new chapters

do you ever do that thing when you’re reading a book when you flip ahead looking for the end of the chapter you’re in and the start of the next? maybe you’re at a particularly slow part of the chapter or on a time crunch looking for the next logical stopping place, and you pause to just peak ahead and see how much longer it drags on. or perhaps that’s just the OCD, read-every-word compulsion cocktail I have going for me.

there’s often a point for me when i find myself “over” the current chapter, imagining i grasped this line of thinking, or topic-at-hand, and i zone out and blur through the paragraphs until i reach that magic threshold where i can “power through” to the end of the chapter, at which point i retire the book to the end table for now or enjoy the freshness of a new chapter.

the spark of a new chapter can be so appealing to me. the blank slate. the new season. when one day turns into day one. the chapter title and opening lines provide clues to invite my curiosity with enough unknown to guarantee adventure. if there are ends to this transition spectrum, i would typically find myself on the side ready for the next, turning the page - for better or worse.

but what happens when you feel a new chapter coming on and you flip to discover there are more pages left in the current one than you thought? or working through these last bits have slowed you down to an unexpected pace (of the crawling type)? the cloud thickens as i imagine that i would have written a different version of this section, mentally moving to the next, and filling in my own fanciful gaps. meanwhile, my eyes gloss over the page and perhaps miss key developments in the chapter at hand. after all, the words did make the editor’s cut and were deemed worthy of leaving in the story - i guess they serve some sort of purpose in the grand narrative.

not to leave the editor off the hook...

there are surely times when a section or chapter of a story drags on relentlessly. swirling, marinating, and percolating in the same words and same story. then the question becomes, is this still working? are we learning anything new here? is there anything left to glean? or is it time to take the leap, close the chapter, and open the next?
what’s the next invitation?
where are you waiting for permission? turn the page.

but alas, until we reach one of those junctures in the story, sometimes the call is for patience.
so what to do in the pages at hand...

i’d imagine it would be wise to keenly look at the pieces that make this chapter what it is. looking for themes and through lines. tracing plot developments. soaking in some of the pieces that might not carry to the next. and if i lean in and stay in the story, before i know it, it’s carried, compelled, and summoned me to the next chapter.

the invitation in every page is proximity to the author’s voice.
proximity to the themes and through lines.
then you’ll be able to trust the story.