Chapter 11: Penultimate Chapter Meditation

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A Meta Method for When the End Draws Near (7 minutes)

Over the course of 2020, Brad Phillips and Gideon Jacobs are writing a 12-chapter "serial novella" for Autre. It will be written Exquisite Corpse style — they will alternate who writes each month's chapter, and won’t have access to the previous chapter until it has been published. Brad and Gideon have not discussed plot, structure, format, themes, characters, etc, and promise not to do so even once the project is underway. The idea is to react to each other's work, and hope the final Frankensteinian product is something that deserves to exist. If the authors like what they've made when it's done, the editors might publish it as a "zine." Installments will go up on the 15th of every month. Click here to read Chapter 1: G and B.

text by Gideon Jacobs (and Brad Phillips)

People emphasize the importance of beginnings and endings. One always wants to “get off on a good foot,” “go out with a bang,” “start strong,” “leave them wanting more,” etc, etc. These truisms are, at their core, about manipulation, and manipulation is, at its core, about control. If our “exquisite corpse serial novella” has taught you anything, which it really shouldn’t have, it’s probably that control is for suckers. 

With beginnings, we go from nothing to something, crossing the threshold into the experience in question. Examples: meeting someone, walking into a room, opening a book, etc, etc. We all know that the nature of this threshold crossing is the foundational stone on which the experience will be constructed. Change is what we notice. This is why we feel acceleration and deceleration, not velocity. This is why we place such a premium on first impressions. 

With endings, we go from something back to nothing, crossing the threshold out of the experience in question. Examples: breaking up with someone, exiting a room, finishing a book, etc, etc. We all know that the nature of this threshold crossing is the taste left in our mouths as we move on to other experiences, including that of telling the story of the experience in question to ourselves and others. In a sense, endings are valued because they so heavily inform the beginning of what’s next: our processing of what just happened.  

All that said, it’s the moment just before the ending begins, the gray transitional zone that marks the conclusion of the chunky middle, that tends to go underrated and overlooked. It’s here that people are most comfortable and, therefore, vulnerable, with the finish line finally in sight but enough race left to run that there’s no anxiety about what lies on the other side. It’s here, when we are simultaneously hyper aware of the finitude of the experience in question and still very much inside it, that we can really relax. 

So, relax. Soon, when things are officially almost over, you can start thinking about what you’re going to do when it is, in fact, over, but for now, just relish the purgatorial peace, the limbotic lull. Did you know the word “lull” has roots in middle english and latin that mean, “To quiet a child?” Whether you knew that or not, let your collicky inner child be soothed by the calming energy available in this unique moment of our greater narrative arc. Bask in it. Suck it like a fucking pacifier. 

Good. Now that you’re sufficiently relaxed, your defenses down, we can focus on the real goal of this meditation: to prime you in a way that allows for optimal enjoyment of the final chapter of our “exquisite corpse serial novella.” This process isn’t simply about getting you into a good mood so that you’re more likely to enjoy whatever comes next. No—what we’re going to do is have you prepare a positive expectation of how incredible the final chapter will be, and pair that expectation with a positive sense memory of how good it was. In a sense, we are going to create a mold in which your near-future experience of reading the final chapter can be shoved into. 

This might make it sound as if by predetermining the quality of your reading experience we’re robbing your future-self of agency, but that’s paranoid thinking. What could be more empowering than choosing your fate? What could be more enjoyable than guaranteeing your future enjoyment? Don’t be spooked—this is just what guru’s are really talking about when they talk about “manifesting.” 

So, let’s assign the final chapter a color. It can be any color, but be sure to choose one that you associate with good feelings, maybe love, excitement, comfort, peace, strength, etc, etc. Once you’ve chosen your color, imagine the final chapter not as a bunch of cold words on a page or screen but as a kind of warm, amorphous ball of energy that is, inside and out, your color. Anticipate how good it’s going to feel to enter the ball of energy, to cross the threshold between the penultimate chapter—your current experience—and the final chapter—the ball. 

Now, once you feel like you’ve spent enough time immersed in your color, once you feel your body and mind have been totally saturated by it, imagine exiting the ball of energy and finding yourself plopped into a beautiful home in the middle of a dinner party. There are a handful of your favorite friends there, and a few very attractive strangers too. The table is lively with conversation but you’re having trouble finding an opening to throw in your two cents. This makes you feel self-conscious, weak, timid, impotent, childish, etc, etc. 

Just as you’re about to give up, about to resign yourself to spending the evening sulking rather than participating, the most charming of all the dinner guests, maybe sensing you’ve been a little quiet, redirects the flow of the conversation toward you. Now, you have the floor as all eyes and ears at the table are wondering, “Have you read anything good lately?” “When was the last time a piece of writing really moved you?” and most specifically, “What’s a novel or novella that really nails its ending?” 

Normally, this much attention would cause your voice to tremble a little with doubt, anxiety, uncertainty, panic, etc, etc. But when you open your mouth, you suddenly feel like you’re back inside the ball of energy, or more accurately, it now feels like it is inside of you. When you speak, your voice doesn’t tremble. Much to your surprise, you sound confident and self assured as you tell your little audience that it is so funny they should ask because you have, in fact, just read something good, something that moved you, something that managed to both end with a bang and leave you wanting more. 


For more from Gideon Jacobs, follow @GideonsByeBull on Instagram.