The sound of prose, its rhythm and the music of its syllables, carries meaning and effect even in silent narrative, so reading your work aloud is the most reliable test of whether a sentence works. The ear catches awkwardness, clumsy repetition, and broken rhythm that the eye skips over.
Good narrative alternates between crowding, packing the text with vivid concrete detail and sensation, and leaping, jumping over whatever can be left out so the reader's mind fills the gap. Knowing what to pack in and what to skip over is the central rhythm of storytelling.
Person and point of view (first, limited third, involved author, detached author, observer) are distinct technical options, each controlling how much the narrator knows and how close the reader sits to a character's mind. Unintended shifts between them, rather than the choice itself, are what disorient readers, so the writer should pick a mode and hold it consciously.