THE END IS NIGH, OR IS IT?
SHOULD IT FINISH THIS WAY, OR THAT WAY?
Oh, how to end this!
Often writers have trouble finding just the right ending. It's not uncommon to try out dozens of different ways of finishing a piece of writing, only to tie yourself up in knots trying to come up with an even more inventive closing.
Should it be a summary of what's gone before? Should it allude to a phrase or theme within the piece? Or, how about a detailed explanation, in case the reader didn't “get it.”
How about: “and the moral of the story is...”?
Sometimes it is advisable to put it aside for a while, and instead of picking at it, read articles and essays that you think are really good. Listen to the rhythm of how another writer has finished off their piece. Notice their word choices. Does the final line (or lines) have that satisfying round-up of what the writer was saying?
Or does it not tie things up with a bow, but leave a question in the reader's mind? Does it make them think?
When I am in the midst of this guessing game, looking for the “perfect ending”, I try to absorb the way someone else has "closed the door" or "left the door open,” looking for clues for my own writing exit.
Elizabeth Gilbert finished her 491-page novel “City of Girls” with a letter, which was a bit like the tying up of loose ends.
“I don't know how much longer I will be here, of course, but as long as I remain on this earth, my dear Angela, I am yours.”
There is a finality to a good ending. The words let you know, this is it, I've said all I can. If you want to imagine things turning out differently, that's up to you, the reader.
Some people like a “fill in the blanks” style of ending, where it is ambiguous. Did they do this, or did they do that?
The type of ending I don't like to see is the one where something is left dangling. It feels like the writer just ran out of steam and stopped. It's like they got up from the page to make a cup of coffee and never returned. It has an unpleasant, not done, can't-make-up-my-mind, feel to it. Or that's how it makes strikes me. They couldn't decide on an ending, so they just left the job.
I especially feel cheated with this type of ending if it has been a long book and I want to know what happened, or why it happened, or some conclusion.
Possibly the hardest book to write a good ending for is the memoir, as the author of the book is not dead yet. They haven't had the last word. All they can do is draw that part of their life that they are sharing with us readers to a satisfactory close.
In Lorna Crozier's memoir, “Through the Garden, A Love Story (with Cats)” she ends with the death of her husband, the poet Patrick Lane.
“I'm stunned by Patrick's absence, turning over and over the rich tones of his voice in this loneliest of hours, my first awakening of life without him.
Some days there's just too much rain.”
These are not the final words, it does go on for another paragraph, but there is the finality that is her introduction to widowhood: a cold slap in the face. We get it.
The line, “Some days there's just too much rain,” is just the type of lyrical phrase you would expect from a poet, which she is.
Poetry has a lot to teach writers about how to end. Poetry doesn't go on and on, unless it's one of those epic sagas.
I remember reading about a poet who said he knew when his poems were finished when (metaphorically speaking) he could hear them snap shut. I often feel that way too, that this is the closing. It has the feel of completion, that I've said what I set out to say. That there is a musical final note to the piece.
A poem wraps things up in such a way that shows you a view of life that you'd not considered before. A different slant on things. There's nothing spare, nothing that waffles on. It says what it means to say and then stops.
Isn't that what all good endings do? It pulls together this bag of words with a drawstring and pulls the cord. There. That's it. Done.
Once again, any comments are welcome. I'd love to hear your views on endings. And thank you too, ever so much, everyone who is reading my endings every week. You know who you are, and hugs to you all.
See you again next Monday.
Thanks so much for your comment. Welcome, as always. You are right, life isn't a bag to be drawn up, and, as you so accurately note, I am not dead yet!! The drawstring and tying up referred to how when a piece of writing works and there is no more to be said, rather than life in general. But, as you also noted, there is a large element of intuition that tells you when you're finished, no more, that's it. Again, I do so appreciate your comments! Keep 'em coming!
Such a conundrum. I reckon you will know it when you see it. It's intuitive as you say.
A feeling of nowt more to say.
And you are not dead so a sequel could follow.
There's something to be said for a sad ending. By that I mean perhaps a sense of loss as at a certain age most of us can identify with that.
Life isn't a bag with a tight throat to be tied up.
Life is what happens while you're making plans. To quote John Lennon.
And you have more life ahead of your memoir.
An open book of wonders yet to be explored. Where changes like seasons surprise and in them some flowers flourish as others fade but each moment is new as are the spaces in between moments. They are the ones to watch.