Is there anything worse than an unsatisfying ending? No rude jokes, please, I’m talking about novels.

 

I am, of course, talking about the amazing book you picked up, that had you hooked from is dazzling first line, whose characters you have fallen in love with, hated with a burning passion, who you grew with… only for the whole thing to fall flat on its face at the end. The book you put down after the last page is turned, thinking ‘was that it?’. The endings that prompt lengthy and passionate discussions on forums, and not for the right reasons either.

 

For this reason, endings are special kind of trouble for writers. Just like finding the perfect opening line keeps me awake into the wee hours, and the Dreaded Middle makes me want to hide under my desk and never come out again, the ending brings with it a whole new type of pressure.

 

For me, I think it’s because this is the point I have been working towards for months, if not years. This handful of scenes is the climax in my writerly journey, and that of the characters I’ve got to know. It’s bloody emotional.

 

And then there are the constant doubts. What if the ending I dreamt up all those months ago no longer fits? Can I do my characters justice? Does this scene really have the emotional punch I wanted? What happens if readers hate it?

 

That last question is at the centre of everything. You could argue that this fear is present throughout writing a novel, no matter what scenes you’re working on, but as a reader there is something particularly aggravating about an ending that just doesn’t fit.

 

So how can you ensure your ending is satisfying?

 

I think the key is delivering on your promise. “What promise?” you ask.

Well, the promise you made at the beginning of your book.

 

Let’s take a murder mystery as a simple example. If you pick up a murder mystery, I think it’s fair to say you expect two things:

 

  1. There will be a murder
  2. The murderer will be discovered

 

There might be moustache-twirling Belgium detectives, nosy old ladies and a host of many other promises individual to the novel, but these two remain constant across the genre. The first expectation is delivered fairly early on, so let’s pretend you – the writer – have already delivered on that. The second is the promise that has driven your reader to finish the book. It’s the one that has kept them up late at night, when they should be getting beauty sleep. It’s the promise they’ve been discussing at length with their book group.

 

Imagine their disappointment, then when the detective unveils that it the death was – surprise! – just an accident.

 

You have promised a murderer. Not delivering one is akin to your reader ordering a greasiest, cheesiest pizza on offer and the delivery guy bringing them a kale and cauliflower salad. There’s nothing wrong with a salad – they can be tasty and satisfying – but if you’re expecting one thing, really getting excited for it, and then wind up with something very, very different… well I’d be pretty down-hearted and probably leave a strongly-worded review for the restaurant.

 

But wait, if I simply deliver on my promise, won’t that make the book a tad predictable and boring?

 

No. As you can see from the example above, the promise isn’t specific. You’re not saying in the opening chapter “the murderer will be discovered whilst in a car chase in Florence after being tracked down through Europe by the detective and his trusty dog.” The promise to your reader is a vague one.

 

Let’s move away from crime and into my more familiar territory of fantasy. Often, the promise is something that is laid out in the blurb. Let’s take Nevernight by Jay Kristoff (one of my favourites!) as an example. Warning: mild spoilers!

 

This is from the first line of the blurb on Goodreads:

 

“A fledgling killer joins a school of assassins, seeking vengeance against the powers who destroyed her family.”

 

This is Nevernight’s promise. If I got to the end of Nevernight and Mia (the fledgling killer) hasn’t made any headway on her path for vengeance I’d be extremely disappointed, and this book would not be one of my favourites. As it is, Mia makes a pretty good (and wonderfully bloody) start on avenging her family.

 

If the ending of the book was, however, for Mia to realise that avenging her family wasn’t the path she wanted to take, then this promise would have to change. The story, we would have forewarn the reader, is not about a young woman ready to wreak havoc on her family’s killers, but a young woman coming to terms with tragedy and moving on with her life. Perhaps even forgiving the murderers.

 

This change in the promise is everything between readers loving your book, and readers trashing it to high heaven because ‘wtf was that ending???’

 

The ending really does begin at the start of the novel.

 

With Project Merla I’ve tried to define my promise early on to myself, so I can continually work towards this as I plot and write.

 

A young woman must protect her family from the Empire that would destroy them, whilst coming to terms with her illegal magic.

 

It’s not beautifully worded, it doesn’t need to be right now since I’m only on the first draft, but it’s enough that I know what my book is about on the surface. There are many, many more things that happen in Project Merla. There is love and an unbreakable promise, evil witch hunters and a prince on the road to revenge. But the crux of it all, the thing that will drive the reader forward (I hope) is the question: will Merla accept her magic and rain hell down upon the Empire? If I don’t answer that question, if I don’t have a stand off between Merla and the Empire, if I don’t have Merla grappling with her magic, then I will have failed the reader.

 

Note here that I’m not saying whether Merla wins or loses those battles. I might set it up during the story so that any ending (a win, a loss, a stalemate) is satisfying to the reader. The key here is that I’m promising there will be a standoff, that Merla will be involved in these battles.

 

There is so much more to a good ending, but I really believe delivering on a promise is the beating heart of a satisfying ending.

 

Do you agree? Or do you think there are more important elements to a perfect ending?