The Place For My Writers Notes

Original Posting 13 April 2010

Writers Digest, August 2007, pages 83 and 84 have an article by Colleen Thompson about endings. With a sidebar by her, and a short piece by James Scott Bell about endings. And there's even an exercise about endings! So... hah! The final part of our four-part series on endings. The end of the endings? And we switch authors, to James Scott Bell.

So what does James Scott Bell have to say? "Endings must wrap up your novel in a way that satisfies and surprises you should know the feeling you want to leave the reader with before you start writing. You don't have to know the details, but you do want a destination to aim for."

Then he suggests you avoid these temptations:

• Deus ex machina. Someone or something conveniently solves the main characters problem for him, out of the blue. Make sure the main character plays a significant role in the ending.
• Soliloquy. Don't depend on one long character speech in the last chapter to wrap everything up and explain it all.
• Anticlimax. Sometimes the main story finished, but for some reason the author just kept writing. When the fat lady sings, the story is over. Stop.

And how do you find an original ending?

• Brood about it. Let the story material sink into your brain and spend the time to dream up a great ending. Don't rush this.
• Create several alternative endings, then choose the best. You can even use material from one of the other endings to provide extra twists or depth for the ending you choose.
• Choose a word to describe the mood of your ending.
• Find the music that captures your mood.
• Write your ending, letting the emotions roll, making it memorable. You can always cut it back if you need to, but let yourself go!
• Edit your ending. Work to find just the right final paragraphs or images. Try for resonance -- that feeling that the story is still ringing in your reader's mind even after they've finished the words.

'saright? So... a great ending! Just like a great beginning, it takes hard work. And they're the bookends of your story. So spend the time to polish them so that the readers find the sparkle and glow attractive.

Original Posting 1 April 2010

Writers Digest, August 2007, pages 83 and 84 have an article by Colleen Thompson about endings. With a sidebar by her, and a short piece by James Scott Bell about endings. And there's even an exercise about endings! So... part two! Without further adieux?

Exercise! Here's the five step program that Colleen recommends:

1. List what each protagonist must learn, overcome and change to achieve, revise or abandon the story goal. (tink says, "Oh, how does the protagonist change?")
2. Reread your book's opening to determine what type of ending its tone or genre promises.
3. Brainstorm five possible outcomes for your protagonist and decide which will leave the reader surprised and satisfied. (tink says, "Oh, a quota! But shouldn't we have done that way long ago?")
4. Write a brief synopsis, sticking to the main characters and primary plot. Keep it short. Use it to visualize the story's beginning, middle and end. Try many versions until you find a favorite. (tink says, "Y'a know, Colleen must be a discovery writer. Okay, so she's pulling plot out...")
5. If you're stuck, skip the build up and write the most emotionally satisfying final scene you can envision. Then write your way to it by filling in the missing pieces. (tink laughs, "Yep! Okay, let's write the final scene, then figure out how to get there.")

Go ahead, write!

Original posting 26 January 2009

Resonating Endings

Writers Digest, December 2005, Fiction Essentials column by James Scott Bell has the title, "Leave Them with Hope." He's focusing on how to make the finish memorable, something that resonates with your readers. He admits to writing a good conclusion is hard, but also crucial. Endings need to tie up loose threads, answer this significant story questions, and be satisfying.

"The best endings do something more than give closure. They leave us with resonance. They produce the right emotional notes on that final page. Just as a patron of a great symphony says, 'Ah!' when a musical piece is over, a reader will do the same with a memorable finale."

So how do you create resonance? One of the best, time-honored ways is with a hopeful conclusion, an optimistic finish. To create that kind of an ending, try this:

• dig into your character's inner thoughts. Write down what your character is thinking as the story climaxes. Get that inner monologue in his or her own words.
• then feel your character's emotions. What are they feeling at this point?
• write at least two pages of potential ending material. Then revise it down to a few key paragraphs that are the perfect ending.
• read your final paragraphs out loud, listening to how they sound

You'll probably end up with a kind of lyrical ending. This only works if it feels organic, and fits the work. So what do you do if you want simple imagery instead? Try this:

• summarize the key relationships of your characters. Which is the most important one to your lead character? Why is this the most important one? And how has your character's life and his relationship changed for the better?
• list several images that convey a feeling of the relationship. Symbol, action, place -- whatever fits for you. Now pick the one that creates the best emotion.
• write up several potential endings using this image. Freewrite about it. Then condense your work. Show off the image.
• go back into the book and foreshadow and plant the image. Connect the characters to it emotionally.

You want your conclusion to impress your readers. Make it a hopeful one, that satisfies your readers. And listen for the "Ah!"

Okay. Next step, what kind of an exercise could you use? Well, the obvious thing is to take your work in progress and try the steps to create a lyrical ending, or an image-filled one. Go ahead, give it a try.

Another tactic would be to take a couple of novels that you really liked, and look hard at how they end. What did the writer do for an ending? Does it fit Bell's model? Can you imagine going through the process that Bell describes and creating such an ending?

'saright? See if you can make your ending resonate.

(doing the minuet waltz?)

original posting: Fri, 24 Sep 1993 11:25:48 JST

HI, MARY! WELCOME TO THE GRUNGE WRITERS ROUNDTABLE!

Mary asked
- Is a story better because it has a write-your-own ending? I'm just
- wondering. I've always hated those kind, but now that I think of it,
- the stories with predictable endings/or surprise improbably endings
- are sometimes unsatisfying also. The story about the boy with leukemia
- ended to patly for me -- I was hoping for a different outcome -- maybe
- I would have preferred a write-your-own ending.

better? not inherently. if you like structural notions such as a "story question" which eventually results in a "story answer" or perhaps conflict and resolution, the "write-your-own ending" format is unfinished, incomplete, and not to be tolerated.

On the other hand, given the reader's own drive for closure and the ambiguity of some questions raised in stories, it may be a useful technique on occasion. Not to avoid resolving the issue, but deliberately raising an issue, developing the alternatives, and whacking the reader between the eyes with the dilemma.

If the "write-your-own ending" is a simple escape from digging up a satisfying, unexpected, logical, etc. ending - then the writer is being lazy and should be chastised for it (let the critics at 'em, serves 'em write!). On the other hand, it is possible (if carefully handled) to make the "unfinished" nature a satisfying ending, embodying the dilemma, frustration, confusion (pick your own words) that the protagonist feels.

How do I say this? The writer is trying (fumbling) at making the reader experience (vicariously) something, with some hope of raising some thoughts in that lump over there. One method, generally used, is to walk the reader right along the path, from beginning to end. Another method, somewhat more technically difficult, is to raise the questions and hope the reader tries to finish the path on their own (goes all the way back to Socrates, I believe). Still another approach (very tricky) is to provide the reader with an ending and trick them into finishing the path on their own in rejection of the ending given.

Which is "best"? Depends - on the writer, the reader, the questions or subjects being tackled, and other cosmic influences.

Personally, I have a strong desire for closure - I like endings. I'm not even too happy with the cliche "arm from the grave" horror bit, with its suggestion that the horror isn't really over.

I'm with Roger - I wish I knew what I was talking about. Maybe I'll take up Tarot readings...

Original posting: Wed, 17 Nov 1993 18:00:04 JST

Hi, Allen, jc, et all. I think we're doing "it's been done before" again, with the focus on twist endings. Anyway, let me add my usual endless babbling to the good words jc had to say.

I think maybe the best place to look at how to handle "twist" endings is over in the mystery genre. They are probably the most conspicious and blatant about the story being a puzzle - almost a struggle - between the writer and the reader, with the writer presenting all the pieces and (in the best mysteries) the reader still wondering just who did it, how, etc.

The great mysteries, though, as jc suggests, can be read a second or more times, and still are interesting, even though you know exactly who did it. Some of the keys seem to be in providing a depth of characterization, "other information", and "extraneous plotting" that provide enough other interest that the underlying puzzle really isn't that important.

The mystery genre is fairly harsh about requiring that all the clues and information needed to solve the puzzle be available to the reader, preferably well ahead of time. Frankly, the readers also require it - there is nothing worse than having a writer "pull a rabbit out of the hat" at the end and thus solve the mystery. It is almost as bad as having the writer pull a god out of the blue and resolve the drama that way (deus ex machina, anyone?).

On the other hand, IF the clues and information have been there all along and the reader still doesn't know the solution, then they are delighted when the detective fits it together and catches the criminal. There's a kind of intellectual pleasure in watching the great detectives winnow through exactly the same clues and information you had and show you how to fit it together and solve the mystery.

Part of the trick for the writer is "burying" the clues ahead of time. (I think I've seen articles on this - Mystery Writers Handbook, maybe? Didn't take the time to dig it out, you'll have to settle for notions off the top of my fevered id...)

Some of the ways I can think of to bury clues:

1. buried in rubble - simply include the information as part of a massive amount of information. e.g., the police surgeon details the clothing, etc. and contents of pocket including A, B, C, D, E, and F. Found near the body... D turns out to be the crucial clue, but since it is simply presented without emphasis, most readers skip right by it.

2. the dog that didn't bark - absence of G is crucial. Sherlock Holmes made this famous, but it still throws readers regularly - missing keys, etc. are noticed by the detective, but not by the reader. Be a little careful, because readers can get upset. The best thing is to provide them with the information that G would normally be present in another part of the story or another context (capture a thief and turn out his pockets, including the keys that weren't in the victim's pocket...)

3. purloined letter - hidden by obviousness. knives in a kitchen, the doorman that no one notices, the mailbox that no one checked, etc. if presented as part of the background without special emphasis, the reader skips right by such normal items... until the detective points out that George, the doorman, was there that night too, even though no one has included him as a suspect...

4. misinterpretation by the reader - this is tricky. basically, it involves deliberately leading the reader into implications and suppositions that hide the true meaning of the clue(s) from them. unless it is carefully done, it is very likely to convince the reader that you have misled them as a writer. a good way to cover - use your "Watson" or other minor character as a foil - let them misinterpret it, and be baffled by the detective, then the reader can chuckle at their own mistake because obviously Watson also goofed.

If you want an example - lots of jokes depend on this. consider almost any of the ones about "the doctor" doing something - reader/listener jumps ahead, thinking the doctor is a man - and then revealing that "the doctor" was a woman.

5. Unusual usage - the ice cubes used to lift the table the necessary two inches, the nylons used as a fanbelt (which let her drive the car even though the fanbelt was broken), etc. - the trick is to present something that can be left and described in plain view whose normal use misleds the reader. popular mechanics used to have lists of these "emergency tricks" and I think there are books of them now. part of the trick of getting away with this is making a fuss about the water around the table legs or the condition of her nylons - which clues the reader without giving away the trick.

6. Bits and pieces - presented separately and clearly, but in an order that makes it difficult for the reader to recognize how to put it together into the rube goldberg sequence that makes it work. this is the MacGyver or A-Team or even Mission:Impossible puzzle - you've seen all the pieces, but until they show you how to put them together, they seem insignificant. Notice that while these shows use this kind of puzzle, they normally don't use this resolution as the main plot climax - it is a subplot, playing along with the main part.

The key to all these tricks (IMHO), though, is to start at the end - what are the pieces that the detective puts together to solve the problem? then go back through the story and find natural hiding holes for all these. For example, a lipstick might be an important clue. ok - can you have the criminal passed out? then the detective can go through her purse, looking for ID, and incidentally (haha!) finding the lipstick and ignoring it (as the reader ignores it, since it is perfectly ordinary then).

I suspect the writer may also be the best judge of whether the story has enough depth to stand, even when the trick is known. After all, the writer knows the trick, knows where they've stuffed every clue - all they need to ask themself is whether the story is interesting even ignoring that part. Is there background, changes or revelations about the characters, and action to make the reader come back even when the trick is well-known?

Incidentally, if you want to see a set of SF stories that fall pretty flat the second time around, try the Star Surgeon stories by James White. The first time through, the focus is on figuring out what is wrong with the patient, and the reader puzzles with the protagonist. The second time through - blah!

For a contrast, try Borders of Infinity by Lois McMaster-Bujold. The puzzles are there, and the reader tries to guess. But even after that, you can read and reread the stories for the depth of characterization and emotion, for the sheer fun of the roller-coaster ride.

I think if you grab this ( http://community.livejournal.com/writercises/49414.html TECH: Well-Worn SF Ideas ) I listed the "common slushpile twists" one of the SF editors provided.

Be aware that Card, for example, in Ender's Game, breaks one; Footfall (Pournelle and Niven) runs over well-trod ground - alien invasion; and other writers have made their name deliberately taking on ideas like this that have been done a few too many times - but not the way they did them!

A notion for the birth idea - suppose you assumed that fetuses, unknown to science, actually form a telepathic link with the mother's brain, and experience everything in the womb. And suppose that it is only the trauma and shock of birth that destroys that link and the already well-developed patterns of thought. The patterns of thought imprinted during this time are actually what later develops into the individual...

Heck, you could even postulate that all fetuses are linked - until birth. Imagine being torn from a telepathic community. no wonder they yell!

Anyway, now you have a good reason for a thinking, feeling baby - who may even know that birth will be the end of this life! You've also got a significant struggle - the baby knows this telepathic life, and knows it is ending.

Go ahead and use it - if you want to. I don't think anyone has done that one yet...

and even if they have - put your own spin and depth into it, so that the story doesn't live or die on the twist, and it will be your story.

[okay, ready to think? let's get those little neurons hot, cause here comes the big scene...]

1. Take your scene (this is your selection. pick one, with characters, etc. come on, just choose something...)

2. The structure of a scene--the moment-by-moment action of characters in a background--is GOAL-CONFLICT-DISASTER. Start by writing down the question you want the reader to have about the scene: specific, definite, immediate goal-oriented, with a yes/no answer.

3. Pick the ending you want to reach. There are only three basics: No!; Yes, but (conditions)--usually dilemma; and No, plus (added failure). Pick out the disaster you want to get to. It should be an unanticipated but logical development that answers the scene question, relates to the conflict, and sets the character back. Write that down.

In searching for your scene-ending disaster, don't always grab the first idea that comes to your mind. Your reader will be guessing along with you, and you don't want him to outguess you and anticipate the disaster before you give it to him. Chances are that if you make a list of six or eight possible disasters that would work, one of them well down the list from your first idea will be fresher, brighter, worse for the lead character - and not predictable by the reader. You always want the reader kept guessing!

4. Make a list of conflicts. You want somewhere between three to five twists or turns. Make a list, then arrange them in a rising order, so that the reader can feel the tension grow.

5. Write it up! Throw the reader into that scene, walk through the action, make us feel Tim dodge and Gwen raise her voice, oh, duck, the monkey just threw a plate across the veldt, and watch for the bomber...

[and for the one-line seed folk...]

She swung the ax down once, twice, three times--and laughed.

[ahah! do you know her? what is she chopping? and why is it so funny?]

buried in a neverending flow of words, afloat among the bytes, I remain.

so what? I divide and conquist adores! (spelling intentional!)