8 Major Types of Narrators: Examples and When to Use Them

The narrator of a story is the voice that tells it. Unlike the author, who exists outside the world of the text, the narrator shapes the reader’s experience, guiding tone, style, and what is revealed or concealed. Some narrators may seem trustworthy and objective; others may mislead the reader, either intentionally or due to their own limited knowledge.

In this article, we’ll explore key types of narrators — from omniscient to unreliable — and help you choose one that best suits your story.

Here's a sneak-peak of what we'll cover:

Let’s start by considering where your narrator stands in relation to your story.

☝️Note that this article does not cover first, second, or third person POV. If you’d like a refresher on those, check out this guide to POV. 

Heterodiegetic narrators

A heterodiegetic narrator is the technical term for a narrator who tells the story from outside the fictional world they describe — think hetero as in “other” or “different.” They do not participate in the events but relay the narrative to the reader, offering a bird’s-eye view of the story. This perspective can either focus on a single character or reveal the inner lives of multiple characters, providing insight into their thoughts, emotions, and actions.

A classic example is the narrator in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, who tells the story from outside Middle-earth. Even as they zoom into characters’ thoughts and describe battles or landscapes in rich detail, they never actually participate in or affect the narrative arc. Similarly, the narrator in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice shapes our impressions of Elizabeth and Darcy but does not interfere with any of the action.

Why use a heterodiegetic narrator?

Heterodiegetic narrators are ideal for epic, historical, or complex stories where multiple perspectives are necessary, or where you want the reader to be able to focus on the plot without being concerned with the narrator’s potential bias. They can also create dramatic irony, showing readers more than the characters know. This style works well for stories where objectivity and broad perspective are key, but it still allows for a distinctive narrative voice.

In The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, for example, the heterodiegetic narrator gives the story a dreamy, almost fable-like tone that keeps the reader intrigued:

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.

Homodiegetic narrators

In contrast, a homodiegetic narrator is a character within the story who experiences and affects the events  — think homo as in “same.” These narrators offer an intimate look into the story world through their perspective, often recalling past events or discovering new ones alongside the reader. They may or may not be reliable as their personal involvement makes the narration more subjective.

A classic example of a homodiegetic narrator is Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby, who tells the story as someone who’s witnessed the enigmatic Jay Gatsby’s rise and fall up close. Another example is Scout Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird, who narrates her childhood experiences with an adult’s reflective voice. 

For a more modern example, take Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games. The reader experiences everything through her eyes, and as she gains a broader understanding of her nation, Panem (especially its dazzling yet sinister capital), so does the reader.

Why use a homodiegetic narrator?

Homodiegetic narrators can create a sense of intimacy and immediacy. Since they have a will and mind of their own, they can also add some fun complexity to the story, introducing unreliability and biases (more on this later). This is especially effective in character-driven stories where the emotional depth and personal growth of the narrator are central.

🌿 If you want to get even more into the weeds of diegetic narrators, check out this blog post for a break down some of the more intricate terms of narration, like “intradiagetic” and “extradiegetic.”

Other types of narrators tend to fall either into the hetero- or homodiegetic category, so let’s take a look at some major types that you will encounter all throughout literature.

Omniscient narrators

An omniscient narrator knows everything — from the actions of all the characters to their innermost thoughts, and what goes on in the far reaches of the realm. Heterodiegetic narrators are usually omniscient, and omniscient narrators are usually (but not always) heterodiegetic, existing outside the narrative and providing an “all-seeing” perspective on events.

Contradictory as it might seem, some omniscient narrators are known as limited omniscient narrators — or selective omniscient narrators. This restricts the narrator’s knowledge to just a few key characters, whereas traditional omniscience provides a broader view of the story world.

The narrator in George Eliot’s Middlemarch is an example of a traditional omniscient narrator who knows the innermost thoughts and motivations of every character, even those far removed from the main narrative. Here, the narrator captures a main character’s emotional state:

Dorothea’s heart was full of a strange, tremulous sweetness, as if the best thing in life were about to happen to her, and yet she had no clue what that best thing was.

Later on, the narrator also gives the reader access to Mr. Casaubon’s thoughts — the man who marries Dorothea because he needs an assistant for his research — revealing his internal conflict and motivations:

Mr. Casaubon’s mind was like a haunted house, with nothing but ghosts of ideas that he had once cherished; and now he felt as if his life had been a succession of futile inquiries.

Meanwhile, in A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin, the narrative is technically omniscient (since it reveals what happens in different parts of the world and what multiple characters are thinking), but it’s limited in the sense that each chapter focuses on a particular character’s POV. We get their perspective, but only theirs, even though the narrator could technically jump to anyone or anywhere. 

Realistically speaking, most omniscient narrators end up being limited because while the narrator may know what everyone is thinking, not all of it will be relevant to the story. So, authors tend to focus on a few characters to avoid so-called “head-hopping.” 

Why use omniscient narrators?

This style is ideal for stories with multiple characters, settings, or time periods. The omniscient narrator can provide essential context and create dramatic irony, revealing information to the reader that’s unknown to the characters, or allowing for a neutral portrayal of their motivations. This is particularly helpful in stories with complex moral or thematic elements, where authors can use the omniscient narrator style to portray a theme or topic from multiple perspectives.

Limited narrators

A limited narrator tells the story through a single character’s eyes, filtering it through their thoughts, experiences, and knowledge. The narrator can be either first-person or third-person; in first-person, the limitation is clear: the narrator can only speak to their own experiences. In third-person, the narrator is more flexible but still bound to one character’s perspective, filtering all events through their eyes.

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro, for instance, is narrated by Klara, an “Artificial Friend” who has been purchased to accompany a young girl, Josie. Klara only knows the world based on her own experiences and configurations. She can reflect and guess what other people are thinking and feeling, but ultimately never knows for sure. Like when Klara tries to understand how Josie is feeling about the disappearance of her friend, Rick: 

As the days continued and there was still no visit from Rick, Josie grew more quiet, and her signals became keep away ones.

Why use limited narrators?

This style creates a close bond between the character and the reader. It’s particularly useful when you want to build tension around what the character does or doesn’t know and when their internal biases shape the narrative. The reader won’t know what’s objectively true, what other people are thinking or doing, or what is going to happen next, which makes for a compelling reading experience.

Unreliable narrators

An unreliable narrator is a storyteller whose credibility has been compromised. This can happen for various reasons: they might be deliberately deceptive, mentally unstable, or simply unaware of key facts. This narration style is closely tied together with limited narrators and can make readers question the validity of the narrator’s account as they have to actively interpret the gaps, contradictions, and omissions, piecing together the real story from what is being presented.

In Edgar Allen Poe’s "The Tell-Tale Heart," the narrator insists on their sanity while simultaneously recounting the murder they’ve committed in a delirious, guilt-ridden monologue. Readers immediately sense the narrator’s madness, even though they are vehemently denying it, and this contradiction creates tension in the story, exploring both guilt and paranoia.

Likewise, in Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, both Nick and Amy Dunne serve as unreliable narrators, each presenting a version of their troubled marriage that is colored by their personal biases, lies, and manipulations. This creates an unpredictable narrative, where readers are constantly second-guessing what is real and what is fabrication — and whose side to take.

Why use unreliable narrators? 

One of the biggest advantages of an unreliable narrator is the sense of suspense and surprise it can generate. Since readers can't trust the narrator's version of events, they become invested in uncovering the truth. This style is particularly great for genres like thriller or horror.

On the flip side, if the deception is too obvious, or if there are too few hints about the narrator’s unreliability, the twist may fall flat. Similarly, the narrator’s unreliability has to feel justified; otherwise, it can feel like a gimmick rather than an organic part of the story.

Objective narrators

An objective narrator presents the events of the story without delving into any specific character's thoughts or emotions. This type of narration focuses purely on observable actions and dialogue and is often referred to as a "camera-eye" perspective.

In "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson, for instance, the narrator describes the characters' actions, their dialogue, and their responses to a ritualistic lottery without delving into their inner thoughts. This builds suspense as the reader is left to wonder about the true nature of the lottery and the people involved. The shocking twist at the end is all the more jarring because the objective narration has kept us distant from the characters’ emotions and motives throughout. 

Similarly, Ernest Hemingway uses an objective narrator in his short story, "Hills Like White Elephants." The story takes place in a bar in Spain, where a man and a woman discuss whether or not to have an abortion. The narrator gives no insight into their inner thoughts, only describing their actions and dialogue. The absence of emotional commentary forces the reader to interpret the subtext of their conversation and draw conclusions about their relationship and the decisions they face.

Why use objective narrators?

The objective narrator offers a detached, neutral view of events and doesn’t insert any opinions, allowing readers to form their own judgments based on what they can observe on the page. This can be particularly useful when you want to address themes of alienation or deal with morally ambiguous topics without taking a direct stance. 

But while this perspective can leave room for interpretation, without the insight into the characters’ minds, the narration may lack emotional depth, requiring you to provide enough subtext through your characters’ actions and dialogue to effectively convey meaning.

Stream-of-consciousness narrators

A stream-of-consciousness narrator captures the continuous flow of thoughts, memories, and impressions that pass through a character’s mind, often without following the classic structure of a novel or a particular plot. Instead, the narration jumps from one thought to another, making it highly immersive and offering unfiltered access to the character’s internal world.

Virginia Woolf is known for her stream-of-consciousness narration style. Mrs. Dalloway, for instance, is told by a 3rd person omniscient narrator who has deep insight into the minds of all the main characters, and primarily that of Clarissa Dalloway as she prepares to host a party.

Did it matter then, she asked herself, walking towards Bond Street, did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely? All this must go on without her; did she resent it; or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely?

The narration flows through time, memory, and fragmented impressions, allowing readers to feel immersed in Clarissa’s world as she goes about her day.

Similarly, Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders blends multiple characters’ fragmented thoughts and voices into a sort of chorus. 

Only then (nearly out the door, so to speak) did I realize how unspeakably beautiful all of this was, how precisely engineered for our pleasure, and saw that I was on the brink of squandering a wondrous gift, the gift of being allowed, every day, to wander this vast sensual paradise, this grand marketplace lovingly stocked with every sublime thing.

Why use stream-of-consciousness narrators?

One of the main advantages of stream-of-consciousness narration is being able to mimic how our minds truly work. It is ideal for exploring complex emotions or psychological states, offering direct access to a character’s unfiltered subconscious. It’s most effective when focusing on internal conflict or character development, and can be particularly potent when dealing with characters who are in a state of loss, confusion, or emotional turmoil, as it creates a sense of disorientation. However, this can be challenging for readers to follow due to its fragmented nature.

Epistolary narrators

The term "epistolary" comes from the Latin word for letter, epistola. With that in mind, an epistolary narrator is a type of narrator that tells the story entirely or partially through the written correspondence between characters — from letters and diary entries to emails and text messages. This format gives readers an unmediated view of a character’s thoughts, emotions, and voice.

Dracula by Bram Stoker is a classic example of an epistolary novel, told through a series of letters, diary entries, newspaper clippings, and even telegrams. The story is revealed through the personal accounts of various characters, allowing the reader to experience events from multiple perspectives. In a diary entry, for instance, Mina Harker writes about her feelings for her fiancé, Jonathan Harker:

I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.

Likewise, Stephen Chbosky’s coming-of-age novel The Perks of Being a Wallflower consists of letters written by the protagonist, Charlie, to an unnamed friend. 

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.

Through Charlie’s letters, the reader gains insight into his high school experiences and his struggles with mental health.

Why use epistolary narrators?

This format allows readers to experience the story through a single or multiple characters’ personal reflections. It creates intimacy and gives the story a candid and unfiltered tone, as the reader gains access to their private notes. It can also allow for a sense of discovery, as many details that would normally be covered by exposition will naturally be left out of the written correspondence. However, it can slow the plot down due to the nature of correspondence, making it better suited for character-driven stories where personal discovery is central.

Choosing the right narrator for your story is crucial in shaping the reader’s experience and ensuring that tone, theme, and character portrayal align with your goals. 

Different types of narrators offer various advantages and challenges, so when selecting a narrator, consider the level of intimacy you want between the reader and the character, the amount of information you want the reader to have access to, and the reliability of the voice guiding the story. 

For example, a stream-of-consciousness narrator might work well in less plot-driven narratives where you delve into a character’s chaotic thoughts; an epistolary narrator could suit a romantic or historical novel, creating a sense of intimacy through letters or diaries; and an unreliable narrator might work best for a thriller or horror novel where you want to keep your readers on their toes.

Of course, these are just guidelines and rules are meant to be broken, so the best way to find out which type of narrator works best for your particular story is to experiment until it feels right. Happy writing!