When I was young, I had a constant struggle with story
endings. My issues led me to create the following ill-advised rules:
1)
The story is not over until every character in it is dead.
2)
No one is allowed to read my story until it is absolutely
finished.
I clung so stubbornly to my two
Rules that if anyone managed to catch a quick glimpse of my current prose piece whilst any of the
characters in it were still alive, I would consider the piece to be ruined.
Devastated, I would take the pages of the now-defiled story to my room and tear it to bits.
Now,
years later, I still cringe as I pass an unfinished story across the table for
a colleague of mine to read, but I force myself to do it anyway. After all, I
have learned to side with my characters. A reader’s opinion can save
one of my ill-fated heroines from an untimely death when I’ve given up on other
ending options.
