It’s no secret that one of the first (never the first, mind you) things I write is the ending. It gives me something to work toward and it helps keep me in line. Sometimes, when I’m bubbling over with shiny new ideas and I tell my latest tale to my husband or mom or friends, before the ending they’ll smile and say,
“And they lived happily ever after.”
“With great power comes great responsibility.”
“And then everyone you love dies.”
My plots are resolved, my characters are all where they need to be (even if that’s dead), but there are no sunshine and rainbows at the end of my books. I don’t intend it to be that way. Every novel I start I want my MC to end up happy… And then I kill someone off, or they find out an unforgivable secret about their lover, or they commit suicide… BUT THE WORLD IS SAFE! Oh, well. It makes for an interesting story.
But I don’t think my dear readers will mind too terribly much. I mean, millions tune in for GAME OF THRONES and anyone can tell you that George R. R. Martin kills characters (even extremely very important ones) just for fun. It’s the man’s hobby, killing folk. Suddenly, I don’t feel so bad.
GIFs from Title2Come. Commentary my own.