The Writer’s Playground Series – The Unreliable Narrator

The Unreliable Narrator

• Objective: To practice the subtle art of misleading the reader through a first-person narrator.
• How to Play: The facilitator tells the group the “objective truth” of a simple event (e.g., “You, the narrator, broke a priceless vase out of jealousy”). The group then collaboratively tells the story from the narrator’s point of view, with the collective goal of skillfully lying through omission, misdirection, and emotional manipulation to make the reader believe someone else is guilty.
• Best for: Mastering narrative voice, subtext, and point of view.

Here is an example round of The Unreliable Narrator in action.

Objective Truth (Known to all players): The narrator, Alex, accidentally broke a valuable vase.

Group’s Goal: Collaboratively write a first-person account from Alex’s perspective that manipulates the reader into believing someone else (or something else) is to blame.

Players: Facilitator, Writer 1, Writer 2, Writer 3.

(Facilitator): “Alright everyone, remember the goal. We are Alex. We broke the vase by accident, but our story will prove our innocence. Let’s begin building the narrative. I’ll start.”

(Facilitator, as Alex): I never liked visiting Mr. Harrison’s study. He called it ‘eclectic,’ but the room was a chaotic mess of teetering books and precariously placed artifacts. He had asked me in to discuss my quarterly report, but his attention, as usual, was everywhere at once.

(Writer 1, as Alex): My eyes kept being drawn to that awful blue vase he kept on a ridiculously tiny pedestal right next to the main walkway. It was a monstrosity, heavy and ornate, and I remember thinking that it was only a matter of time before someone, probably Mr. Harrison himself, sent it flying.

(Writer 2, as Alex): He was in the middle of a sentence, something about synergy, and he was waving his hands around with that wild enthusiasm of his. He gestured dramatically toward the window, his sleeve catching a stack of papers and sending them fluttering to the floor.

(Writer 3, as Alex): He bent down to grab them, grumbling under his breath. I shifted my weight, trying to stay out of his way. The next thing I knew, there was this terrible, echoing crash from behind me. A sound of a thousand pieces of glass hitting a hardwood floor.

(Facilitator, as Alex): I must have jumped a foot in the air. I spun around, my heart hammering in my chest, to see the remains of that hideous vase scattered like blue shrapnel across the rug. For a moment, there was just this ringing silence.

(Writer 1, as Alex): Mr. Harrison’s head whipped around, his face pale with shock. His eyes, wide and furious, immediately landed right on me. He didn’t look at the pedestal, or the papers still on the floor, or the path he had just stumbled through. Just me.

(Writer 2, as Alex): “What have you done?” he whispered, but it wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. He didn’t even check to see how it might have happened. He just looked for someone to blame.

(Writer 3, as Alex): And standing there, in the middle of his chaotic, disaster-prone study, I suppose I was the easiest target, wasn’t I?