Well, my friends, this is going to be a Very Long Post, so much of it will be stashed behind cuts, just so anyone reading this on LiveJournal Friends' pages doesn't have to scroll forever to get by it. Not that anyone wants to skip it. ;)
Roll call of participants in this conversation: Kelly Fineman, author of picture books, chapter books, and a lot of poems; Tess Gratton (
everflame), author of numerous stories that might be characterized as bloody fairy tales or fantasy (in a There Will Be Blood! sense, and not in the British usage); Carrie Jones (
carriejones), author of Tips on Having a Gay (ex)Boyfriend, Love and Other Uses for Duct Tape, Girl, Hero, and the recent fantasy release, Need; Jill Myles (
irysangel), author of two forthcoming sexy paranormal romance titles for grownups, Gentlemen Prefer Succubi and Succubi Like It Hot, involving a succubus; and Maggie Stiefvater (
m_stiefvater), author of Lament, and the forthcoming novels Ballad and Shiver.
Here's how this came up. See, I read (and loved) Maggie's book, LAMENT, and
posted a review. And then, in the comments, in response to a comment that
robinellen made about backstory and whether readers really want to know everything that's going on, Maggie said this:
I completely think this is a case of readers thinking they want something they really don't. Like . . . I always say that I love happy endings. I want the characters to get everything they wanted and happy music to carry them blissfully into that good night.
But when I get it, I'm sort of -- blah. I mean, I smile and it's wonderful and I'm happy -- and then I forget what I just watched and read and go about my business, life uninterrupted. But if the author or the movie delivers me a partly-happy and a partly-sad, a bittersweet ending, I find I can't just carry on with my life afterwards. I think about the story for a lot longer, while I do the dishes, or drive, or talk with my friends.
So do I say I want the happy? Oh yeah. But I don't think I mean it. I think it's the same with the backstory. Better to ache to want more than to feel overstuffed.
To which I responded:
I agree. Your bittersweet ending has kept me happy (and thinking about the book and the characters), whereas a happy ending might not have. Although a happy ending with unresolved questions also works - it's a question of leaving some stuff open, I think, that keeps you thinking and invites you to return to the book if, like me, you're a re-reader. (Truly, yours is a happy ending with unresolved questions, for that matter, but still . . . the not knowing whether Luke and Dee will see each other again, etc., makes it tricksy.)
P.S.
What say you to a joint post/conversation sort of thing discussing happy endings . . . (discussion of other meanings of that last term cut for length and, possibly, propriety).
Any interest? We could hammer out the idea better, perhaps, but I think it'd be a fun conversation/post.
And Maggie said yes, and in response to some further back-and-forth, we decided to do this by email, then post on say, Weds. or Thurs. And Maggie suggested dragging Jill and Tessa in, and I dragged Carrie. So, here we are, having a conversation about the endings of books.
Opening question:
In your opinion, what constitutes a happy ending? (Also, you should know that my brain automatically goes to a very unseemly place when those two words are put together, so I always giggle and feel vaguely dirty using the phrase, even when ordering dessert with my meal at Friendly's. But I digress.)
I have to say that I see the merit in Maggie's assertion that leaving everything with a happily ever after (HEA) can lead to a somewhat forgettable conclusion. But I don't think that means that the main character can't end up with his or her prince/princess - rather, there needs to be stuff left unresolved. Opinions? Theories? Analyses?
JILL:
Hey! *waves*
Disclosure: I've been reading romance since I was 12 years old. It has pretty much colored how I view most novels, so take everything with a grain of salt. You are talking to someone who slipped into a 3-day-funk after watching Disney's POCAHONTAS and there was no Happy Ever After.
That being said, I am perfectly happy with a HFN (Happy for Now) as I am with a HEA. In a nutshell, if I can close the book and the author fell off the world tomorrow, and there is still closure between the romance of the hero/heroine and I feel like they're together? I'm happy. A good example would be the movie TITANIC. I was about to run out of the theater screaming when it ended like it did, but then they showed the death scene at the end (where she is reunited with Jack) and that kind of slapped a happy band-aid on everything and made it 'acceptable' in my mind. Which is weird (and doesn't explain where her 2nd husband went after she died, but whatever).
The HEA doesn't have to mean that the two main characters are now manacled together for the rest of their lives (especially in YA, because that would just be kind of weird). I guess it's that I need to believe that they're going to be able to explore their relationship to the fullest.
Does that make sense?
:)
KELLY:
I've been reading romance since I was 12, including a fair number of Harlequin romances over the years, and I really like the idea of HEA endings. That said, I understand Maggie's point about a HEA ending rendering a book easy to forget (or stop thinking about), but I would say that's a particular sort of HEA, where there was only one issue and it's all sewn up (most Harlequin romances) or where there were a few subplots, but they're all sewn up as well (kinda sorta what JKR did in the epilogue to book 7, I'd argue, which is one of the things that pissed people off, although I stand by my theory that she was trying to preclude Warner Bros. from essentially writing additional movie sequels, since they have the screen rights to the characters, evidently).
As a recovering TWILIGHT addict (massive binge-reading - 4 times through the series since November), I think that the reason BREAKING DAWN's HEA ending works is that Meyer left some threads open: Will the Volturi come back? What will happen if they do? Who will Jacob end up with? (There are other questions of a more minor nature, like "Do Garrett and Kate make a go of it?", too.) Anyhow, I think that's part of what keeps you thinking about the book once it's done.
SPOILERS RE LAMENT - Skip if you'd rather: In the case of Maggie's book, I want to know what the deal is with James, and why the fairies aren't so sure that saving him was a good idea, and whether Luke and Deirdre manage to see each other again (after all, she saw Una and other fairies before, so why couldn't she see Luke after?), and whether we find out more about her mother and that bitch, Delia, and whether she goes off to the private school for "special" kids (I'm sure she does, based on teasers from BALLAD, but it was a question until I read those), etc.
SPOILERS RE NEED - Skip if you'd rather: In the case of Carrie's book, I want to know whether Zara has any powers other than the ability to see through glamours, and whether she and Nick move ahead with their relationship, and whether the pixies are going to get out of the house, and whether Devyn walks again, and whether Issie is some other sort of Shining One, etc.
So yeah - a HFN ending works for me, too (and really should be the only sort of ending one expects in a YA novel, unless one marries off one's character for all eternity, which one probably shouldn't actually do).
But what constitutes happy?
TESSA:
Yo!
Here's my definition of a happy ending: the main character survives and defeats the bad guy, any love interests or best friends also survive, and the road ahead is (at least for the foreseeable future) a positive one.
This is different from a good ending. Happy endings CAN be good endings if, they follow the characterization and genre of the story. Meaning: if Hamlet had made up with Claudius and he and Gertrude stepped down in favor of Hamlet, that would be happy, but NOT good, because it would have been totally out of character for ALL the characters.
In LAMENT (I'm trying to avoid spoilers, except in the most generic sense) the conclusion reflects characterization and previously established "rules" of the world. That's why, while not exactly fitting in to the definition of a happy ending, it remains, to me, satisfying/good. (I think "good" pretty much equals "satisfying to reader."
(Disney's POCAHONTAS is another excellent example of that! :D If Pocahontas and John Smith had lived happily ever after it would have totally effed up her character.)
I know now that what I want is satisfying. But when I was a teen, I thought I wanted HEA (or at least HFN). I occasionally skipped to the last page of a book. (I sometimes still do that, but for different reasons). It's important to remember that teenagers tend to want happy in a really indefinable sense, so while that gives us a lot of room to play, it also means we have to be careful about the line we're walking. Maggie's gotten a lot of bitching about having a not traditionally happy ending, but the complainers have still loved the book. :D It could easily have gone the other way if she's done much differently.
CARRIE: [KRF: Warning - If you are already hungry, this bit will send you into a frenzy.]
Nancy Lamb wrote in CRAFTING STORIES FOR CHILDREN that a book's ending “must honor the contract [the author] made with the reader in the opening paragraphs.”
So, to me, that's what it's about. The ending has to fit. The ending has to matter, and make sense. I could care less about whether it's happy or sad or atomic. The ending is the place where you go, "Aha. Of course. That's right."
And it can vary. If you think of the book as a meal at a fancy restaurant (bear with me) it makes more sense.
You have a beginning of a book like a beginning of a meal.
You have no idea what you're going to eat or order. You have no idea what's going to happen. Everything is vague and then the beginning gives you a focus. You are going to order portabella mushroom risotto. That is what the beginning of the meal tells you.
The beginning of a book is the same way. You have no idea what's going on. You open the book and you are suddenly focused from the infinite to the finite. Okay, you say, this book is going to be about a girl who falls in love with a hamster.
Then the middle of the book kind of scopes out. You aren't just having risotto. You also, it turns out, are getting a salad and these cute little rolls that come with cinnamon-scented butter, or perhaps olive oil. You have greens. Your risotto has red pepper in it. You never expected that.
A book is the same way. Reality is suddenly a lot bigger. The story and characters are a lot more rounded. And it's all so tasty and yummy and good. That is the middle.
Then we have the end, right? The end is more like the beginning because it takes everything that's happened before and brought it to this one action. It's something important and necessary. It might be happy like a hazelnut crostata. It might be a little dangerous like some limoncello. It might be something good and comforting like a brownie sundae, but it has to make sense with the rest of the meal.
The ending of the book is like that too. Everything is all about one action suddenly. All the characters and the wants and themes and the dialogue is all suddenly tied up in one lasting action and one lasting image. And that ending has to make sense.
The author has entered a promise with the reader. That promise is set up at the beginning with the tone of the book, and with the problem confronting the character, and sometimes with the formula of the genre. The reader has expectations created from the very first page. Those expectations have to be met. No matter how awesome your dinner is, if you find a brown recluse spider in your bananas foster you are not going to be saying, "Damn. That meal was ex-cel-lent." You're going to be saying, "Holy crud! I am NEVER eating there again."
Books are the same way, I think.
So, it's not about happy for me. It's about keeping up the promise.
Wow. I just rambled way too much. I'm so sorry. [KRF: Er, no, you didn't.]
CARRIE, in a separate email:
For me a happy ending is an ending where you have hope.
JILL:
Keeping the promise is so true and pretty much sums it up perfectly. I think I'm really effing bothered by a non-happy ending when it does not seem to have any purpose in the story except to eff over everything that just happened for the past 300 pages.
In romance, the whole point of the story is for the characters to get together and find that special someone. So if you rip them apart on page 298 out of 300, the uproar will be deafening and your readers will all vanish.
Maggie's book [LAMENT] - the whole point of the plot wasn't to have Luke & Dee bump uglies. (Spoilers spoilers ahoy!) The entire plot started out with "Why is this weird stuff happening" and morphed to "How can I save Luke?" If the story ended with Luke still being trapped but him and Dee holding hands and walking into the sunset, it wouldn't have been a happy ending.
I read another book recently, historical fiction. The main character was driven by a compulsive need to find her happiness, so she crossed thousands of miles and went to live with a man she didn't love, etc. All trying to find a better place in the world. She ends up dying in the second to the last chapter, and I felt totally ripped off and cheated. There was no point to it, other than to screw with my mind, because the author had set up the whole "Her goal is happiness" and she got totally hosed on the deal.
TESS: [Further warning for the hungry!]
I'm extremely enamored of Carrie's food metaphor. (I love metaphors more than anything else in storytelling).
So, I wonder if it can be extended to the writing. If the ending is dessert, is it a good idea to know what you're going to serve? If not exactly, then the family at least. I might not know if I'm going to serve my blondie with apples or ice cream, but I know I'm aiming for that scrumptious blondie goodness. That means I know from the very beginning that I should serve fried chicken instead of mu shu pork, but maybe I can play around with whether green beans or broccoli suits better. And if I get to dessert and suddenly realized that I need chocolate chips in my blondie, and that in turn means I should have made chicken fried steak - hey, nobody's eaten it yet, so I have time to rearrange the menu and maybe go to the grocery store for some organic cracker crumbs.
Wow. Can you tell I've only had about two sips of my coffee this morning? (Which is a necessary ingredient in ALL my stories.)
MAGGIE:
Wow, I find myself starving after reading this conversation, and I am turning my Blame Eyes right on Carrie and her risotto.
Okay, so. What is a happy ending? My concept of happy endings is pretty much wholly informed by Hollywood. A happy ending to a movie basically is this: the good guys get everything they want. The bad guys get punched in the face by Richard Gere. Sunset is ridden into. TOP GUN music plays.
In a Hollywood happy ending, there aren't any meaningful loose ends. Yes, we wonder what happens next, but in a very satisfied, gorged-on-risotto-of-happiness kind of way. For instance, in PRETTY WOMAN, Julia Roberts a) gets the guy, b) gets the ever after with him and not just the mistress title and the swank apartment that comes with it, and c) also stops being a whore. Not only that, but a) Richard Gere becomes self-actualized at his work, b) gets the hot girl, and c) punches the guy from Friends. And if that is not enough happy-risotto for everyone, even Julia Roberts' coworker at Ladies of the Night gets a happy ending: the gift of moolah so she may stop doing the horizontal mambo for rent.
The only person who doesn't get to share the happy meal in that movie is the bad guy, who, as mentioned, gets punched in the face and loses out on his job subplot.
Pretty Woman isn't the only unremittingly happy ending out there in Hollywood or bookland, but I think it just about epitomizes it. Happy for the deserving. Ice packs for the losers.
For some reason, I swallow this sunshine and mirth a lot better in movies than in books. In books, a neat tie-up like that really makes me break out in rashes at worst and forget what I was just reading at best.
KELLY:
But, but - Richard Gere's a Buddhist. He's not supposed to punch!
Also? In the original ending to PRETTY WOMAN, she got all the money and got to stop being a whore, but she didn't end up with Richard Gere. She ended up with her friend on a bus to Disneyland. And test audiences went stark raving mad, and they went back and shot a different ending, or so goes the story.
MAGGIE:
Well, and I think the audiences went crazy about the original PRETTY WOMAN ending because of that whole happy = what characters wanted. You'll notice Julia Roberts never mentioned not wanting to be a prostitute. She did mention, however, that she wanted Richard Gere. To grant her what she didn't ask for and not give her what she did? That's like a grandma giving you underwear and socks for Christmas.
JILL:
The book I read [that became, in essence, a throwing book, as referenced in a prior paragraph] was historical fiction based off of a real-life event and it wasn't a romance or anything close, but I was still enjoying it up until the main character (who had an absolute shit life, pardon le french) just up and died for no reason. I was furious.
Another good example of screwing your readers/watchers. CITY OF ANGELS! That Meg Ryan movie with the horrible, horrible ending.
The ending IS a big deal to me, though. If there is a sniff of a romantic storyline, I read the ending first to ensure that it turns out well. Usually, if it does not, I don't continue reading (Maggie's book excluded - I read it!). I think this is actually pretty common with romance readers. :)
KELLY:
I so agree with you on CITY OF ANGELS. It would be a throwing sort of movie, if such a thing were possible. I was all "WHAT????" And I still haven't gotten over it.
MAGGIE:
I think the end of CITY OF ANGELS was a dare. I'm stickin' to that theory no matter what.
JILL:
Kind of like casting Nick Cage as the handsome hero was probably a dare too? ;)
CARRIE:
OMG! Jill! I am in Starbucks drinking hot apple cider and I SNORTED IT OUT MY NOSE when I read this. The cute bearded guy in the fisherman sweater is now laughing at me.
Too funny.
MAGGIE:
And I think they cast Nick Cage because of the doleful "gypsy eyes" as Cher called them.
KELLY: [Responding to Jill's earlier email]
Can you elaborate more on what makes a romance ending particularly satisfying or frustrating for you? I think it'd be kinda cool to hear more about that angle.
JILL:
I'm pretty easy on a romance ending. They have to be establishing a relationship by the end of the story. That's it. Of course, it varies from setting to setting. Obviously I want a marriage for someone in Regency England (since you can't really have a real relationship prior to that) or Medieval England. Modern times, I'm okay with 'dating exclusively'.
Sometimes romance authors feel the need to give stuff a 'Carebear Ending' (as my friend says). This is where the poor, title-less hero suddenly inherits a fortune, and he and his wife are shown in the epilogue cuddling their perfect triplets. AKA, overkill. I don't really need that. I just need a happy wrap-up of some sort, even if it's just holding hands and making goo-goo eyes as they run off into the sunset. Epilogue not required, but I prefer one...as long as it does not involve suddenly titled triplets, naturally. ;)
That being said, I vastly vastly vastly prefer the ending where I'm told what happens over the ending where I'm left to supply my own. Another movie reference - THE CUTTING EDGE. Love 99.99% of that movie. Hate that it ends with the cliffhanger where you're supposed to fill in the blank. Hate hate hate.
Grrr!
I realize this is all terribly skewed toward romance and thus probably seems bizarre, but I swear it makes sense. Promise. ;)
MAGGIE:
You absolutely make sense, Jill -- I'm sorry, but just because there is a lot of romance in a paranormal setting does not make it a paranormal romance! There are heavy romantic elements in a lot of novels but they do not have the same feel to me as an actual romance-romance. It's why I sort of glance at people sidelong when I hear them call LAMENT a paranormal romance -- it's not, it's urban fantasy. Now, SHIVER is a romance. Romance and love is the reason for that book to exist. But LAMENT or BALLAD? not a chance.
MAGGIE [in a separate email]:
I wanted to pitch in on the idea of reader expectations too. Because I'm going to be the devil's advocate and say that I don't think that reader expectations define a happy ending. Because then what do we do with surprise endings? The ones where you go "WHOA I never saw that coming but YUM."
So therefore it can't all be about reader expectation. I think it's more about consequences. All events that happen in a book create consequences. All character flaws and attributes color those consequences. A happy ending is one that gives you the best possible logical consequence of those actions, and a sad ending is one that gives you anything else.
When you look at it that way, it leaves room for a happy ending being less than rah-rah-sunshine-pudding time. If the plot is that Clan FergusMonroeLachlan is attacking Castle O'StirlingCullodon, the logical consequence is that people will die. A happy ending is one where our protagonist survives, but it doesn't mean everyone does. Everyone living wouldn't be logical. Depending on whether or not our fearless protagonist went out into battle with his armor on or not, it might not have been logical for him to survive either. But that's the happiest possibility.
Likewise, if it's a plot about someone with terminal cancer, it would be pretty freakin' happy if the ending was they were miraculously cured. But it wouldn't be very logical. So I think a happy ending in that case would be they got more time or they got their subplots under control.
I think a logical happy ending is almost always bittersweet.
KELLY:
I guess I'm going back to earlier comments about good endings vs. happy endings. What I'm really looking for in a book is a good ending, by which I mean one that is satisfying. It can be a painful ending, even a tragic one, as long as the stage has been set for that. If, at the end of A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, the ending was that of HAMLET (and then pretty much everybody died, except for Flute, the bellows-maker, or something) it wouldn't work, because we've been sold a comedy full of romance and clever pranks. Ending in massive tragedy would be akin to having the tablecloth pulled out from under that mushroom risotto (which sounds delicious), only the entire table setting would also go flying onto the floor, and possibly your lap, and you'd never eat at that restaurant again even though the risotto had been pretty damn delicious and it had all been fine up until now.
For instance, in Sara Zarr's (
sarazarr's) STORY OF A GIRL (and it's been a while since I read it, so forgive any errors), the ending is completely satisfying because it's along the lines of "and the MC finally started to forgive herself". That's related to Carrie's analogy, where the book opens with her sense of guilt, but in that book, the ending totally constitutes a good or satisfying ending and is, in a way, a happy ending without anyone having ridden into the sunset on white horse. And heck, since I already brought it up, there's HAMLET, the end of which is totally satisfying even though everybody except Horatio and the guy from Norway ends up dead, in part because Hamlet finally mans up and not only stabs his uncle/stepfather, but also pours poison down his uncle's gullet. Or take WUTHERING HEIGHTS, which has a satisfying ending even though Heathcliff has ruined pretty much everything, because 1) he and Catherine are reunited in the afterlife and 2) you get the sense that Cathy (Catherine's daughter) is going to maybe end up happy after all. Still good endings, even though they are not truly happy. (Although one could argue that Heathcliff dying is a cause for celebration, I suppose.)
JILL:
Oh! And all this food talk reminds me of my own personal philosophy about romance novels: they're like cakes. There are chocolate ones and vanilla ones and red velvet ones, but they're all cakes. They're the same, plot wise - the entire goal is to get the hero and heroine together and work them toward the happy-ever-after.
And characterization is like icing on the cake. Some books have a lot. Some only have a little. Some go overboard (y Halo thar blind crossdressing master-spy heroine) and put too much icing. Some don't put enough and you're left with cardboard characters and no flavor.
That's why plots are different in romances than in regular urban fantasy/paranormal. No matter how you dress it up, it's still a cake (IE, romance). You can put a ton of frosting on it, but it's still a cake. And if you remove the elements that the romance readers want (the happy ending, etc), you're basically putting icing on uh...a shoe. And your audience will hate you for it.
Which is why paranormal romance /= urban fantasy, ever ever. And it puzzles me that people can't see that.
Does that make sense or do I just sound like a crazy woman?
KELLY:
I've read enough romance to understand your perspective. And I think that your preference for a conclusion that satisfies your expectations of the genre works across genre lines. Would any of us have liked Agatha Christie's novels if they never told us who did it? Mysteries must be solved. Romances must end up with a stable romance. These are requirements of the genre, and dashing expectations dramatically can turn a book into a throwing book in a hurry.
Heck, I threw THE NO. 1 LADIES' DETECTIVE AGENCY book at one point (he switches p.o.v. from tight on the MC to the perspective of a young boy who's been abducted (or to his abductors - I don't recall) and I went batshit loco over that, because it was such a departure and betrayal of bond with the reader - meanwhile, scads of folks adore that novel, so clearly the issue is all mine).
At the end of the day, I think the consensus was that a) this was a lot of fun and b) a good ending is a satisfying ending, and what makes an ending satisfying is meeting reader expectations. How 'bout the rest of you - thoughts? theories? opinions? analyses?