You ever read a book and wonder how in the name of God’s most holy asshole it got published? I don’t mean the ones that you, personally, have a problem with; those are a dime a dozen and not every book is going to appeal to your taste. I mean the ones that are genuinely, deeply flawed. Not literary flawed, either, the kind that in the right light can sometimes be mistaken for artistic vision. I’m talking about the big problems: a character that disappears halfway through, a major plot point that’s never resolved, a sinkhole-style plot gap that opens under the rest of an otherwise acceptable book and sucks it down into the nether realm.
Or the ending. Somehow that’s the worst. It’s like a betrayal of all that time you spent on the rest of the goddamn book. You’ve got to stick the landing, folks. It’s not over until the covers are closed.
I distinctly remember being in bed with the Snowman when he finished a particular book. He turned the last page, read, blinked, and said, “What the hell was that?” In bewildered and increasingly irritated tones.
Probably not what the author was going for. *
You’ve read at least one. So have I. And while the initial urge might be to throw that book so hard that it leaves quite an impressive dent in the drywall**, I’m trying to wreak less havoc on the home lately. Hey, some places you can go full-on kaiju, like a daycare, and some you can’t.
So, in the interests of not having to go to Home Depot again this week, I present the following alternative:
Monday Challenge: Pick a book or story that didn’t end right and write the ending it should have had. According to you. If it’s really irredeemable, then ‘rocks fall, everybody dies’ might be your first instinct, but push through it. There was something that made you read that godawful word abortion to begin with. What was it? What promise was made that got you hooked? Then write what the resolution of that promise should have been.
Just like the Olympics, kittens***: you’ve got to stick the landing.
*Though you never can tell with some.
**Three points if you have to plaster it afterwards.
***Now I want the internet to provide me with Olympic Kittens. Or Kitten Olympics.
Reblogged this on jothclub.
Harry Potter should have ended with simultaneous death blows being dealt in such a way that several more people died. I could also rewrite the ending of The Golden Compass Trilogy as well.
Innumerable romcom light novels. The protagonist didn’t kiss the girl. The sixteen years old girl in me shrieked – every time. You don’t know a headache…
Don’t suppose the book that illicited that Snowman response would happen to be a saga written by an author with the initials S and K, would it?
It was not. It was a stand-alone (at the time) written by someone with the initials M.A.
The end of Atlas Shrugged really was when Dagny flies the plane into Colorado. She smashes into the side of the mountain, and we still don’t give a shit who John Galt is.
I bet it would still be considered a classic, though.
Classic? Absolutely. Liturgy for the Tea Party? Not anymore. 🙂