Trivia quiz.
Don Quixote…what happens to him at the end of the novel?
Oliver Twist…how is Oliver reunited with his birth mother? Why were they separated?
Catch 22…what happens to John Yossarian at the end of the novel? Does he finally get out of the army?
No cheating.
If you remember the endings of all three of these seminal works of literature, I’m impressed. (Are you a literature professor?) More likely, you remember things from the middles of those novels. Don Quixote tilting at windmills. Oliver’s apprenticeship as a pickpocket with the Artful Dodger and Fagin. Yossarian learning the meaning of Catch 22: if you want to be diagnosed as insane in order to avoid combat, it only proves that you are sane.
So, what actually happens in the endings in our quiz? Don Quixote, you may remember, was driven nuts by reading chivalric romances. In the end he recovers his sanity and apologies to all whom he hurt. Oliver Twist—trick question, sorry—is not reunited with his birth mother. She’s dead. He is instead adopted by kindly Mr. Brownlow, whose handkerchief was stolen by the Artful Dodger.
Yossarian—also a trick question, sort of—was not exactly in the army. At the end of the novel he is still in the 256th Army Air Squadron, but he decides to go AWOL, following his squad-mate Orr, whom he believed dead, to Sweden. If you thought that Yossarian was in the army, you—like many—may have conflated Catch 22 with the TV show M.A.S.H., which was not, as is sometimes supposed, based on the novel Catch 22 but rather on the 1968 novel MASH by Richard Hooker.
If you flunked today’s quiz, don’t feel bad. Many endings are not well remembered. Dorothy returning to Kansas and Scarlett O’Hara embracing her legacy, Tara, are among the exceptions. But if endings are often not well remembered, that is my point. We do not remember success as much as struggle. A miracle at the end doesn’t stick with us as much as the agony in the middle.
Endings can satisfy, in other words, but we are most deeply engaged by how that satisfaction is earned. Endings can thrill, too, but that thrill depends on the disasters and dread that precede it. Endings can be happy, sweet or even weepy, but that won’t happen if we do not first fear that happiness is impossible or hope that something wonderful will never go away.
Thus, the impact of your ending derives from what you create in the middle, things like impossible struggles, iconic actions, great secondary characters (good and bad), moral and emotional agony, failure, hope and meaning. To cheer we must first despair. To weep we must first know joy. The effect is all in the set up.
Let’s take a look at the symbiotic relationship of endings to middles.
Setting Up the Ending in the Middle
What do you want your ending to do? Cause us to cheer? Make us weep? Affirm our values? Challenge our beliefs? Capture the human condition? Celebrate the exquisite joy and pain of human existence?
If you’re aiming for an exciting and triumphant ending, start with the grand action your protagonist must perform at the end. Let’s call it The Feat. Now work backwards. What makes that feat fearful? How do we discover that it is impossible? What is the deadline and how does the clock tick down the remaining time?
More: At what location must The Feat be performed? What is the antagonist’s contrasting objective? What is the picture of success or the symbol of victory? Who has faith in your protagonist? Who is counting on success? Who wants your protagonist to fail? Who has the means to ensure that? What is your protagonist’s weakness, flaw or paralyzing fear? What obstacle is insurmountable? What event spells disaster? What is the irrevocable sign of defeat?
Next: How does The Feat becomes impossible? How is an obstacle too great? When does time run out? Why is the destination unable to be reached? How does the antagonist achieve success? How are the faithful disappointed? How is what is hoped for lost? How does the flaw, weakness or fear defeat your protagonist? How is the picture of success ruined, or the symbol of success handed to someone else? How can those things happen in your story?
Then: Time passes. The situation turns around. Something has been overlooked. Your antagonist’s plan has a flaw. Your protagonist receives fresh insight or inspiration. Your protagonist’s flaw is corrected, his weakness is overcome, her fear is defeated with courage. The faithful are energized and rise up in support. How can those things happen in your story?
The Ending: A way to win is discovered, victory is achieved, happiness is found, there is satisfaction with what must be, or peace is made with what is wrong. How does that happen in your story?
Antagonist’s Role in Timeless Endings
Another element in making timeless endings can be iconic antagonists. Antagonists become iconic when they represent a fundamental human weakness, vice, shortcoming or sin. What singular evil does your antagonist embody?
More: What event made him or her so corrupt, twisted or broken? What opportunity to change for the better is thwarted or rejected? What rewards does perfidy bring? Who reveres the antagonist and embraces his or her values? Why does your protagonist embody everything that your antagonist hates? What advantage, ability or superpower does your antagonist have? How is that the very worst thing your protagonist could face?
Next: How and when does your antagonist win? Actually win. How is your antagonist’s plan flawless? How is every possible glitch covered? If your antagonist is a villain, how is he or she is triumphant? If an enemy, how does he or she prevail? If a cheater or criminal, how does your antagonist get away with it or simply get away? If a monster, what does the monster successfully destroy?
Variations: If a love interest (a resistant antagonist), how does he or she walk away? If a mentor (a teaching antagonist), when does he or she give up? If a savior (antagonist as hope), make it so that the savior doesn’t arrive, doesn’t come through, dies or disappoints.
The Ending: Your protagonist turns it around. Your antagonist’s flaw, weakness, or hubris creates an opening. Cheating or deception is exposed. Proof is demonstrated and the truth is revealed. The antagonist’s last gambit fails. Defeat is ignominious and final. Your protagonist is redeemed and restored. How can that happen in your story?
Endings Anchored in Actions, Dilemmas, Desires, Hope, Meaning
Great endings also can spring from earlier actions, or grow out of dilemmas, desires, hope and/or the quest for meaning.
Actions: What’s your protagonist’s central, most significant task, puzzle, duty, quest or want? Boil it down. What is the one act or moment that would represent success? Elevate that action or that date. Give it a name. Endow it with a prestige and/or terror. Pack it with a significance that everyone in the story understands. Make the task a public one. If there is a puzzle, make its solution simple but elusive. If it’s a duty, performing it will entail sacrificing—what? If a quest, what lesson is needed to complete it? If a want, what’s the greatest sacrifice required to get it? Build those in. Bring to a head. Force your protagonist to act.
Dilemmas: Whatever your protagonist wants, transform that into a choice. What could your protagonist get instead of equal value? What is a terrible outcome either way? Whatever the choice—A or B, good or bad, two rights or two wrongs—heighten the value or cost of each. What would make the choice agonizing? Finally, force the choice. Make its consequences cut and count.
Desires and Hopes: What, or whom, does your protagonist desire? For what does your protagonist hope? What will your protagonist need to give up to get that desire? What disappointment hits when the hope is crushed? Does your protagonist desire the wrong thing? If your protagonist hoping for more than is possible? Fulfill the desire—or not. Satisfy the hope—or not. Desire is dangerous and hope is full of peril. However it goes, don’t let it go easily.
Meaning: What does your protagonist believe in? What meaning is your protagonist searching for? Undermine the belief. Make meaning elusive. To affirm a faith or find a firm truth will require a great—what? Knowledge is hard won. Wisdom is born of experience. Deal your protagonist a tough hand. Meaning must be earned, otherwise it doesn’t mean much.
As you can see, endings may be happy but that happiness is proportionate to the anguish, longing and peril that you generate first. Resolutions are necessary but aren’t satisfying unless they are difficult to get. It’s fine to make a point, but better when it takes effort to hone it. Gain follows loss. Success is pale without struggle.
Okay, you get my point. Timeless endings are all in how you set them up—in the middle.
What kind of ending are you shooting for? How are you preparing the way in the middle?
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About Donald Maass
Donald Maass (he/him) is president of the Donald Maass Literary Agency. He has written several highly acclaimed craft books for novelists including The Breakout Novelist, The Fire in Fiction, Writing the Breakout Novel and The Career Novelist.
“Meaning must be earned, otherwise it doesn’t mean much.” A writer’s mantra! The ending I remember most vividly in a novel is from Tolkien’s LOTR, in which Sam, an ordinary hobbit, transformed by all he’s gone through, returns to his ordinary life, which for me, made him all the more extraordinary. I find this kind of circle-which-is-really-a-spiral very satisfying. The protagonist (one of them, in this case) returns home, but the reader knows how deeply he’s changed. This kind of ending makes think about the character long after I’ve closed the book. How will he live now? What will he teach his children? Will he wonder about things that could have been? I’ve been let down by a few endings lately. After reading your post, I feel more clear as to why, and more hopeful that I can avoid doing the same! Thanks, Don. You always start my day with a good jolt!
You’re welcome. Yes, the “return home”, circling back but changed, is a durable and satisfying ending. Dorothy returning to Kansas.
The same satisfaction, I think, can be achieved with riding off into the sunset. The wonderful ending of “The Far Pavilions” has stayed with me for decades.
Great post as usual, Donald. I have your book, Writing 21st Century Fiction and it’s a wonderful resource. In my last novel, I had to go back into my manuscript and raise the emotional stakes, reveal what my protagonist was going through at a much deeper level, both in her thoughts and feelings. It’s paid off. Thanks.
Great! So glad to hear that.
I think I now understand why the endings I usually begin with end up changing as I write the book. :)
Awesome thinking questions as always! Thank you!
Terrific, thanks and you’re welcome.
“Timeless endings are all in how you set them up—in the middle.”
Great post, as always, Don. I recently read an ending that literally took my breath away. The ending of Lily King’s Euphoria was so touching, so heartrending. . . and yet possible only because of how it had been set up. For now, it is my gold standard for endings.
Hope you and your family are well, Don!
Oh, right! The novel about the three archaeologists…I noted it back in 2014 but forgot. I’ve bookmarked that now for purchase. Thanks!
“As they go in, I pause outside the door before I join them. I look up, into the bright blue air. I think I see four figures with wings, and their winged dogs, swooping and playing in the rivers of light. They will always be there, as long as magic lives.
And magic has a strong, strong heart.” -Boy’s Life by Robert McCammon
Thanks for the post Don.
Boy’s Life is indeed magical, thanks for shouting it out.
Flunked the quiz.
Loved the column.
Thank you, again and always, for the insights and exercises.
Perfectly timed as I am writing The Ending of my novel. (Target completion: May 2021.)
May 2021??? Augh. I’ll be patient.
Some images come to mind as I read your post. Painting shadow and light with words. A serpent eating his own tail.
How do I figure the middle, without knowing the ending? How do I figure the desires and the dilemmas that drive events without figuring the characters? I can’t. It’s writing in cycles, the serpent eating his tail. And for every plot layer, it all repeats.
Thanks for the post. This is one to print out and keep with your books that I refer to constantly.
The ending reveals the middle. The middle prepares the end. The writer’s tool to discover any of that is the first draft, ask me.
More to the point, I’ve been wondering why The Middle was so much easier for me to plot than The Ending. Possible answer: The Middle is full of conflict and excitement while the Ending is about The Feat, yes, but it’s also the resolution and…the end. (And as the author, I don’t want it to end!) Why is Dorothy’s return to Kansas so much of an exception to The Endings that we don’t remember? I agree that it is. Wondering what specifically makes it so?
Dorothy’s longing for home is fulfilled. She had to past tests to get there. She needed the help of three friends, each representing a quality she needs. The solution, in the end, is simple…so simple it’s obvious, but only once you’ve grown. (“Just click your heels three times…”)
The Wizard of Oz uses a number of timeless story elements…and the number “three” is among them.
“The solution, in the end, is simple…so simple it’s obvious, but only once you’ve grown.” Aha. I think I get it. That is the ending I’m shooting for.
“Antagonists become iconic when they represent a fundamental human weakness.” This statement in your post really stood out for me. I have always been drawn to novels that meet me where I live. I chose two careers that required hard work and exposing myself to mistakes, possible failure, and often rebukes. Thus when I chose to write my first novel, I read psychology books to understand how a damaged child could and would become a damaged adult. As the antagonist in my novel, her human weakness can be pitied and abhorred at the same time. Once again, you inspire me to go the distance. Thanks.
Weak characters need to find their strength. When they do so, that’s good…but it’s all the better when the weakness has won several times, when the strength is gained through tests, and when a lesson must first be learned.
I love a good love story with its happy ending, but it’s the heart-rending endings that remain with me. Jodi Piccoult’s My Sister’s Keeper; Abraham Verghese’s Cutting from Stone; and the classic Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Anderson. I don’t remember crying as a child reading Match Girl because I identified with the little girl. Oh to entering heaven in a blaze of glory! But reading it to my children, I was the one with tears.
This is very helpful for my wip–I need to have more foreboding in my middle so that when the fall comes at the end, we can say, see, I knew it. Thanks Don. As always, I learn something good here.
Hi, Don:
I can no longer remember whether it was John Truby or Robert McKee who said this, but whoever it was he made the point that whatever the emotional takeaway of your ending, you need to set it up with its polar opposite at the end of Act II, to create the dramatic emotional swing that the reader/audience will feel in their bones.
Now, this can get formulaic, so that the astute reader can sense when Act II ends on a downer that everything is going to turn out okay, and vice versa, so as a rule it requires some flexibility. I’d add that if the final act is a gauntlet of reveals and reversals, you can create the emotional swing just about anywhere in the final quarter of the book — and not just once. But this echoes nicely with your cues on how to set up your ending in the middle of the story.
As always, great post. Copied for further reading and study. Hope you and your loved ones are safe & healthy.
Is there a bobble-head Donald Maass doll out there somewhere for purchase? Seriously, I need you on my desk, staring at me while I write.
And if the mini-you could be holding a big question mark out from your chest like a toddler with a bowl when it is snowing those tiny compressed snowballs that sting when they hit your face. Okay, okay, maybe I simply need frozen question marks to pelt me in the face while I am writing.
Because YOU ASK THE BEST QUESTIONS. Always.
Thank you for setting my creative muse spinning this evening.
In the best of ways.
I will now be grabbing a Post-it to sketch a stick figure Donald Maass holding a question mark and it will be stuck to the outer edge of my laptop. Reread all of your books ;) And then, I will head back into my Thriller to answer some more of your questions and absolutely F#^% with my character’s lives. Yeeeehaw!
Cheers!