Ever so often, I'm reminded that truth really
can be stranger than fiction!

  Like the Santa Claus Bank Robbery on Dec. 23,  1927, in Cisco, Texas. It was one of Texas' most infamous crimes at the time,
and led to the largest manhunt ever seen in the state.

  All of which sounds like fodder for a good crime  novel: Four men steal a car in Wichita Falls, Texas … drive to Cisco … one of
the four puts on a Santa Claus suit en route … “Santa” enters the bank with the
other three men, they rob the bank.

  In the meantime, though, one bank customer and her daughter escape out another door, run into an alley and scream for help. Not  only police but a large number of Cisco citizens arrive in response – courtesy of a reward offered by the Texas Bank Association of $5,000 to anyone shooting a bank robber during a crime in the state.

  Shooting began even before the bank robbers emerged. When they came out of the bank into the alley – herding bank customers and employees in front of them – it became a fire-fight. Most of the hostages escaped. Several hostages and two of the robbers were wounded, and two lawmen were shot, and later died of their wounds. The robbers kidnapped two of the hostages and drove away, leading to a prolonged chase and eventual arrest of the robbers.

  All exciting stuff, and it would be a great book or movie!

  Then there's the bits that a writer or scriptwriter might be tempted to omit, because the whole thing starts sounding like a comedy of errors:

  The robbers neglected to check the gas tank of the car they initially stole for their heist. As they drove away from the bank with their hostages, followed by an angry mob, they realized …

They were almost out of gas.

  They drove to the edge of town, and commandeered a car driven by a 14-year-old boy. He ran, the robbers transferred their hostages, one of their wounded – by then unconscious – cohorts and the bank money to the “new” car.

  Then realized that the teenaged driver, who had run away, had taken the vehicle's keys with him!

  With a mob of angry townspeople and law officers hot on their heels, they moved their hostages back into their first car, leaving the wounded robber behind. They drove until their original vehicle ran out of gas, then abandoned it and their hostages and took off on foot.

  It was probably about this time they realized they had left the stolen bank loot behind, in the car they tried to steal from the teenager.

  The mob following them from town found the loot and the wounded robber – who died that night in a Fort Worth hospital – and temporarily gave up the chase.

  The surviving robbers stole another car and managed to evade searchers for a while, until they wrecked the third vehicle near Putnam.

  Now down to three, two of them wounded, the threesome was ambushed by a Young County sheriff at South Bend as they tried to cross the Brazos River. Another car chase followed, ending in a shootout in a field, during which all three men were reported wounded by a Texas Ranger. The trio escaped into the woods.

  Two of their pursuers were wounded by accidental discharge of their own weapons.

Not usually the way it plays out in the movies ...

At it's simplest, point of view – aka POV – for
a writer simply means … How are you going to tell your story?
  Broadly speaking, POV falls into four
  categories:
Omniscient. This is the writer-as-god approach. You, the author, are the unseen narrator who knows everything, who shares with the reader what every character is thinking and doing – and reveal information to your reader that none of your characters know about. Omniscient
is plot-driven, rather than character-driven – which, to me, demands that your plot be strong.

First Person. Your main character is the narrator – “I” am telling the tale. At its best, first person can give the reader a sense of immediacy. At its worst, first person POV leads to a story that's more “tell” than “show.” “I was afraid.” “I was happy.” However, in the hands of a skilled writer, first person can be extremely effective.

  The plus – and negative – of first person is that your POV is limited. The reader knows only what the first person narrator knows. If you suddenly want your reader to know information that's hidden from the narrator, you may have a problem.

  On the other hand, it can lead to some very effective foreshadowing. “If I'd known what was on the other side of that door, I would have run like hell in the other direction.” You also can really get into the mind of your narrator, and it's effective for either plot-driven (think all those hardboiled detective novels) or character-driven work.

Second Person. Other than the “choose your adventure” books popular a few years ago, I haven't seen many novels written in this POV. Second person is “you.” In effect, you're making the reader the protagonist of your book – or inviting him/her along as the protagonist's sidekick. Again, the perspective is limited. Your reader, as the “you” of your story, knows only what he/she can see happening, or can discover.

Third Person Limited. This is similar to First Person in that the author
disappears, and all the action unfolds through the eyes of a single character.
It also has the same advantage of bringing your reader into the mind of your
protagonist.

  My first two Portals novels, Shadow Path and Stormcaller, were written from the third-person POV of a single character, my human protagonist Kat Morales. But, like omniscient POV, third person lends itself to writing in multiple points of view as well.

  What separates third-person multiple POV from omniscient is how it's written. In third-person multiple, you devote an entire scene to one character. For example, I've written one scene from Kat's POV, then in the next scene, looked at events entirely through the eyes of her elf partner, Tevis, picking up his thoughts, his feelings, his observations.

  You also have the freedom, with this POV, to show your reader events that you want to conceal from your protagonist. Several scenes in Deathtalker, book 3 in Portals, were written from the villain's POV – information that Kat and Tevis (and their allies) were not privy to.

  What's the best point-of-view to write from? You'll find a variety of opinions both on the Internet and in any “how-to” book (or class) for writers that you care to check out. You'll find comments about what readers like (or don't like).

  Just about any “rule” you care to formulate about POV has been, or will be, broken at some time – and broken successfully. For me, the best POV is the one that helps the writer tell his or her story effectively.

  What/where is your comfort level? That's the POV you want to use.

(A little note on the photo: That's me with my beloved, now departed, Shilo. The photo was taken by a friend at a writer's conference in Casper, Wyo., a few years ago.)

  One of the Amazon discussion groups raises an interesting question: What constitutes a strong female character, and … Have you, as an author, created one?

Well, okay … That's two questions. But still …

I think – I hope – I've created a strong female character in Kat Morales, the human protagonist in my Portals series. She's a cop, equally capable of facing down gun-wielding human criminals and magic-wielding wizards.

But in my mind, that isn't the core of what makes her strong. True strength, to me, comes not from what you do but who you are – whether as a character in a book or a living, breathing human being.

Strong characters, like strong people in the real world, possess an inner sense of right and wrong, an awareness of themselves. Strong characters are capable of being weak; that's part of being human. They just don't let weakness get in the way of what they perceive as “doing the right thing.”

For me, not only as a writer but an observer of human nature, “strong” doesn't equate with fearlessness. If you don't know fear, if your stomach doesn't churn at the thought of, say, facing down a fire-breathing dragon, then charging into a cave to kill the beast isn't an act of strength or courage.

It may well be the most stupid idea you've ever come up with …

Strength, and courage, is being scared all the way down to your toenails – where your stomach has crawled into hiding – and still seeking a way to slay the beast because … well … somebody has to, and the responsibility has fallen onto your shoulders.

Strength isn't always about saving the day with a gun or sword, either. Strength is the single mom on a limited income, working to support her children while helping them grow into responsible – and, yes, strong – adults themselves.

Strength is the ordinary person we see on TV after he (or she) has rushed in to pull someone away from a fiery car crash – not because he's fearless, but because someone needed help and he (or she) was there.

All of which is to say that strength in a character, male or female, is more than physical. Sure, you can create a kick-ass female protagonist who can chew nails, and fears nothing. But without weaknesses to play her strength against, without that touch of what makes us all human, she's a cardboard cutout – and she probably won't engage your readers.

Okay, that's my opinion. What about yours? What kind of protagonist – male or female – do you write? Or enjoy reading about? I'd love for you to share your thoughts.