Chapter 13 of L’homme Theroux is done. It is my least favorite chapter so far. Much like my flesh-and-blood children, I love all the chapters, but in different ways. This particular chapter I am considering sending away to boarding school until it grows up.
If I were to completely excise a chapter, this would be the sacrificial lamb. Unfortunately, to do so would leave a gap too large to Spackle over with writer tricks and voodoo. I have already written a couple of fast paced scenes in the previous chapters, but they were contained in a small physical space.
Having a gunfight in a basement, a la Inglorious Basterds, is quick, messy, and brutal, but the action flow was excellent. After my experience the past couple of days, I imagine the scene from Rooster Cogburn (the 1975 sequel to True Grit, for you young ‘uns) firing the Gatling gun from the raft while escaping the bad guys was infinitely more difficult to write, both because of the pace and the physical distance covered.
When I come back around to edit the book, this chapter is going to need some extra attention. It will wind up either being great or tossed on the trash heap. I do not see much middle ground.