Why I Wrote the Memoir Chapters First

What the Memoir Chapters Mean to Me

Before Written on Vinyl fully existed—before the structure, before the timeline, before I knew exactly how everything would unfold—there were the memoir chapters.

They came first. Not because I planned it that way. More because they felt like the clearest entry point into the story. They were quieter, more reflective, and a little more honest than anything else I was trying to write at the time.

Creatively, they gave me foundation. Personally, they were the part of the story that felt the most eminent. And from a storytelling perspective, they became the thread that tied everything else together.

They were never just pieces of the story.

They were how I learned what the story actually was.

Understanding Celeste

The memoir chapters are where Celeste comes into focus. In the main narrative, she can  feel elusive. Filtered through Vivian’s perspective, shaped by distance, memory and interpretation. But in these chapters, she’s direct. Intentional. In control of her own voice.

This is where we see how she became who she is.

And let’s be honest, I didn’t stand a chance against that.

I’ve said before, I am notoriously nosy. Give me a character with secrets, layers, and a past that isn’t fully explained and I will go digging. Writing these chapters felt like getting access to something I wasn’t supposed to see yet, so of course I leaned all the way in.

It was a chance to deep dive into a character who otherwise resists being fully known.

I couldn’t pass that up.

Tension Between Celeste and Vivian

Starting with the memoir chapters also created an interesting tension between Celeste and Vivian.

As readers, we’re given access to Celeste’s perspective in a way that feels intimate and immediate. But Vivian’s relationship to those same chapters is… far more complicated.

We read the memoir chapters as if they’ve already been written.

But between those points, we’re seeing Vivian reflect on them. On what was written, what was left out, and what might need to be changed.

And that’s where things start to blur.

Because writing someone else’s life isn’t neutral.

Vivian can fixate. She can spiral. She can get caught on one detail and turn it over and over again, trying to decide what it means and whether or not it belongs in the story at all.

And that tension sits underneath every memoir chapter.

A Shift in Atmosphere

One of my favorite things about these chapters is how different they feel from the rest of the book. They’re lighter, brighter, a little more open. Even when they’re dealing with complicated or emotional moments, there’s a sense of clarity to them, like stepping into a different kind of space.

The shift in atmosphere is intentional.

It gives the reader a break from the weight of the main narrative, while also offering a deeper emotional connection to the characters.

And in some ways it mirrors the same curiosity we feel in things like celebrity blind items. The desire to see behind the curtain. To understand something more fully. But instead of fragments and speculation, these chapters offer something closer, something more complete.

Or at least… something that feels that way.