Thought for the day:
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Endings
Morning sky is sooty and bleak looking here in Portlandia. All the firs out my office window are still as sentinels and a flock of crows keeps circling around as if looking for trouble. I’m a person who sometimes writes about the bitter truths of the writing business. No starry-eyed romantic, I’m prone to depict the writing life with the bleakness of a frozen graveyard. In Minnesota. In January. And there’s been a rash of deaths in the land of the wind-chill factor (likely from pneumonia) and graves need to be dug. Or maybe we'll just need to store those corpses until a thaw...
And when it come to the elements of storytelling, I'm all seriousness. Good stories are balanced. No unnecessary digressions or complications, no skimpy endings, no added characters or subplots or silliness simply designed to fill in pages. It's hard to list what are the most important elements of stories, but stories live or die by their beginnings and endings. It's what editors buy and readers buy into.
Laura Miller of salon.com has written an intriguing piece about how difficult it is to talk about a great ending here. Here's an excerpt:
"The trick of a good ending, of course, is that it must capture and equal everything that has gone before. The line “He loved Big Brother” (from a novel that ends as masterfully as it begins) means very little until you understand exactly who Big Brother is. A first line or opening scene need only arrest a reader’s attention and stoke her curiosity; a final scene or paragraph is expected to provide that sensation so rare in real life: completion. The better the book, the more nuanced and persuasive, the more difficult this is. We want a novel to swell with a sense of limitless possibility at the start and in the middle, but we also want it to zero in to a point of inevitability as it ends.
For this reason, last lines, like first ones, often suffer from a bad case of Trying Too Hard. Any writer can swoop up from the particularities of character or story to assert a magisterial generality and come across as terribly grand. If you like the 100,000 words that come before it, this tactic sorta works. Yet so many endings sound a note of profundity without actually being profound. (I confess that, lovely as Fitzgerald’s famous last sentence is, it doesn’t strike me as any truer than his equally famous remark about there being no second acts in American life.)"
I'll be writing more about endings and other elements of writing in the new year. Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart
I'll be writing more about endings and other elements of writing in the new year. Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart