This is what I really mean
Kevin, Miss and I got into a conversation at dim sum about storytelling, in which I freely admitted what I have never kept a secret: that I am draconian narrative… mistress: harsh, brutal, unapologetic, unforgiving. Don’t ask me to spend hours of my life with you and give me no payoff. Other people may be okay with that, but I am most certainly not; there’s nothing else I can think of that’ll get you on my storytelling shite-list faster than lack of an ending.
I’m so passionate about this that I can’t seem to talk about it without resorting to profanity (my apologies) and foaming at the mouth, which is kind of embarrassing. So imagine my delight when, surreptitiously, I find this bit of gentle wisdom while researching my next WEIRD TALES interview:
“But there’s comfort. There are always more good stories, and now and then there are great stories. They come along if you wait for them. And here’s something I believe in my heart: No story can be great without closure. There must be closure, because it’s the human condition. And since that’s how it is, I’ll be in line with my money in my hand on July 21.”
Thank you, Stephen King. I will try to channel you the next time this subject comes up.
(In other news, the Scryptic column wherein I ranted about same is 3 years old, almost exactly to the day. The soothsayer in me is desperately looking for some meaning here somewhere.)
(”Soothsayer” is not the right word, but neither me nor Mr. O.E.D. can think of the right thing right now. We know it’s out there.)
A couple of random questions I’ll put to ye right now:
1. How much fat is in an avocado? I was indifferent until about 15 minutes ago.
2. Will GoDaddy ever stop sending me email and calling me on the telephone to give the the heads up on that crappy domain I’m intentionally allowing to expire?!?
Yes, I’m a little punchy right now.
Terri is in town this week. Hooray!
June 17th, 2008 at 3:39 pm
For the most part I prefer closure as well but occasionally I’ll run into a story that doesn’t quite have closure…or maybe more accurately doesn’t end with all the details I want it to end with…and I can be okay with it. But it has to be one awesome story up to that point or I too will go bat-shit crazy!
June 30th, 2008 at 2:14 pm
Mandatory closure to stories is sort of an American-centric concept. It is a lot like the American happy ending. We take it for granted that if our stories require a story arc, character arc, and closure; that this is how everyone feels stories should be.
In many Eastern European countries people find the happy ending and stories were all the loose ends are tied up to be just sophomoric and idealistic.
As a minimalist, I hate to add in characters or subplots that don’t come full circle, but I have read a lot of really great stories were they didn’t. They leave the reader to answer the last question, “What happened?”
I think this is why I really enjoyed the ending to the Sopranos (although I wish they had just ended and not left me with two minutes of silence). However, if they had completed the story, too many readers would have been unhappy. Does he get whacked? Does he live and Meadow get shot? Does Tony end up in jail? We all had our secret desire to see it end a certain way, and David Chase opted to let us sort it out for ourselves.
June 30th, 2008 at 2:58 pm
Hey there! Lovely to “see” you here.
Regarding taking it for granted, I never said that it’s my way or the highway. Believe me, I am well aware that not everyone feels this way!
But I am unabashed that I feel this way, and that there are unwritten contracts with certain kinds of storytelling, namely popular fiction. Perhaps not a 3-part arc, but certain payoffs and closure.
And clear storytelling. You don’t have to answer every question for me, but you DO have to be clear if I’m giving you my time. “I don’t want to spell it out or spoon feed my readers!” cry sometimes means “I don’t know the answers myself!” which is just lazy.
I could talk about this for hours.
I was very, very happy that I hadn’t invested all that time in the Sopranos, let me tell you.