Tagged: ending

It’s Not Safe To Go Alone

r-avatarThe end is in sight!

Son of Music Novel is nearing completion. We only have to write 5.5 more scenes before we reach the finale. That means that we really need to figure out the ending now.

Gasp! You say you don’t have an ending? That’s not entirely accurate. Months ago when we were brainstorming and outlining this beast we had a vision of the ending. We knew in broad strokes what would happen, and that vision has not changed. But now it’s time to fill in the details.

We’ve talked in the past about the importance of having pretty much every detail planned before you start writing, which is especially important when you are writing with a partner. Endings are a little bit different for us, though. We like to leave a little wiggle room so that as we develop the characters throughout the novel we can tailor the ending to them.

Well, now it’s tailoring time. Kent was finishing up a scene and Jen had just filled in all the stubs leading up to the grand finale. Since Kent was occupied, Jen got out her measuring tape and her pin cushion and scissors and took a stab at brainstorming the ending. Alone. It did not go well. She was coming up with brilliant insights like “When the disaster strikes, the characters can be inside or outside.” She was not wrong.

By the time Kent finished his scene, Jen had found a different little project with which to occupy herself, so Kent took his own stab at storyboarding the ending. Alone. Like an animal. His contributions were something like “The disaster could be a fire. Or a flood. Or a tornado. Or a volcano. Or a giant squid attack.” All exciting scenarios to be sure, but he wasn’t really getting anywhere with his list.

So then we started talking to each other. We’ve said a million times that communication is the key to a successful writing collaboration, that two heads are better than one, and we’ve just proven ourselves right. Go Team Skelley!

As soon as we started talking, the ideas started flowing. In less than half an hour we’d devised something brilliant. And it still looks brilliant a few days later! At the end of August we set ourselves a goal of having the first draft done by the end of the year, and it looks like we’ll actually be done much sooner than that (if this didn’t just jinx us). Either of us on our own would be screwed, but together we can work miracles!

Music To My Ears

r-avatarWe’ve been deep in our music novel for the past few months, and just last week we reached the conclusion of Novel #5 in our critique group. This led to a lively discussion about endings in general, and the parallels between fiction and music composition.

There are many different approaches to endings, and different kinds of readers prefer different ending styles. What they all have in common is that readers seek a feeling of completion, that a “good” ending must be “satisfying” — whatever that means to each individual.

In music, this feeling of completeness is dependent on resolution. If the song changed key somewhere along the way, it will feel unresolved until it returns to its home key. The repeat structure, the lyrics, all kinds of elements of the music can contribute to this sense of resolution, of things coming together. This isn’t to imply that the only valid endings are those with complete resolution. Far from it. Some songs end on the up-beat and leave the listener ringing with unresolved energy. There are false endings, and slow fade-outs, and many other conventions.

Just like a good story ending, these various ways of handling resolution play with our instinctive, intuitive drive to have things tied up neatly. Sometimes the power of the ending comes from the elegance with which this denouement is achieved, while in other cases the conclusion’s ambiguity is what makes it stick with us, like the song that bounds up for its final beat, and never comes back down.

Tricky endings are definitely a place where it’s necessary to know the rules before you try to break them. Done poorly, they just feel flat. Like the author just stopped typing and called it “the end” without addressing questions raised along the journey. An ambiguous ending with no cathartic climax (aka, the European ending) isn’t right for every story, but then again not every tale calls for a big showdown. Just like not every song wants a gradual diminuendo, and not every song wants to end with a cymbal crash.

Look at the threads that make up your story, at the choices that haven’t yet borne fruit, and construct an ending based on satisfying your readers. Or, leave just the right questions ringing in their minds.

Synergistic Tag-Team

r-avatarWe’ve been beavering away on the revisions for the music novel, and we’re getting close to done with this pass. The ending has gotten a major overhaul and now kicks total ass.

The original ending is something we were happy with when we wrote it. Our critiquers mostly thought it was okay, but not awesome. They made some good points, which we were able to acknowledge once we had a bit of critical distance. So, as we turned the rest of the novel inside out we pondered the ending. Certain outcomes were nonnegotiable. The details of how they came about had quite a lot of flex.

Jen had the idea to work in one of the heroine’s character traits which had been underused in the old draft. It’s a pretty significant detail and we had just completely ignored certain implications of it. When Jen suggested we utilize it in the finale, we both had a “how long has that been there?” reaction. We’re obviously not going to spoil the ending, but imagine something along the lines of a character having a knife in her pocket and just not thinking to use it to cut herself free. Only it was us who forgot she even had the knife. We won’t put any of this on her, because she’s actually quite smart.

Something else that influenced — and complicated — the flow of concluding events was the inclusion of a different POV character. As we mentioned before, the rewrite gave point of view to a character who had not previously had it. Kent adopted this guy as his pet character, writing pretty much all of his new scenes. When it came to the ending, he had some great insights into what this guy would say and do, and the new stuff crackles with tension.

Kent wrote some great action and then Jen went through and beefed up the emotional content (yes, we’re back to our stereotypical gender roles). There’s been a lot of nitty-gritty back and forth on this pass, which is the whole reason to have a writing partner. They see things you don’t, and vice versa.

We <3 Outlines!

Kent made an interesting observation the other day. He speculated that when authors say they don’t like the outlining process, what they’re really saying is that they don’t like to be reminded of how much work is ahead of them. Novel writing is a lot of work, there’s no getting around it. But to us it makes all the sense in the world to start with a thorough outline. It may seem like an extra step, but it will save you a ton of time in the long run.

As we mentioned last time, we created a multicolored visual representation of our new plot and spent a few hours studying it. Then we went back to brainstorming and long conversations, and we discovered a new wrinkle for one of our characters, a wrinkle that we wanted to incorporate from the very beginning of the story. If we had simply plunged in and written the first draft, when we discovered that this guy needed a little something extra we would have needed to go back and rewrite all of his scenes. Since we’re taking the time to outline, all we had to do was replace a few of our dark green paper squares, and shuffle a few of the others around. Other characters got notes added to their squares where they intersected with Dark Green, et voila! — heartache, recriminations, and carpal tunnel syndrome averted. Go team!

Alas, the ending is still proving elusive. We have something sketched in that feels right, most of the time. Other times it feels too simple. This has led to an entire week of throwing possible endings back and forth at each other. Most are utter crap, but the ones that pass the first nose-wrinkle test get a full discussion. This entails referring to the plot rainbow so often that we’ve just left it out on the floor all week. We’ll need to pick it up before the Pulitzer Committee comes over for tea.

Tag! You’re It!

The Rune Skelley approach to collaboration is normally a very planned-out and measured type of experience. As we’ve said in earlier posts, we like to keep things structured.

Well, this week has been interesting, in that we’re operating in a decidedly more seat-of-the-pants mode. We do have an outline for what we’re doing, but as the words are falling out it’s become kind of a relay race. The chapter is a highly kinetic sequence made of short scenes and alternating points of view, so during a work session there has been a lot more “tag! you’re it!” than usual.

What it reminds me of is something I would normally not recommend as a way to write with a partner. We call them chain stories, and they’re a sort of game where the object is to build from where the other player just left off and throw the tale in an unexpected direction for the next player. As a game it’s a lot of fun, but the results are seldom coherent. So far though, we’re really getting good stuff and we’ve been very productive. It’s probably made easier because this is the last chapter of the third book in a series. We know these characters like they’re real people, and we know our target.

The lesson is, there’s no single correct way for writers to work together. If you get into a flow, if the “jazz” approach is working, then go with it!

Happy writing!