Endings: Happily Ever After...Or Not?

I've had lots of alternate endings for one of my romance WIPs.  It's the story "Ghost of a Promise" and, as you might imagine, achieving this"happily ever after" in the ending of a ghost story has been a challenge.   At times, even I have been a bit clueless as to how it was all going to work out.   I even wondered if, *whisper* maybe I wasn't writing a romance after all.  Because, really, how could it be a romance without the guaranteed happy ending? 

But of course, love them or hate them, romances, in the broader sense of movies and classical literature, have not always had happy endings.  And if tragedy seemed a more logical ending for this love story, maybe there were some strengths or benefits of tragedy to consider.  (At least until I figured my way out of this mess, that is!)

So, if you ever find yourself in this dilemma, here are my ideas of some benefits of tragedy:

1. Tragedy is, above all, memorable. Movies such as "Somersby," "Ghost" (of course!), "The Time Traveler's Wife" or "Gone with the Wind," etc, all have the loss of a hero or at least an unresolved  ending.  But in tragedy they linger in our thoughts. Tragic endings invite us to spend time making up 'what ifs' or reconciling a tragedy by imagining if only that one step had been different. We would even change history or cheat death if we could.  Above all, we don't forget when we reinvent.

2. In tragic endings, there is immortality and a sense of loyalty to "one great love."  In a sense, time stands still after a tragedy. The continuation of the heroine's life after a loss of a hero (although she is still young) is not imagined in a forward sense.  And, although we might imagine changing the events leading up to the ending, once the tragedy has occurred, we don't replace the hero or imagine the heroine with a second chance at love and happiness.  A new man in her life? Heaven forbid! That would be disloyal.

For example, even in the movie "Titanic," Rose has a long life that takes place in the years between the loss of Jack, her true love, and the last dreamlike scene of their reunion in death on the ship's staircase. It's actually a contrived happy ending to reunite Rose and Jack. The audience feels happy (so did I), and forgets what would be a real tragedy (other than the sinking of the ship!); this being  if Rose's only true happiness in a lifetime consisted of just a few days. Instead, what happens in between we don't think about.  We can't.  Tragedy immortalizes the hero and the romance.

3. In some cases, happiness isn't logical.  Tragedy, if not exactly easy, is logical. Bad things happen and, in the real world, ships sink.  Even in a paranormal romance, there are boundaries of logic.  Happiness has to to fit. The happy ending is all about conviction - - an absolute believability in the continuity of the relationship between the hero and the heroine. A love without end.

Seems like a tall order. 

This is a challenge of writing romance, and I don't think it's limited to ghost stories.  For instance, I've often wondered if writers (other than me!) have written themselves into a corner with their "black moments."  After all we work so hard to develop conflict, building on the premise that when things are bad, make them worse, that it might not be so easy to put the brakes on a train wreck in progress. We might do our job so well that the black moment in the story can seem like The End instead of a transition to that final resolution and reward of happiness.

But romance writers figure it out.  The characters and the reader gets a happy ending.  Thank goodness.

And I still wanted a happy ending for my ghost story.

So, while tragedy has its place, I've continued to tweak the right alternate endings for my my story.  Quite often, I've gone back to the thought I'd written myself into a corner -- and a "tragic" corner it was! Every attempt to turn it around to "happily-ever-after" seemed contrived.  But like the  die-hard "if only" fan of happy endings that I am, I persisted in my search of a happy ending, even if persistence meant leaving the story alone for a while.

Oddly enough, I found some missing pieces for this "happy ending" dilemma while working on a different story, which is a sequel.  Now, I do see a glimmer of the bright and shiny happily ever after for this particular story.  However, it's not so much the "tag-on" alternate ending I seemed to be searching for to set everything to rights.  Instead, some clues of "unlikely, but possible" are finding their way in earlier in the plot. 

So, if there's one thing I've learned about turning around a tragic ending to become a happy ending, it is that it's a bit like crafting a "who-done-it" mystery.  If all along you've pointed the finger at the butler, the big reveal that it isn't the butler can either be a satisfying surprise or feel out of place.  My big light bulb moment is that the only way to make a happy ending seem less contrived is to look for where to insert a few "clues" along the way.

Of course, this is one of those writing tips that won't help at all knowing up front.  These "clues" weren't possible while I didn't have the solution.  I do wish someone had told me my ending earlier! *sigh*

Sometimes, it's quite a layering process to make a happily ever!  But we'll keep on doing it because the "if only" of tragedy might keep calling on us for a few changes...

Any movies or books with tragic endings you've rewritten in your head to end happily? Any movies or books where you've thought the ending contrived for a happily ever after? Ever write yourself into a corner with your black moment...or even your entire story premise?

A New Year of Writing Decisions

Happy New Year!  Here's to a wonderful year of  rewards. I hope this is the year we cross the finish line with our writing goals and get that medal. Or maybe several medals. Maybe this is our Olympic year. 

Or maybe it will be next year. 

Oops.  Did I hear a screech like an old record makes when the music is interrupted?  Sorry!  I didn't mean to make the music stop, but I just want to put out there that it's OKAY if our Olympic events aren't right around the corner.  We're working on it.  After all, the athletic Olympics only come around every four years so maybe we're still deep in training.  (Well, every two years of alternating winter and summer games, but you know what I mean.) 

This is why I don't like to make resolutions that seem to say we start the race on January 1 with no consideration for the training,  habits or practices of the past.  These resolutions assume that somehow we will know how to fly because we've changed from a caterpillar into a butterfly.  We forget that even this does not happen overnight.  Or that a newly emerged butterfly has fragile wings. 

And maybe our characters are also like these changing creatures.  We're like coaches/choreographers to a team of caterpillars and newborn butterflies dreaming of competing in the Butterfly Olympics. It's our job to get them there...

We start by building our team around two star players.  Long before this pair gets their wings, they will have brought with them an entourage of characters/caterpillars for our team.  Relatives, friends and co-workers all get in with a good word from the stars.  And sometimes villains and new players come to us from parts unknown.  Some make the team and sometimes we have to cut a player or put him or her on the sidelines.  Maybe their turns will come. 

And during all the tough days of training we make decisions and search out the best advice for our team.  We consult with experts and voraciously read their how-to manuals.   We try to emulate the starring teams from the last Olympics.  We might have exhibition matches for feedback and tally up the judge's scores. 

We try to do all the right things for preparing our Olympic team but at some point there still will be a string of dark days in the training.  We might even miss the scheduled Butterfly Olympics we put down in red ink on the calendar.  Some of the caterpillars refused to metamorphose into butterflies and the ones that did are out there fluttering around flowers and teasing cats.  We think nothing can salvage this group or bring them together.

How can this be?  It isn't as if you don't have a lot of advisers.  Only it seems like for every expert brought in to say one thing there is another who says the opposite.  For every judge or critique group reader that says one thing there will be another who says the opposite.  Everyone has an opinion on which direction to go until you, the poor coach/choreographer, don't know which way to turn. 

Who do you listen to?  Who are you to decide on a game plan when surrounded by experts more experienced than you in Butterfly Olympics?  Never mind that they've frightened away the butterflies.

Maybe if you sit still long enough one of your butterflies will land on your finger.

She trusts you. 

Only you are allowed to know which direction she wants to fly.  And one by one, the rest of the butterflies will be drawn to you too. 

Before you know it, the team is anxious for your advice and hovering close by for the next idea.  They want to be a part of the Butterfly Olympics.

***   ***   ***

This year I'm thanking my advisers, but putting them "on call."  I respect them and know I'll need them again but I will be careful not to let them frighten off the butterflies.  I know my decisions are right when the butterflies land.

Thanks for joining me for another year and best of luck to you and your team of butterflies!