The Perfect Ending
How many times have you read a book with an intriguing and imaginative premise and compelling characters, a book that had you completely absorbed, only to be disappointed by the unsatisfying last few pages? The story doesn't really end, it just sort of stops. You can almost see the author leaning back in his or her writing chair, staring at the ceiling, wondering, "how can I wrap this up?" Your story might be a real humdinger, but the whole thing fizzles if you don't stick the dismount.
I think short stories tend to have better endings than novels. This is probably because with short fiction, there is more focus on keeping the overall structure tight. With a brief plot, a good conclusion is the sine qua non. With a novel, however, the author is free to indulgently explore a sprawling concept. The trouble with doing that is the intrinsic lack of resolution. Fantasies and daydreams don't have beginnings and endings. When you bask in an appealing idea, you are perpetually in the middle.
My personal definition of the Perfect Ending is one that causes the reader to say, "of course! It's so fitting and proper! It couldn't possibly have ended any other way!" A good ending makes you realize that everything that happened in the story was leading inevitably to this, even if it was a surprise.
The archetypal example of a book with a Perfect Ending is Moby-Dick. The ending MAKES the book. The ending IS the book. If Melville had allowed Captain Ahab to kill the white whale and brought the crew of the Pequod safely back to Nantucket, all you'd have is a lengthy and forgettable narrative heavy with cetology. But the ending turns it into a masterpiece, an object lesson on the dangers of monomania. It has launched a thousand questionable symbolic interpretations, become the subject of countless theses, and given us The Wrath of Khan. All because Melville ended it the right way. It doesn't have to be pretty (or happy), but it has to be right.
I believe a prudent thing for an author to consider at the very beginning of a project is, "HOW will this end . . . and WHY?"
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Austin's Amazon author page
I think short stories tend to have better endings than novels. This is probably because with short fiction, there is more focus on keeping the overall structure tight. With a brief plot, a good conclusion is the sine qua non. With a novel, however, the author is free to indulgently explore a sprawling concept. The trouble with doing that is the intrinsic lack of resolution. Fantasies and daydreams don't have beginnings and endings. When you bask in an appealing idea, you are perpetually in the middle.
My personal definition of the Perfect Ending is one that causes the reader to say, "of course! It's so fitting and proper! It couldn't possibly have ended any other way!" A good ending makes you realize that everything that happened in the story was leading inevitably to this, even if it was a surprise.
The archetypal example of a book with a Perfect Ending is Moby-Dick. The ending MAKES the book. The ending IS the book. If Melville had allowed Captain Ahab to kill the white whale and brought the crew of the Pequod safely back to Nantucket, all you'd have is a lengthy and forgettable narrative heavy with cetology. But the ending turns it into a masterpiece, an object lesson on the dangers of monomania. It has launched a thousand questionable symbolic interpretations, become the subject of countless theses, and given us The Wrath of Khan. All because Melville ended it the right way. It doesn't have to be pretty (or happy), but it has to be right.
I believe a prudent thing for an author to consider at the very beginning of a project is, "HOW will this end . . . and WHY?"
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Austin's Amazon author page
Published on October 31, 2014 14:21
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Upside-down, Inside-out, and Backwards
My blog about books, writing, and the creative process.
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