I’m a nut for endings. Hellos are easy. Goodbyes are hard.
In our previous blog, Jim illustrated the importance and types of leads. I couldn’t agree more. Unless people read, nothing happens.
But if they read – what happens next? That’s an important question for us in strategic communications: What do you want them to do after they read? And if first impressions are lasting, lasting impressions can point to new beginnings.
So: How do you conclude? What do you want them to do after they read? Leave them with that lasting impression.
To pick up Jim’s examples:
Leads:
They can be simple and declarative: Call me Ishmael (“Moby Dick,” Herman Melville).
They can offer great insight to come: I am an invisible man (“Invisible Man,” Ralph Ellison).
They can be playful and teasing: All this happened, more or less (“Slaughterhouse Five,” Kurt Vonnegut).
They can even get us all hot and bothered: Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins (“Lolita,” Vladimir Nabokov).
They can be intriguing: All children, except one, grow up.
Endings:
Endings are harder, because of the information, plot, analysis, understanding, and so forth that come between the lead and the ending:
Here are the endings to the leads presented above:
On the second day, a sail drew near, nearer, and picked me up at last. It was the devious-cruising Rachel, that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan. (Melville)
On the lower frequencies, I speak for you. (Ellison)
Birds were talking. One bird said to Billy Pilgrim, 'Poo-tee-weet? (Vonnegut)
I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita. (Nabokov)
When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter, who is to be Peter's mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless. (Barrie)
The simplicity, insight, and intrigue that Jim rightly points out as the wellsprings of drama in the leads can become complex, resigned, and ambiguous by the endings.
But in every case, the lead points, like a vector, to the ending.
So, in our more business-like writing, the point is that the lead predicts the change after the story.
• If you begin with conflict, end with resolution
• If you begin with a question, end with an answer
• If you begin with a problem, end with the solution
• If you begin with “then and now,” end with “next.”
And today, always end by inviting reader response.
Sure, we sit down to write full of hope, purpose and energy. So leads must be great. But by the time we get to the end, exhausted and under deadline, we forget to tell our readers what they should think, do, or feel.
Please send us your best last sentences.
I am still looking for my vocation. I admire people who can settle on just one thing.
As a non-degreed engineer I am t...
Comments (12)
Re: A recent purchase of 20,000 acres of forests for our family-owned wood products company.
“The more we can supply internally, the more stable our company is,” added (owner/son of founder). “This is the key to our ability to compete.”
Posted by Eileen B. | March 24, 2009 5:17 PM
Posted on March 24, 2009 17:17
Re: A recent purchase of 20,000 acres of forests for our family-owned wood products company.
“The more we can supply internally, the more stable our company is,” added (owner/son of founder). “This is the key to our ability to compete.”
Posted by Eileen B. | March 24, 2009 5:18 PM
Posted on March 24, 2009 17:18
Yes, Eileen. Too many stories simply stop. This one concludes.
Good work, especially considering your relative youth and lack of experience.
Posted by pat | March 24, 2009 7:11 PM
Posted on March 24, 2009 19:11
"Your relative youth" is scoring you points, but I'm not sure about "lack of experience."
Did you also notice that I have a sickness where I post my comments twice? Must see someone about that.
Posted by Eileen B. | March 25, 2009 4:40 AM
Posted on March 25, 2009 04:40
Pat,
How is this for ending with resolution?
"Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race."
Author anyone?
Posted by mark ragan | March 25, 2009 12:13 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 12:13
Bill's on the case, Mark.
But given what Lindsey Miller says she's reading on her profile on myragan.com, she'd know.
Posted by pat | March 25, 2009 3:30 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 15:30
James Joyce baby!
Posted by Eileen B. | March 25, 2009 4:13 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 16:13
A popular undergraduate read.
But how, Eileen, does the first sentence point to the last
Posted by pat | March 25, 2009 4:21 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 16:21
Got me, Pat. What was the first line?
Posted by Eileen B. | March 25, 2009 5:43 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 17:43
All of Western literature, Eileen, is about one thing, as the great Canadian critic Northrop Frye observed: the quest for identity. Who am I? Not an answer, just a question. "Who's there?" (first line of the greatest work of Western literature).
At the beginning of the "Portrait," the baby Joyce discerns a name, a father, a place, the first grasps at identity.
At the end - he takes responsibility for creating his identity - and that of his people.
Your name - Eileen. Irish?
Posted by pat | March 25, 2009 5:52 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 17:52
My grandma Maggie Daugherty is from Ireland, so year, a little bit.
And when I took the "which author are you" test on Facebook, my answer was James Joyce.
Posted by Eileen B. | March 25, 2009 6:07 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 18:07
Re: a professional meteorologist for the airlines. Story opened saying he is "not a professional liar..."
"You'll have about five hours of snow," he says to the station manager on the phone. "I expect it to be done about six thirty." He wasn't lying, fibbing, or event bending the truth. Snow starts to fall in D.C. after lunch. And as day turns into night, the snowfall ends shortly after he predicted.
Posted by Justin | March 31, 2009 7:31 PM
Posted on March 31, 2009 19:31