One of the most frustrating things I see in stories is a secret being kept for the sake of it being a secret. The main character actually has a brother, but won’t tell anyone about it because ?. The love interest was amicably divorced but refuses to mention it because ??. A lot of secrets in books may have a good writer-reason for being kept a secret, but there’s never a good in-book-reason for them to be kept a secret, and so they feel like shoehorned plot devices that are only there to create tension and keep the plot moving in the direction you want.

If you are going to have a character keeping a plot-important reason, there needs to be an actual reason for it to be a secret, and that reason needs to be clear in the story and not just in your head. Do they think people will react badly? Do they have a history of people reacting badly to it? Do they want/need to do something that won’t be possible if people know that thing?

One way that people get around this is the mistreated child/formerly-mistreated child who doesn’t trust anyone and so keeps everything a secret. And believe me, I get this. But they should still have some concrete, if extreme, reason for keeping things a secret, even if it’s “every time I tell people things, they use them against me” or “every time I tell people things, they try to keep me from doing what I need to do”. Don’t just leave it as a nebulous *ugh adults, why would I trust them* because that tends to lead back into shoehorning territory.

Lazy “coloring” tutorial

1. The Dialogue Gut-Punch

I usually imagine this ending happening after some great, destructive plot twist or long-kept secret has been revealed to the narrator and/or reader. There is shock and awe and maybe some betrayal. This is where you fully feel the effects of what has changed, the beginning versus the end. And in this case, the end is not ideal.

Maybe the resolution’s scene has been set, but that’s not offering enough closure. How to tie up the loose end? A short (and I mean short) piece of dialogue. It usually involves a sense of resolve and acceptance, even if the resolution at hand is otherwise displeasing or harrowing. The gut-punch comes from that acceptance, that acknowledgment of what has been lost in the quest to fulfill their goals. Doesn’t always mean defeat or a pyrrhic victory, but all protagonists must lose things while trying to gain others. This is where that character and the reader feels the loss in the wake of a resolution. 

2. A Question and an Answer

This is a lot like #1, only there’s a different setup. Instead of a scene being laid out and then one line of dialogue, there are three components. The scene is set, a question is asked, then an answer is provided. The end. The question and answer usually revolve around the reflection of what has changed. A “what now?” for all intents and purposes. Can be used for a mysterious ending to a standalone or a setup for the next installment in a series.

It is worth noting that the answer does not always have to be dialogue. For example, a character could ask: “So this is what we have left?” and then a (brief) description is given of a ragtag crew that’s survived the whole story. Play around with it. 

3. The Full Circle

There are a couple ways to go about this ending. Two, in particular, are my favorite.

A) The story begins with a scene that has a very specific tone and attitude of the main character(s). The end of the story is a very similar scene (through setting, circumstance, characters, etc. as long as it’s obvious the last and first scene parallel each other). However, the last scene has the opposite tone and the opposite attitude. If the first scene is hopeful and the MC is full of naivete and energy, then the last scene is melancholy and the MC has been washed away into tired hopelessness. Or vice versa. Offers sufficient closure to standalone works. For a series, it would be quite satisfying to take the first scene from the first installment and mirror/flip it for the last scene in the last installment. 

Or

B) The story comes full circle through setting (or circumstance) only. In this case, the first (or inciting incident) and last scene share a setting. But the scenes do not mirror each other overtly or consistently. The significance relies upon the setting and the changes that have been made to the setting because of what has happened. It’s a good way to symbolize similar changes in the character(s). Maybe the story begins in the MC’s childhood home, where it is bright and full of life, but when the story ends in the home, it has become desolate and empty. Something has happened to the home over time, just as something has happened to the character over time. 

Note: there is also the divergence from these two examples where the character in the beginning is not the character in the end. Most everything else remains the same. It’s been used to show succession, defeat, loss, and the passage of time. 

The Full Circle allows a nice platform to approach the reflection, the resolution, and the changes all through subverted scene similarities and symbolism. 

4. The Joke

Pretty simple. The last line is a comedic remark. It should still involve a level of reflection and/or resolution for closure and cohesiveness. And please make sure it matches the overall tone of the story (not just the scene). 

And now #5, the long one…

5. The Cliff-Hanger (But it’s actually used to its full potential)

So many times, especially with TV shows, I see a story end with a dull, exploitative cliff-hanger. Sure, it works. But it doesn’t work as well as it could. These endings usually rely upon a plot twist that has no previous setup or mild, unbelievable danger. So let’s fix that and use the crap out of a cliff-hanger’s potential. 

The plot twist with no previous setup is boring and unfair. The reader (or watcher since I brought up TV) should be thinking “oh my God” not “what the hell?”. The difference is “what the hell?” equates to confusion and sometimes the fracture of their suspension of disbelief necessary for all fictional stories. “Oh my God” equates to excitement, shock, and enthrallment. ENTHRALLMENT is the key word here, as a cliff-hanger should reel you in further just as the story ends and you become impatient for the next installment. So how do we get “Oh my God” with a plot twist (there are other ways to get “Oh my God” but since (bad) plot twists are common, we’ll use that as an example)? The answer is: we build it up, we add foreshadowing and clues for the reader to find. Let them feel like detectives as they fill in informational holes and fall down rabbit holes of speculation, even if they don’t know what they’re looking for exactly. Let them get close, but not close enough. Add red herrings. If the plot twist is a shock to the narrator, make sure they miss things the reader doesn’t miss and make sure they aren’t super reliable. It all adds to that cloud of mystery around the reveal. It keeps the reader inside the narrative, not thrust out by a plot twist that comes from thin air. Trust the reader and trust your ability to manipulate the illusion of reality. 

The mild, unbelievable danger that the cliff-hanger so often relies upon is an idea that easily triggers examples. Again, mostly TV episode endings are guilty of this. What this involves is a life-or-death situation involving a main character that the reader knows (or at least believes wholeheartedly) cannot die. Therefore the cliff-hanger’s life-or-death danger becomes the opposite because the reader believes the character will leave the situation alive. How to combat this? Easy. Don’t put them in a life-or-death situation (this also goes for scenes that aren’t cliff-hangers). It’s boring if you think or know the character will live no matter what. However, hopefully by this point, the reader is invested in the character fully and cares about their wellbeing (because their life is safe). So, exploit that. Offer up a situation where the character’s fears, vulnerabilities, and weaknesses are played against them. Because even though they may escape this situation alive, the reader will (probably) begin to wonder what other things are at risk. The character’s happiness, significant other, assets, stability, et al.  Those things become muted points when the danger is heavily reliant upon an unbelievable life-or-death situation. 

However, there is an addendum to this. If your story features a rather large MC cast and you have proven your willingness to kill off some of them in the past, then a life-or-death cliff-hanger could still maintain its intended effect. Just… don’t overuse it. 

tl;dr TORTURE YOUR CHARACTERS AND DON’T PLAY YOUR READERS FOR CHUMPS. 

//

If you take away only one thing from these 5 examples, let it be this:

The key to a satisfying ending is reflection.

It doesn’t have to be overt reflection (trust me when I say subtle reflection is usually better), but the ending should show in one way or another the changes that have taken place over the story and the resolution that has befallen the characters. The ending wraps it all up into a bite-size piece of text and is the last thing you leave your readers with. Proceed with thoughtful consideration and caution. 

Also a quick Q&A: 

Q: “I don’t know how to choose the right ending.”

A: Do a couple different things while brainstorming:

• Imagine the ending of your story using each of these examples as well as others you think of
• If the story is first-person or heavily driven by the MC, ask “how would this character end the telling of their story?”
• Consider the overall tone and themes of your story– some endings fit those better than others
• Ask “what ending offers the amount of closure I’m trying to give?”
• Look at works of fiction similar to yours and their endings. Which work and which aren’t fulfilling?

This was a long post. Whew. You’re a peach if you read it all the way through. Hopefully this helps you on your writing journey.