Wednesday, August 31, 2005
What to Do When the Ending is a Foregone Conclusion
It's part of a writer's job to craft stories that build anticipation in readers and keep them wondering, "What's going to happen next?" That question is the brick and mortar of a bigger question, "How's it going to end?" that compels readers to actually finish the book.
But, what to do when readers already know for certain or can guess fairly accurately the story's conclusion? Epic historical fiction, disaster stories and end-of-the-world stories are some examples. For instance, the title of the blockbuster movie The Towering Inferno tells the audience the building is going to go up in flames. Yet fans flocked to see it, sparking a deluge of similar disaster films.
How do stories create anticipation and the need-to-know in readers when the ending is a foregone conclusion? When readers know from the beginning that the characters' noble efforts in the main plot to stop disaster/war/prophecy will certainly fail?
Make it personal!
The reader knows from the title Gone With the Wind that the winds of war and reconstruction will blow away Scarlett's way of life. She doesn't. She fights it tooth-and-nail for over a thousand pages. But what makes the reader keep turning those pages is the personal story in front of the main plot. That is, what's going to happen next to her relationship with Rhett? What's going to happen next to her relationship with Ashley? (Not, what's going to happen next in the war.)
Joel Rosenberg's best-seller, The Ezekiel Option, revolves around a major prophecy in the Bible's book of Ezekiel. It isn't a spoiler to suggest anyone wanting to know how the main plot ends need only read Ezekiel 38 and 39. Watching how the prophecy specifically unfolds is the "hook" making the book different from others. But it's a fast-paced and compelling read to the last page because the protagonist has personal stakes in the outcome. It's about the protagonist's love for a special woman, and his struggle with his faith. The prophecy's manifestation applies pressure, ups the stakes, and creates a deadline for the protagonist's personal goals. The reader wonders while the inevitable resolution looms as an ever-darkening threat, "Will he win or will he lose his personal goal?"
When the reader knows the end from the beginning, give them something else to worry about. Give them something personal.
But, what to do when readers already know for certain or can guess fairly accurately the story's conclusion? Epic historical fiction, disaster stories and end-of-the-world stories are some examples. For instance, the title of the blockbuster movie The Towering Inferno tells the audience the building is going to go up in flames. Yet fans flocked to see it, sparking a deluge of similar disaster films.
How do stories create anticipation and the need-to-know in readers when the ending is a foregone conclusion? When readers know from the beginning that the characters' noble efforts in the main plot to stop disaster/war/prophecy will certainly fail?
Make it personal!
The reader knows from the title Gone With the Wind that the winds of war and reconstruction will blow away Scarlett's way of life. She doesn't. She fights it tooth-and-nail for over a thousand pages. But what makes the reader keep turning those pages is the personal story in front of the main plot. That is, what's going to happen next to her relationship with Rhett? What's going to happen next to her relationship with Ashley? (Not, what's going to happen next in the war.)
Joel Rosenberg's best-seller, The Ezekiel Option, revolves around a major prophecy in the Bible's book of Ezekiel. It isn't a spoiler to suggest anyone wanting to know how the main plot ends need only read Ezekiel 38 and 39. Watching how the prophecy specifically unfolds is the "hook" making the book different from others. But it's a fast-paced and compelling read to the last page because the protagonist has personal stakes in the outcome. It's about the protagonist's love for a special woman, and his struggle with his faith. The prophecy's manifestation applies pressure, ups the stakes, and creates a deadline for the protagonist's personal goals. The reader wonders while the inevitable resolution looms as an ever-darkening threat, "Will he win or will he lose his personal goal?"
When the reader knows the end from the beginning, give them something else to worry about. Give them something personal.
