1. A Bit of Hard-Earned Writing Advice

I am a writer, and not just of books with my name on the cover. I’m a co-writer and editor, the kind of pen-wielder who helps authors and publishers breathe life into their books.

Several years ago, I labored on a handful of books, each which had a clear beginning (with rising tension), a clear middle (with harrowing climax), but no clear ending. And so, in each instance, we created aspirational endings, endings which attempted to project some future resolution (some future business, some future geographic relocation, some future non-profit, whatever). These books left me unsatisfied, and it’s only now that I see why: Literature, like life, demands resolution, a satisfactory conclusion marked with a final period and followed by plenty of white space. So, if you’re a writer, hold off on publishing stories until you’re satisfied with the white space following The End.

2. Marcus Aurelius and the Power of Examination

This weekend, I read portions of Marcus Aurelius Meditations. There, I stumbled across this passage: “Nothing is so conducive to greatness of mind as the ability to subject each element of our experience in life to methodical and truthful examination…”

Examining my writing experiences truthfully led me to examine my dissatisfaction with the books mentioned above. Those stories ended in limbo or, in a very Catholic sense, purgatory. As emotional creatures, creatures who need our villains punished (often to death) and our heroes rewarded (or occasionally tortured), we want stories ending in heaven (comedy) or hell (tragedy). Anything less is lukewarm at best, and we all know what the holy books say about lukewarm endings.

3. True Masters Understand the Need for Closure

There are exceptions to every universal rule, even writing rules. But the grand masters of both literature and life write toward clear resolution. (Even Marcus Aurelius.) Why? Because writers, as observers of humanity, understand the universal human need for closure. Completion. The end of all things.

The end.