Sticking The Landing

I like the ending to my Prologue. I also got a comment saying it wrapped up nicely '


"Jennifer sighed, wiping her chin, as she watched her boyfriend zip up. She would have to re-watch this movie when it came to DVD. She loved a happy ending."
 
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I think this one, from "Counting To Eleven", is one of my snappier endings:

Not long after, I drifted off to sleep, still pleasantly tingling, hoping Kate might be up for a repeat one of these days. At five a.m. my alarm went off and I shut it off quickly, then padded out to the bathroom for a quick shower before leaving.

And that's how I found out where Kate kept the crocodile.
 
This is one I really struggle with. I think I’ve written like four ending passages that I’ve been super happy with, and the rest all feel like either a high school essay summary or a “and they all lived happily/sadly ever after.”

I think part of the problem, especially in LW, is that they want everything explicitly spelled out. “But what did he do with the rest of his life? Did he get married again? Was she punished?” Which, I get, but…

The best one I’ve done, I think, was in The Last Snowfall, but that’s a real downer. It’s short but comes with a long CW disclaimer for a reason, so I’d rather not post it here.
You've lost me. I know my brain is sluggish today, but what does CW stand for again?
 
I totally agree. In fact, for quite a few of my stories, I wrote the last line well before I finished the story. My most common pattern is to broadly outline the story, with a clear ending in mind, so everything is written to get to that point. The ending to me is the crescendo toward which the rest of the story has been heading, like a musical composition.

This was my ending to my 750-word "Hemingway-style" story The Bullfighter And The Woman:


A bull was not like a woman. When you fought a bull, you defeated the bull or the bull defeated you. The fight ended with grace and honor and death and when it finished you would go to a bar and drink gin or wine and the men would envy you and the women would desire you. But when you conquered a beautiful woman, the fight with her had just begun.

It was easier to fight a bull than to fight a beautiful woman.
 
My two best scoring stories also have the best final scenes, both too long to quote here. I now try to concentrate on the them with varying levels of success.
 
All right, I'll play this. My least successful series (in the eyes of the readers) was a fictionalized story about a real-life person, Valerie Solanas. She was a polarizing figure and many people who still remember her after more than fifty years often don't like her.

She apparently supplemented her meager income by being a streetwalker in New York. In this, a pimp named Pedro pulls up in his Jaguar sedan one night and on their drive around Manhattan he not so subtly insists that she work for him. This in 1968, less than three months before her attempted assassination of Andy Warhol. He eventually let's her out on the street. The last paragraph:

"She remembered Norma Desmond shooting Joe Gillis in Sunset Boulevard, and Gillis' body falling into her swimming pool. Was Gillis a bastard on the same level as Pedro, did he deserve death to the same degree? Probably not, but there was an arrogance in the way he rejected her, the way he judged her. Valerie could understand the satisfaction Norma must have felt when blowing him away. That line she said: "No one ever leaves a star; that's what makes a star." Valerie smiled thinking about it; that lady, for all her faults, had verve. Sometimes it was better to take extreme measures and not be pushed around by insolent little punks like Pedro and Joe. She felt a little better before going up to Stevie's apartment."

https://classic.literotica.com/s/valerie-in-new-york-ch-04
 
From a Desiderare
Lizzie caught the look, the long watching, the longing. She turned the handle of her cup towards the waiter and beckoned, with a subtle rise of her finger. The waiter came to her.

When you serve me, you may call me Elizabeth, she said.

From Garter Belts and Cigarettes
I had no real desire to go anywhere, but I eased myself from Ruby's mouth and lay beside her on the couch, my cock softening against her thigh. The aroma of our sex mingled, my come, her juice, in a delicious, earthy scent.

"Christ. I need a cigarette."

"What, to start over?"

"When I catch my breath." Ruby winked.

From The Dark Chronicles
Sometimes Lilith comes to visit, and when she does, I try not to look into her eyes. Because when she looks at me I see her father's eyes all blue, and it all comes thundering back. And I remember every moment, every thing, and my old heart creaks and one day might break.

Ah there, see, it rains outside, and I can't see any more, because I weep.

I am here, and cannot forget.
 
I don't know if this qualifies, but I get emails all the time asking when I'm going to publish the second book. This is the last paragraph, not the sentence.

On her lovely shoulders and neck, she bore the marks of the Countess of Blood. Her name is Doctor Jane Hanson, the most beautiful of all that humanity has produced. Soon after, she recovered, the Priory fell into wicked ungodliness. The contamination followed. Doctor Hanson, a novice named Sister Ruth, and I are the sole survivors of the dreadful plague, which befell the Priory ...
 
As a musician, I was once given what I consider the be the best advice I have ever been given. The person offering me the advice was a professional musician whose was held in very high regard. I s a newbie playing my first gig, listened intently... (Yeah right.)
Anyway, what he said I found to be true for music, but also very apt for writing.

You need two god songs... The first and the last....
The first song is your second best song, it has to be one that smacks them in the face...
Your very best song, is your last.... You have to leave your audience going "Wow. that was good,"

In writing I think its important to follow the same principles. Your opening has to be strong, it has to make the reader want to read the next line. Forget about the second page, if you can't get them past the first few lines you're screwed...

The ending has to leave the reader satisfied with where you left it...
Personallly, I'm shit t endings... I get a lot of comments saying shit like. The ending feels rushed... Which is probably true...
So, to paraphrase
Start strong, but finish stronger.
 
Surprise on the Appalachian Trail:
"Did you get contact details for Meg and Mac, or Scotty and Sarah? Phone numbers, email addresses?"

"No, didn't you?"

"No. I don't even know their last names."

"Probably just as well," I mused as I entered her.

Swinging Twins: After a tragic (but true :( ) ending - perhaps a bit of a downer...
Deb and I never went back to the "Dream Catchers Dance and Social Club", or any other swingers club.

What Happens On The Bus From Vegas...
"Honey, let's not waste any time. I want to get back to the hotel as quickly as we can, please."

"Okay...but why?"

"Because this night-", she put on a sultry voice. "Is not yet over!"

Accidental Exhibitionists:
As we were about to leave, Neil stopped me. Without a word he lifted my skirt and pulled my panties off. He tossed them onto the security guard's lap, took my hand and led me away.
 
WW, we've all done that.

Anyway, I always try to finish my stories with a snappy line. This is from my Pink Orchid story Hit me harder!

Amongst the gasps and laughter, I glared at Jen as I pulled my shorts up. She was smiling broadly, thumbs tucked into her bikini bottoms and her index fingers pointing at her cunt.

I'm thinking there may be some more full contact in my future.
 
My favorite "sticking the landing" ending is a bit too long to post here, but it's the Epilogue of one of my V-Day entries; Fading Memories. The story spans the lifetime of a couple from young and foolish to a time when death takes the wife. A Valentine's Day card began their lives together and the now old man still buys a card for her every Valentine's Day as a way to keep some hold on the love they shared.

There's been several comments about tears on this one. I figure that if I make someone cry over an imaginary death, it's a job well done.
 
About 10 years ago a writer here called Myrionomos achieved a particularly effective landing about the end of a relationship in the 13th chapter of a 20 part Novella, Educating Harry:

"The engine of Harry's ute roared into life: Maria rose unsteadily from her stool, went up to her bedroom and curled up on her bed.

And wept."


No explanation, just the story line and the circumstances to allow the reader to imagine her feelings in their own minds.
 
As a musician, I was once given what I consider the be the best advice I have ever been given. The person offering me the advice was a professional musician whose was held in very high regard. I s a newbie playing my first gig, listened intently... (Yeah right.)
Anyway, what he said I found to be true for music, but also very apt for writing.

You need two god songs... The first and the last....
The first song is your second best song, it has to be one that smacks them in the face...
Your very best song, is your last.... You have to leave your audience going "Wow. that was good,"

In writing I think its important to follow the same principles. Your opening has to be strong, it has to make the reader want to read the next line. Forget about the second page, if you can't get them past the first few lines you're screwed...

The ending has to leave the reader satisfied with where you left it...
Personallly, I'm shit t endings... I get a lot of comments saying shit like. The ending feels rushed... Which is probably true...
So, to paraphrase
Start strong, but finish stronger.
Isn't that the way the songs on albums used to be arranged? Probably obsolete in our digital age.
 
I do like my endings. This was the first that came to mind:

"Yeah, I know," Roxie said. "You'd think I was the one with the pants in our relationship. But it turns out he's the one with the balls."
From Class Reunion

I don’t plan for my endings, just like I don’t plan the stories, they just kind of happen. But I do try to end the story with something memorable once I know where it ends.
 
I usually end my stories with an optimistic uptick, no matter how downbeat they are -- except for one story, "Body and Soul", one of the finest tales in my massive, bloated oeuvre:

He runs into the path of an oncoming bus.

I bet you didn’t see that coming. Neither did Pete.

The accident happens just minutes away from the Royal Free hospital, but it still takes ages before an ambulance arrives.

The number on the bus is 268. What’s the significance of that? None.

When the bus hits Pete, full-on in the chest, Pete is killed instantly, but Pete's Soul floats away unscathed, lucky bastard.

It’s an unlikely, ludicrously abrupt and unsatisfying ending. I suppose you might feel cheated. Well, I’m sorry, but that’s how death is, sometimes. You know how many people are killed every day crossing the road? Well, Peter Albright is one of those people. God Rest His Soul.
 
"Then tell me...say it." She said, a smile tilting the corners of her lips.
He pulled her closer, "Ok sugar pussy." her pleased smile grew at his words, then her mouth fell open in shock as he added softly, "Which means I love you."
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I watched him walk away I was neither guilty about what we had been doing or sad because of my decision. All I could think about was the time to come and Julian in my bed every night.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Well I think we should go to your tent and seal the deal...again. " I replied as I kissed her on the corner of the mouth.

"Again and again and again and..." As her lips moved slowly to mine, smothering her last words as we kissed.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"I love you." He whispered.
As he said it, he felt a breeze touch his cheek and again thought he heard the faint sound of laughter. With a smile, he climbed down the wall, on his way home, the seed of peace and hope inside him.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
He nodded and she replied with that impish grin as she stepped out the door, "Get your rest, you're going to need it."

A second later a huge grin filled his face as he stood and began to pull on his clothes. Their game had just gotten a lot more interesting!
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tala smiled, "He will be fine Papa. I have the sight. I have foreseen it."

She looked down, put her hand over her womb.

A smile filled her face as she added softly, "And now the prophecy will be fulfilled. "


Comshaw
 
Jan opened her mouth wide, then said to June, "Try to shoot it in... And try not to miss. I don't want you messing up my make-up. We have a long evening ahead." Then she opened her mouth wider and tilted her head back.

I stepped closer beside Fred, smiling at him. Looking down at my wife, I remembered the same scene with Fred's wife in front of me.

"Are you lusting for her, yet?" I asked.

June looked at me as she stroked her husband. "Sit down and watch, Ted. You're going to need your strength when I'm done here."

Dinner could wait. It seemed the wives had other plans for the evening.



From "Lifestyle Ch. 10 - House Parties Cont."
 
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