Did you ever find yourself reading a book, a good book, but find that something is bothering you about it? You can’t quite put your finger on it, so you sigh, throw it down for a while then pick it up later. The story is compelling, the descriptions atmospheric, the characters well-drawn. So what’s the problem?

This has happened to me a number of times and I finally decided it was time to solve the mystery. Ha! After all, as a writer, I could be doing exactly the same “wrong” thing. My readers could be throwing down my book . . . and not picking it up again.

So I decided to become a detective, a writing sleuth. My plan: the next time I came across this dilemma, I would stop and carefully dissect the pages and analyze the situation. Well, as it turns out, this happened on my very next book. I started reading a British WhoDunnit, one with good reviews, which means it’s good, right? Since I paid $12.99 for the e-version, I knew it was not a self-published book.  Ahh, a real book. It must be good.

I will not name the book, because I don’t think that’s fair to the writer. In fact, it is pretty good so far. (I’m only a quarter of the way through at this writing.) The book is dark, historic, lots of murders, a country manor, an inspector with baggage. Hmm. Could be any book. But seriously, it’s nicely written and I keep turning the page.

Enter the problem.  Point of View. I am in the head of the inspector as he visits one of the key characters, an attractive woman, in the story. I see the room through his eyes, hear the world with his ears, and think his thoughts about the situation as he speaks to her.

Suddenly, I am looking at the inspector through the woman’s eyes. No space break, no page break, just boom. In one sentence he notices her good looks, etc. etc.  In the next, she is unnerved by the dark look on his face. She is thinking about what he’s like, etc. etc.  Then back to the inspector.

Aha. Caught you! Because this writer is skillful, it wasn’t easy to discern exactly what the problem was. But these subtle POV shifts are disconcerting and give the book an uncomfortable edge. Frankly, they just annoy me, now that I recognize them for what they are.

I have no doubt that many authors are guilty of this POV faux pas. And some may be able to get away with it. I say may because I doubt it. Some of the more acclaimed literary authors like Pat Conroy, whose southern saga, South of Broad, I just finished, or Erik Larson’s The Devil in the White City, would never shift POVs in this choppy manner. I haven’t read Stephen King or John Grisham in a while, but I’m betting they don’t shift this way either. It’s actually amateurish and indicative of inexperienced writers.

Why do authors do it? It’s tempting to try to get a lot of information to the readers quickly and to establish who your characters are early. If you go back and forth between characters and get inside each one’s head, the reader will learn a lot right away. The problem is the reader may very well quit reading because they’re confused and never learn anything more. You’re also doing an injustice to your characters by giving them only a few lines of introspection or a brief emotional outburst, rather than a whole scene to themselves. Think about your characters. What’s the best way to get to know them? Flip-flopping inner thoughts with another character? Or devoting a whole scene, even a short one, to them? Tight, snappy dialogue can also give truer insight into a character than myriad POV shifts.

I’m tuned in to these pesky POV shifts now, so I spot them easily. When you start reading your next book, keep this concept in the back of your mind. If something is bugging you and you can’t figure out what on earth it is, see if POV shifts aren’t the reason.

And, more important, you might want to keep it in mind when you start writing your next book.

Ideas welcome.