This post continues a guest article published at Writers In The Storm. If you haven’t read Part One yet, pause here and go read it first—then come back. These examples will make much more sense once you understand the framework behind them.
In Part One, we talked about subtext as what’s left when you remove narrative explanation—the meaning readers infer. Below, we’ll look at practical examples that SHOW how subtext emerges through perception, bias, and prioritization in deep POV.
What Often Goes Wrong When Writers “Remove the Telling”
Subtext should naturally rise when author summary is stripped away—but often, when writers cut explanation and summary, without knowing what exactly to replace it with they end up with a quasi objective third pov stripped of emotion.
In the examples below, notice how meaning is rebuilt—not through labeling emotions—but through what the character notices, fixates on, exaggerates, or misinterprets.
Example 1: Subtext Through Emotional Compression
This first example demonstrates how shallow POV labels emotion, slightly deeper POV reduces telling but still summarizes, and deep POV allows memory, physical response, and assumption to present raw information to the reader for them to label and interpret. Deep POV and subtext are inviting the reader to lean in and engage to understand the story.
Shallow POV: Sarah stopped on the sidewalk as the sweet scent of lilac hit her. It smelled heavenly, just like the bush outside the house they used to share. The memory made her nostalgic and a little sad. She felt nervous about seeing Mark again, afraid he might still have feelings for her, or worse—that he had none at all. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself to stay calm and pushed open the door.
Note the red flag words for telling: made, sad, felt, nervous, afraid, reminded
Slightly Deeper: Lilacs. The smell punched her in the chest. Their old place—those purple explosions every May. Sarah’s stomach twisted with a mix of nostalgia and dread. She was terrified Mark still loved her. Or that he didn’t. She forced a neutral smile and walked inside.
Here, emotions are still named rather than experienced: nostalgia, dread, terrified, loved. We’ve shortened the distance, but the author is still doing the emotional lifting.
Deep POV With Subtext : The scent of lilac slammed into her—thick, cloying, too sweet. Sarah’s step faltered. That first spring. His fingers in her hair while the blooms dropped purple snow on both of them.
Mark waved to her from the corner table. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her purse until the leather creaked. He’d planned this. Picked this place on purpose, like nothing had ever burned down between them.
Notice how the emotional content is no longer explicit. Instead, we get sensory intrusion, backstory is dripped in, physical tension, and biased interpretation. Readers connect the emotional dots themselves—which is where engagement happens.
Example 2: When “Almost Deep POV” Still Includes Author Voice
This example highlights a common pitfall: writing that sounds intimate but still summarizes information the character wouldn’t consciously think.
Shallow/Telling POV : John felt a surge of anger when he saw the mug in the sink. His daughter had promised to do the dishes, and this proved she was irresponsible and didn’t respect him. He was tired of her laziness.
Notice the red flag words for telling: felt, anger, saw, tired
Almost Deep POV
The mug sat there, mocking him. One mug. She’d looked him in the eye and lied. John’s blood pressure spiked. Lazy, entitled brat. He slammed the cupboard door hard enough to rattle the plates.
This might feel like deep POV, but notice “John’s blood pressure spiked” is author summary. John isn’t alone in his head thinking in medical metrics. We’re told how his body reacts instead of being placed inside the reaction itself.
Deep POV with Subtext
A single mug stained with hot chocolate dregs sat in the sink. His keys hit the counter with a crack. She’d leaned right there, three hours ago, ponytail swinging, “Dishes are done, Dad.”
She couldn’t be bothered to finish the job. The mug was like a silent middle finger. She’d never amount to anything.
Here, the anger is obvious—but what fuels it is more interesting. Is this about disappointment? Fear for his daughter’s future? Loss of control?
That why adds color and specificity to the emotional response. Asking beta readers what emotion they believe is driving a reaction is a powerful way to test whether your subtext is landing the way you intend it to.
Example 3: Subtext Through Bias and Misinterpretation
Deep POV wants the character’s filter to shape how they perceive and interpret information. This colours everything they see, hear, say, and do.
Shallow / Telling POV
Tom smiled and said I looked great. I was flattered because I’d spent a long time choosing the dress. Was he being nice, or was I just tonight’s entertainment?
The reader learns what happened, but not how it feels. There’s a lot of reporting, and summarizing. Deep POV wants to become the character in the scene.
Improved – but still not Deep POV
Tom’s gaze flicked over my dress, that same slick smile he uses on clients. Compliments from men like him always come with a price tag. I forced a polite laugh while scanning the room for the nearest exit.
This example is lacking an emotional reaction. How does it FEEL to have a coworker look you up and down like that? Would the character genuinely need to explain “compliments from men like him…” to herself? I’m going to have someone shoot up a hand – yes! That’s exactly how my character thinks. Alright, it’s possible — but be objective about what is your voice and what is your character’s voice.
Deep POV with Subtext
Tom glanced at me as he walked by and did a double take. “You look great tonight. Love that dress.”
The room noise seemed to dim. I tugged the neckline a fraction higher, heat crawling up my throat. “Thank you.” I held my glass up to hide my cleavage. Jerk. I wasn’t charmed as easily as his vapid assistants. “I wasn’t sure it was appropriate…”
His brows shot up and he grinned, his gaze lingering on the dress a moment too long before lifting to my face. “No, no, it’s perfect.”
What filter is shaping her interpretation? Readers should be able to infer this without being told.
Deep POV with Subtext (through a trauma lens)
Tom stood in front of me, his bulk blocking the light from the chandelier. “Hey, you look amazing. That color is killer on you.”
His cedar cologne scraped the back of my throat, reaching for my words. “Thanks.” My voice squeaked like a cornered mouse. I rounded my shoulders and lowered my gaze for a moment. The exit sign on my left a lighthouse beacon in my peripheral vision. I turned away before I could hear a reply.
The juxtaposition between what’s observable and how the character feels should tip off readers that there’s more to her reaction than the surface meaning of his comment. The verb choice and sensory information should hint that she feels threatened, unsafe, vulnerable. The contradiction between what’s said and how it’s experienced shows readers there’s a deeper story operating beneath the surface.
Example 4: Subtext Through Fixation and Priority
When a character fixates, that fixation becomes a lens. It tells readers what matters most—and what fear or desire controls the scene.
Shallower POV: Mara waited by the kitchen island and checked her phone again. Ben still hadn’t answered her text. It had been an hour already. Something was wrong. She tried not to think about how he might be having an affair on her. Keys slid into the lock at the front door. She straightened and felt a giant weight drop off her shoulders. He was home.
There are a couple of red flag words here that there’s author intrusion and telling: tried, think, felt. This is summarizing her thoughts instead of sharing the direct thoughts, as scattered or truncated as they may be. There’s no emotional reaction to the worry. She thinks about being worried, but doesn’t feel worried.
Deep POV: The kitchen clock chimed every second that he didn’t reply. She rolled her shoulders, but the muscles stayed tight. No new notifications, but she checked her phone again anyway. Nothing. The clawing, cloying, lump in her gut grew another size larger.
His new secretary was far too attractive. Mara’s stomach growled with hunger, but she smoothed down the hem of the new blouse. He’d notice she had lost a whole dress size with this new outfit. Keys slid into the lock of the front door. Her breath caught, sharp. She smoothed her hair and glanced down at herself. She undid another button on her blouse.
Her attention narrows. Her thoughts loop. Her body reacts. You don’t need to tell readers she’s anxious. A character’s priorities are one of the most reliable tools for building subtext. What they obsess over often reveals more than their stated fears.
Example 5: Subtext Through Competing Desire and Self-Protection
This final example shows how emotional complexity doesn’t come from naming conflict—it comes from juxtaposing competing desires and fears: hope vs guilt, fear vs connection, pride vs vulnerability.
Shallower POV: Evan stood outside the rehearsal room feeling nervous and conflicted. He was afraid of going in because he didn’t want to hear the director’s criticism again, but he also felt hopeful he might finally get the solo. He hesitated, torn between fear and excitement, trying to decide what to do.
This example has the author voice stating that Evan is nervous and conflicted. There’s nothing for the reader to lean into. Then the author voice summarizes WHY Evan feels that way. There’s an attempt at emotional complexity here, but there’s no tension at all. No surprise.
Deep POV: The rehearsal room door muffled the chaos in the rehearsal room. Evan shifted his backpack on his shoulder, and scanned the music again. Had to nail that D5 note. He straightened his spine and reached for the door. “Fake it til you make it.”
He smiled and waved at the others there, some gave a curt nod in return, others ignored him. The Director would see he was the easy one to work with, competent but not an ass. His stomach knotted, a slow twist. Another breath. He had this. The door opened and Shane walked in. Evan froze, his fingers crumpled his music sheets. Shane nodded to a few people, exchanged a fist bump. Evan twisted away and gave Shane his back. Focus.
Here, optimism and fear collide indirectly. The character outwardly projects confidence and competence, but internally braces for failure. Readers experience the tension because they’re in the conflict with him beat by beat.
Final Takeaway: Subtext Lives in the Gaps
Subtext emerges when you trust readers to interpret—and when you trust your character’s perceptions to carry meaning without explanation.
Pay attention to:
- What the character notices first
- What they fixate on
- The assumptions they make
- The conclusions they leap to
- What they don’t think about at all (but an observant or present-minded person would)
That’s where subtext carries the narrative for you, removing the need for summary or explanation. Of course, I will add the ever-present caveat that very few authors are writing entirely in deep POV. Many strive for somewhere between 75%-90% deep POV, and allow room for telling and author intrusion where it serves the story to maintain pacing and tension. The goal is to be intentional about using the author voice, know how to recognize it, so it’s a tool in your toolbox, not a default framework.
How Do You Know If Subtext Is Working?
I get asked this quite a lot. The best way to know if you’ve captured an emotion for the character sufficiently, effectively, is through beta readers and critique partners. Avoid asking leading questions, and instead ask questions that draw out their perception.
Ask beta readers what emotion they believe is driving the scene—and why they believe that. The difference between what you intended and what they experienced will tell you exactly where your deep POV can or needs to go deeper.
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