The End: Are We There Yet?

Breaking up is hard to do, even with a story. Have you ever watched a movie and two-thirds of the way through wonder how in the world they’re going to end this story? Or read a novel and asked the same question? Let’s face it. Endings are hazardous terrain filled with landmines. Finishing with a flourish means avoiding unforeseen crevasses or loose gravel and leading our readers into a final landscape where the story ends well. So, the question—what makes a story end well?

How to end a story … well

A few years ago, I read an invigorating anthology titled, The Writing Life: Writers on How They Think and Work, edited and with an introduction by Marie Arana, author and former editor-in-chief of the Washington Post’s literary section, “Book World.” She included a super chapter by Muriel Spark, a novelist living in Italy, who says about endings:

“… I have learned that happiness or unhappiness in endings is irrelevant. The main thing about a book is that it should end well, and perhaps it is not too much to say that a book’s ending casts its voice, color, tone and shade over the whole work.”

I love that. It leaves me with an image of a gigantic shade tree casting its protective shadows over a large, rambling house (the book). Although many readers seem to ache for happy endings most of the time, we writers need to remember that not all pieces of literature are meant to, need to, or should offer a feel-good ending. Don’t we also crave useful insight into the human condition from an unexpected, disturbing ending done well? Key words: done well. Easier said than done.

To end is to do the hard thing

Endings are hard—hard to write and hard to bear if you love the story and want it to go on forever. I like heart-wrenching endings, thought-provoking endings, and even surprise endings if they compel me to reflect on meaningful changes the characters have undergone or the story’s subtle twists and turns. What I don’t like is an ending that annoys me by being trite or too tidy. If the writer has led me well and prepared me, I would like to feel satisfied or more thoughtful at the end. How about you?

One of my favorite movies, Casablanca, starring sad-eyed Humphrey Bogart and the spectacular Ingrid Bergman, has a terrific ending that, in my view, really is the only possible one for that story. Jack Heffron, author of The Writer’s Idea Book, says, “A good ending provides closure in which character, plot, theme, and tone match what precedes them in the story. If the star-crossed lovers in Casablanca had hightailed it across the tarmac, leaving Ilsa’s husband behind, we would not be happy.” Now that’s the truth, isn’t it? If they’d run off together, the whole story would have felt false.

An image at the end

A poet once told me this about endings: at the end of a poem or story, leave readers with an image. Images stick in our minds like Velcro, or at least have a better chance of remaining there than vague generalities. Rather than drawing out a laborious explanation to tie up the story, plant a suitable image that shimmers in the imagination—a burning bush or a crushed violet under the heel of a boot, or a metal spike strip embedded in the road. A picture might be worth a thousand words, but a well written ending with an image is priceless.