limelight but also shows that, in my opinion, it was appropriate to set the point of view from Alis in the novel.

    • Cari Hunter says:

      Oh absolutely. I have no regrets about writing this one in first person, I think it fit the story and Alis’s character perfectly. I’d never written in first person before and I loved the intimacy it gave to the narrative and the ability to discover the plot and its twists right alongside Alis – you literally don’t know what’s coming before she does and that worked so well for this kind of novel. I’d write first person again in a heartbeat if I came up with another story to suit it.

  3. 58chilihed13 says:

    First person narrative has never been my go to pick for reading, but it was absolutely the best choice for this story and I enjoyed it greatly! Hope we will be seeing more of Alis and Bron in the near future! Well done!

    • Cari Hunter says:

      First person is a bit like Marmite for some people – love it or hate it 🙂 I’ve always enjoyed reading it (one of my favourite mainstream fantasy series – Kushiel’s Dart et al is first person and it’s epic!) and I absolutely loved writing in it. It suited Alias down to the ground and I really don’t think the book would have worked as a standard third person POV, or it wouldn’t have worked quite so well. I was nervous about writing a lesfic book in first, because it’s often the “I hate it” option on reader surveys but for Alias, so far at least, it seems to have been well received. Cheers for the feedback 😀

      • First person pov is not always hated by us readers… EJ Noyes always writes in first person and she consistently gets very good reviews.

        • Cari Hunter says:

          Like I said, it’s sort of a Marmite kind of thing. There were a couple of POV surveys on lesfic FB groups after I’d written Alias that had quite a significant number of respondents saying how much they disliked first person – I remember them because I was sitting there thinking “uh oh” at the time. It’s not always hated, but it’s something other than the norm and that can be a risk.

  4. Patti says:

    I loved it. Great to see Pryces’ point of view. And hearing her first name. 🙂

    • Cari Hunter says:

      Thanks, it was really interesting to switch things around and write from her perspective and I intentionally chose to rejig a section where she was alone for some of the time, giving me a chance to imagine what she might have been doing during a scene that originally focused on and followed Alis. I was so used to writing her as “Pryce” that I actually had to go back and change her name from to Bron for this piece. I’d forgotten that this was from her POV so she would refer to herself by her first name and not by her surname! Oops.

  5. Sue Robinson says:

    Ooh, just read this after seeing your note about it in Facebook. I really must check your blog more frequently.
    It’s great to read this scene from Pryce’s perspective. I think ‘Bron’ was the only part that made me blink as I’ve become so used to knowing her as Pryce!
    I do like first person though, when it suits a story. It certainly does with Alias, but you’ve also written it in present tense, which is less common but really conveys Alis’s emotions so vividly.
    Cracking book and wouldn’t change a thing.

    • Cari Hunter says:

      I usually highlight any updates to my blog on FB, so you’re probably not missing much! As I said in an earlier comment, I had to re-edit this whole thing because I’d initially used “Pryce” throughout it. From Pryce’s POV, she would never refer to herself by her surname!
      I loved writing in first person and it was perfect for Alias. I never even thought of the tense, y’know. It seemed so natural to write it in first-present that I never considered writing it in anything other. One of the disadvantages to first-past is knowing that the narrator came out okay on the other side – if they’re telling their story, then they survived it. There’s far more of an element of risk and jeopardy with first-present!

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