Perhaps Garp got under my skin in a way of which I was unaware. In the back of my edition, Irving wrote about his method for piecing the story together. In one portion, he talks about how he tried leading with two chapters that are now published in the last quarter of the book. Such an idea was astonishing to me; sequentially, the chapters were in the perfect place and the story line was flawless. It seemed bizarre to think that the manuscript could have ever existed in an uncertain state, practically in pieces.
Now, outside of my browser window, I’m staring into two documents: “New Chapter Six” and “Chapter Six as One.” I’m worried that the single most potent, revealing, and well-written portion of my book (you guessed it, chapter six) is buried too far into the manuscript, and I don’t want a reader to have to dig for it. So, I’m doing the Irving - I’m experimenting with laying my cards flat on the table, and putting it as the lead chapter. With the change, I’m hoping to create immediate compassion and interest, and show my lead character’s human side right away - something that you have to convince yourself to believe before chapter six, and something that I have to trust my readers’ will power through fifty pages without.
I’m worried about the change because I’ve so delicately crafted the progression of my story. I love the hook of my current first chapter, how it separates itself from the initial prose instantly, and the way it works in the story, frames who he is. I love the suspense it creates with the little hints it drops, but now I’m concerned that a reader (and publisher) will shoo away suspense for substance.
Luckily changes aren’t permanent, but unfortunately, my opinions don’t seem to be, either. While I can press undo, I can’t decide what the right solution is, and I’m so in it that I’m not quite sure how to get out. Again, I need to call on immense outside help that isn’t really available to me - and that I certainly don’t know how to track down if it actually does exist.
When is following my own instinct totally dangerous? When do I know if I’m overthinking something? When do I know when I haven’t thought things through enough?
Hi Crisis, my name is Meredith and (albeit humbly) I’ve convinced myself that I’m a writer.
M
