Narrative tense: present or past
Present or past is one of a novel's first technical choices, and one of those you feel most even when the reader doesn't notice it. It isn't a matter of abstract taste: the two tenses create different relationships with the story and with whoever tells it, and each carries precise advantages and constraints.
What actually changes between present and past
The past ("she walked to the door") places the story in a time that has already happened: there's a narrator reporting, with a margin of distance and the possibility of already knowing how things go. The present ("she walks to the door") puts the reader in the moment the action happens, alongside the character, with no one yet knowing how it ends.
All the other differences follow from this one: emotional distance, the freedom to foreshadow or comment, the sense of risk.
The past: the invisible choice
The past has been fiction's default for centuries, and it's so common that the reader doesn't register it as a choice. It works with any genre, any length, any voice. It gives the narrator freedom to move in time — foreshadow, sum up years in a sentence, go back — without friction.
If you don't have a precise reason for the present, the past is almost always the right choice: it takes nothing away and asks nothing in return.
The present: immediacy and its costs
The present gives a sense of immediacy and uncertainty: the narrator doesn't know what will happen, so the reader doesn't feel safe either. It's effective in thrillers, in very close first-person stories, in certain coming-of-age novels where being inside the experience minute by minute matters.
The costs: over a whole novel the present can become monotonous and tiring, because it's less natural to read for long stretches. And it makes time jumps, summaries, the alternation between scene and ellipsis harder — all things the past does without thinking.
First person in the present is a case apart
The first-person + present combination has become very common in some genres (young adult above all) to the point of almost sounding like a convention. It has a real strength — maximum adherence to the character — but also a risk: if the voice isn't characterised enough, all these stories start to resemble one another. If you take this route, work the voice so it's recognisable, not just "present".
Changing tense within the book: when it works
Alternating the two tenses is possible, but it has to be a legible design: for example the chapters in the story's present in the present tense, the flashback chapters in the past. The reader learns the rule in a couple of chapters and then uses it as a signal.
What doesn't work is involuntary slippage: a chapter in the past with three paragraphs that slide into the present because you were writing "hot" at that moment. It's the most frequent tense error in first manuscripts, and it has to be hunted for on purpose in revision because you don't notice it while writing.
Trying a chapter in both tenses
If you're undecided, the most reliable way to choose is to rewrite a key chapter — better one with action and one with introspection — in both tenses and read them a day apart. In NovLore version history freezes the copy before the rewrite, so you can convert a chapter to the present, compare it with the past version and go back without having lost anything.
Frequently asked questions
Is the present considered less "serious" than the past?
It's a widespread but unfounded prejudice: there are important literary novels in the present. It is true, though, that some readers and some publishers associate it with specific genres, and that it tires more over very long texts. Choosing it is fine, but with awareness.
Can I narrate in the past and put the character's thoughts in the present?
Yes, and it's common: direct thoughts, especially in italics or without markers, often sit in the present even in past-tense narration. It's a convention the reader accepts without trouble, as long as it's consistent.
How do I find involuntary tense slips?
Do a revision pass dedicated only to that: read hunting for the verbs, not the meaning. The slips concentrate at the points of greatest agitation — action scenes, arguments — where writing pulls instinctively towards the present.