I am working on a scene (one of many) and I am having trouble with voice (in all of them). I find first person handy in some situations and third in others. Below are two excerpts from the same scene the first is in first person, the second is in third person.
What I really want to know is which better brings the character and story to life.
I do have much longer extracts if that will help, I didn't want to overkill it to start with though.
The boredom is by far the worst part of the job. For example right now, right at this moment I am laying on my back in the dirt, my face is four inches from the floor of the porch above me and every time someone walks overhead dust drifts into my face. At this moment I want nothing more than to be able to scratch my nose. I really thought that being a guild thief would be more…glamorous. But here I am my first day as a professional “wealth re-distributor” lying in the dirt, sweating and clenching my whole face in an effort not to sneeze. I used to wander the market liberating poorly secured coin purses day-dreaming about what real thieving would be like. I always imagined dressing all in black, scaling walls with ropes and sneaking through sleeping houses to help myself to giant gems and sparkling life-size golden statues. But no, I am dirty and smelly and waiting for a fat old man to leave his office so that I can take…are you ready for this? Some paper, well, ok a specific piece of paper.
Running can be fun, and they say it's good for you, but as Nirin tore through the streets and alleyways of Akrovasi dodging walkers, carts of goods and vendors hawking their wares, it occurred to her that 'they' probably didn't include being chased by armed guards in their evaluation of the activity's health benefits. The wide stone streets of the merchant quarter that zigzagged away from the central market were crowded with shoppers and the litters of rich ladies riding on the shoulders of servants. The stone roads had been smoothed over the countless years of pedestrian (and sometimes thief) feet. Despite the fear that drove her forward she never felt more alive than she did at times like this. Her body knew just what to do. She sprinted toward one of the more flamboyant palanquins, a gilded seat draped in bright blue silks. Nirin had just enough time to notice the rider, a giant woman with at least three chins. She ducked between the two large tattooed men on the front of the poles and slid beneath the raised seat and popping back to her feet on the far side as she sprinted on. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the guards and servants getting tangled and the woman, her chair and chins toppling to the ground.