When to End a Story: No This Is Not Another Star Wars Rant……Yet

I am in no way qualified to offer writing advice to anyone, other than this very sporadic blog….and I’m working on that. Despite my lack of qualifications that is indeed what I am doing. When to end the story is as important as where and how to start it. (Perhaps a future post on those topics) A story needs a great end as much as a beginning. The end must satisfy the author and the audience. It should meet the promise put forth by the writer and live up to the reader’s expectation.


Well duh! Right? Yes, yet many fail in this regard or fail to deliver or even in certain cases deliver too much. This goes for novels, short stories, screen plays/movies, and a little known and important story telling device role playing games.

Look at some great examples of story endings: All three of the original Star Wars films New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi. Each ended on a note that wrapped up the current film and with the first two set up the events for the sequel.

New Hope ended with the destruction of the Death Star (the climax) and Darth Vader’s Tie-Fighter spinning off into the depths of space, the later letting the viewer know that this is only the first part of the tale. Then the award ceremony to have an epilogue that ends on a high note. Empire ends much more darkly, the rebellion set on its heels, Han Solo lost to the companions, and the huge reveal that Vader is Luke’s father. People could not wait for the last installment with Return of the Jedi, the tale was wrapped up, the villains defeated, and in the original theatrical version: The Yub Yub song. (Star Wars fans know what I am talking about.) What the three films accomplished so well that Lucas was hailed as genius was follow the heroic journey and express it so well to a wide eyed generation. Each ended with a strong climax and did not belabor the epilogue. We didn’t need to see Vader return to the Emperor after his defeat in New Hope. We did not need to see the adventures between Empire and Return that led to Han Solo’s rescue. Writers have filled in these blanks to adnauseam in comics, fan films, and novels. They allowed the viewer to leave the theater feeling satisfied, their own imaginations filling in those blanks, and each sequel paid off on the promise of the previous film. These movies fulfilled their obligation to viewer without, in my opinion, short changing them.

Robert E. Howard’s The Frost Giant’s Daughter depicted a young Conan of Cimmeria far from his race fighting among the Vanir and Aesir far to the north. After the battle he pursues a pale beauty across the ice fields, half-dream, half-mirage, yet wholly real to his dazzled senses. He battles her brothers, giants, and sons of Ymir, the northern god. Upon the defeat of the brutes he is rendered unconscious by what the reader perceives is the power of the god summoning his daughter away from the mortal realm and the grasping Cimmerian youth. He is found by his Aesir allies, and he learns that he did indeed chase the daughter of Ymir. The men brush the tale aside as a product of a ringing skull from a sword dent to the blinding and white and cold of the north. That is until the Cimmerian un-clutches his left hand revealing a gossamer cloth that had been the only garment of Atalia, the giant’s daughter.

This tale ends perfectly! The writer gives a brief epilogue to sum up the hero’s experience and then leaves the reader pondering with the bit of cloth in a warrior’s grip. Was it snow madness? Then where did the cloth come from? Again the reader is allowed to decide and let their own imagination take over.

Lovercraft’s stories all ended with that shock, that what if that made readers look askance at dark alleys and walk a little more quickly past a deserted house.

Pickman’s Model is a prime example. The tale is written in a first person style where the narrator is answering an unheard query from a companion, launching into a tale of macabre art. Pickman would paint demonic scenes with realistic backdrops or human models. The tale is the set up for the punch line. The narrator explains how Pickman is of old Salem stock, claiming an ancestor burned as a witch. Pickman’s ostracization from the art community at large for his disturbing imagery. The story weaves around the themes of the art, the models used, the backdrop settings. The reader has a dawning horror of what is to come so when the reveal is made, one is horrified because their fears are realized with the ending. The subjects of the work, the horrific models, were not fever dream imaginings of Pickman, but rather as the narrator states: “It was a photograph from life!”

Now let us take the tales that failed and why: for films one of the greatest examples is the first Back to the Future film. With the “To Be Continued…..” tag at the end had viewers chomping at the bit for the sequel. As my friend commented when we saw this film in theaters: “They better make another one!” So in an attempt to satisfy the viewers and make more money, the downfall of all sequels, the second film came out and disappointed. Fortunately the franchise was saved by a great ending to the trilogy. This is an example of where to stop the story. What if they had not followed though with a sequel? Would viewers rather been satisfied with a great ride the first time round and not sitting through the disappointing, almost repetitive, second film?

Novels that fall into the trap of epilogues that offer too much information are Dennis L. McKiernan’s Tolkeinesque series of fantasy adventures, that I started reading with the Iron Tower trilogy. This series, while great story telling in the Tolkien high fantasy style, end poorly, at least to me. The epilogues tend to tell of the fates of each hero after the tale ended. Some ended as ignobly as many real life heroes. Which does lend the stories that air of reality, but destroys the reader’s imaginative speculation of the story that continues after the book ends.

Without pointing to specific series’, how many writers that are constant bestsellers, are writing sequels for their popular worlds/characters that need to retire them? How many really have nothing new to say, the adventures stale, or driven by corporate merchandising?

Here is where the story telling device of Role Playing comes into the conversation. I myself have fallen into this trap. In order to continue a game that has obviously wrapped up, because, frankly, the game was one of the best ever! (Which many role play groups have at least one of) I created a weak sequel that lost steam quickly and was flat when compared to the magic of the first series of adventures. The same goes for the idea of dusting off the old character sheet and “getting the band back together”, in this case the adventuring band back together. I have found that when those great moments of collective story telling take place, be content with them and relive them as remember when…… lightning hardly ever strikes twice.

Now how do these mini-reviews relate to knowing when to end the story? They offer the formula for do’s and don’ts. The best thing is to end the story where it ends. Simple enough, yes? No. Because of the pursuit of more money, or a greater word count, this one simple rule is ignored. The Matrix and the aforementioned Back to the Future fall into this trap, even Conan the Destroyer, so pale when compared to the operatic Barbarian film, pursued the franchise cash cow, rather than ending the story well. (Setting aside all Howardian complaints of both films.)

End the story where it ends. Do not attempt a sequel or several more chapters unless they offer something as strong as, or in the case of The Empire Strikes Back, something stronger than what preceded it.

To end a tale generally has to be a gut reaction. As a writer one must be objective enough to sit back and say, “Am I done?” If the tale is finished, is it a satisfying ending? This too can be a gut reaction, but first readers, honest first readers, help here. This is where the thick skin comes in. A first reader has to be able to tell the writer who is in love with the story: “You should have ended it three paragraphs back.” Or harshly: “This sucks!” Of course this needs to be followed by the why.

Now, those that are fortunate enough to have the combination of luck, skill, timing, and perseverance to become published writers of novels have the dreaded problem of “trilogy” or “series” when they are really lucky. This leads to the weak sequel, it happens with movies, music, and of course novels. The artist is giddy from the initial acceptance, the idea of a paycheck, and adoring fans. Those fans might not be so adoring if you let them down in the second act. Be prepared with a strong second act, or don’t offer one. Think of all the sophomore efforts that are spoken of in various art industries. Critics salivate for sequels.

Now that I have long since rambled beyond the point of where I should have ended this essay, let me conclude by saying look closely at your themes, what do you want to say? What will punctuate your message or simply grab the audience’s emotions, leaving them pondering or wishing for more? That is where to end the story.

Prince of Persia: The Trouble with Time Travel

Recently I caught Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time and it has just hit video. The movie stars Jake Gyllenhall in the title role Gemma Arterton as the love interest, and Ben Kingsley as the villain. I guess now is the time for the warning that this will be a spoiler heavy post. So those of you that have not seen this film stop reading now………

Prince of Persia is set in a fantasy version of said empire, nothing historical need be noted. Frankly, I am just fine with this, I wanted to see a pulpy, swash and buckle adventure and I got one, with Arabian Nights trappings and plenty of pulpy goodness.

The basic plot is that the Persian king has three sons. Two are his natural children, the eldest destined for the throne, the second, captain of the cavalry, and the third, adopted from the streets is a rogue. The hero of the film and leader of the king’s special forces.

The vizier, played by Kingsley, convinces the brothers that they should attack a holy city that is seemingly running weapons for Persia’s enemies. The hero prince, through high flying swashbuckler daring, takes the gates and lets his brothers rush in to take the city. During the fighting he takes down an escaping warrior and obtains a glass hilted dagger that is a potent magical weapon, because within the glass are the Sands of Time. The sands allow the wielder to step back in time by a minute to correct a mistake, or avoid a killing strike.

Kingsly’s character manipulated the attack to gain possession the dagger and, the actual source of the power, to place himself on the throne.

Despite the sheer predictability of the story, which is actually the focus of this post, I just want to say that I really enjoyed it just the same. The adventure itself was a fun ride, the characters well done, the villains even more so. The use of, and look of the Hashishins (assassins) was very pulp sword a sorcery, and very cool. Of course the special effects were what is expected from Hollywood now. Despite any nit picky complaints, it is a fun movie that I will add to my collection.

In Prince of Persia, the hero is able to step back a minute and correct his mistakes, or change the course of events. The films follows the course where everyone dies, the brothers, the father, the love interest, and even helpful sidekicks all the way through are dying off. These characters dying, their sacrifices, created tension for the hero, but not for me, because the whole time I knew that the hero would turn back the clock to a certain point and none of it would have happened.

The actual idea of this post is the nature of time travel in movies and fiction in general. It always sounds so cool, but is nearly impossible to execute because of the paradoxes and the idea of “do overs”.

This is the biggest flaw in trying to create a time travel adventure. The hero can always fix his mistakes. As a matter of course it is actually the main thrust of such adventures from Back to the Future to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. The tension and story come from the hero trying to correct those mistakes or set things right, but in the end we know they will. Outside of failing in the middle of the adventure, which no writer if it be screen plays, scripts, or fiction, would do.

Some films have pulled off the time travel adventure by stepping out of the norm for such stories, and a very few have actually pulled off some surprises. The two above used humor to tell the time travel story, Bill and Ted was over the top with the guys taking mental notes on going back in time to set up events to help them in the present, which of course worked….mostly. The first of Michael J. Fox’s movies did this well with the “my own grandpa” kind of shtick. Few actually seem to hold many surprises though.

The Terminator series took a slightly different tack, thank you Harlan Ellison. The first did well with the time travel elements of Reese being Conner’s father, because even the viewer knew he was going to die, the tension in the film actually came from that knowledge. The rest fell into a cycle of sending the next new and improved model after Conner. I imagined Sky Net sitting in Mordor (oops) saying “Did it change yet? Damn! Send another one!” Again, I imagine: why not send Arnold back with a dirty nuke in his guts and BOOM! Sky Net wins!

So what is the purpose of this post? Not much other than pointing out the pit falls of the time travel genre. I will turn off my logic engine and put in Time Rider followed by Time Line and if I have time, another viewing of the sword and sorcery fantasy Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. I will follow the axiom on the subject from South Park: The rules for time travel are just silly.

Never Tell the Villain's Back-Story! Or How George Lucas Really Ruined Star Wars!

All my friends know my feelings about the destruction of my childhood by the release Star Wars: The Prequel Trilogy and the ruination of the original through Special Editions. Now, like most of the boys of my generation Star Wars: A New Hope was IT! Star Wars for us was the greatest movie ever. It was the story; the Hero Journey so well defined by Joseph Cambell: the archetypes of the Wizard, the Rogue, the Hero, and most importantly the Villain.


I contend the most important character in a story, whether it is a novel or a movie, is the villain. Without a great villain the hero becomes hollow. Without a strong antagonist, even if it is the very environment, a hero's journey is worthless. What would have Star Wars have been without Darth Vader?

Darth Vader was a villain for the ages. A survey once was done to decide the greatest cinematic villains of all time, Darth Vader was number two, Hannibal Lecter was number one. The sweeping black cloak, the eerie respiration, the expressionless face of a demon, and his power over the Force made him one of the greatest fantasy villains ever created. David Prowse created the physical presence while Bob Anderson provided the fencing finesse for The Empire Strikes Back. Of course by the end of the original trilogy we discover that Darth Vader was once Anakin Skywalker and father to Luke, the hero. This is where the back-story should have ended. Anakin's fall, and transformation into Darth Vader should have been left to the speculation of fans.

The draw of money and fan adoration pushed George Lucas to "complete" the story. He wanted to tell the fall of Anakin Skywalker and the rise of Darth Vader. By doing so he destroyed one of the most iconic villains ever created.

Let us set aside my personal assertions that special effects are not needed to make a good movie. Let us instead look at story and reader/viewer expectation.

When the prequels (1999-2005) were released the fans rushed to see how Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader. What the fans got was a whiny emo boy-band drop out played by Hayden Christensen. Now Kevin Smith, actor and film maker, said that of course someone like the character portrayed would become someone like Darth Vader. That might be so, but that is not what fans wanted to see, that is not the way it should have happened in their opinion. That is the point. Darth Vader was larger than life to the Nth degree, he was ten kinds of cool as a villain. The fans did not want to see a spoiled kid being pissy because he did not get to sit on the Jedi Council. This is the reason why the villain back-story failed. It was not as cool as the villain himself. It did not measure up to reader/viewer expectation.

As a writer I am very conscious of my villains, I do not want them to be so powerful so they overshadow and could crush the hero before the hero is ready to face them. That is why powerful villains have minions. These are the guys the hero goes through before they get to the boss. Frodo had a slew of orcs to get through before he dropped the One Ring into Mount Doom. This is why Darth Vader works; in the original trilogy Luke and crew are plagued by Storm Troopers, snooty Imperial officers, and bad ass bounty hunters. When Vader is on the scene the shite has hit the turbine. Vader rains all kinds of hell down on the rebels. He blows up planets for breakfast, and when Luke foolishly faces him before he is ready, he is crushed; escaping, but not unscathed, mentally or physically.

If I tell the villain's back-story it has to be in direct relation to the story I am telling. It also has to fit with what I have established for the character, staying true to who the villain is. If my villain is a coward and a scoundrel, then he was likely one before. If my villain was a noble knight who fell from grace there MUST be an event as epic as the fall. If there is a back-story it had better be equal to the villain it represents.

With the prequels Lucas and his sycophants forgot story and stuck with formula and special effects. He tried to parallel the two trilogies instead of writing them as their own stories that were connected through family ties. The character of Anakin Skywalker needed to be as dynamic and awe inspiring as the villain in black he would become. Instead we are handed a man-child who somehow earns the love and devotion of a queen? With the personality presented there is nothing to recommend Anakin as a man earning the love of such a woman as Padme' nor the love and respect of a Jedi like Obi-Wan who saw him as a brother.

Anakin should have been a great man, strong emotionally as well as charismatic. Even as a youth these qualities should have been evident. His fears should have been private, his love, not the mewling of a puppy, but bold and confident. His anger, a glimmer of which was seen when he destroyed the Tuskan village in Attack of the Clones, should have shook the heavens and made the gods quell. The Jedi Council should have FEARED the power that Anakin could wield, not just made cautious. Obi-Wan should have noted the darkness growing in his friend. One does not need the Force to see when loved ones are changing or in trouble. So the fact the Sith conveniently clouded the judgment of the Jedi should not have affected Obi-Wan's instincts.

There are a thousand little things that resulted in the failure of the prequels to many fans. The failure of Darth Vader to be fully realized as the hero before the villain can be endlessly nit-picked as well. The reasons can be attributed to poor direction, wooden acting, and the shear task of trying to fill the armor of such an icon. To me the story did not measure up. The actor was not up to the task. By comparison look at Ewan McGregor playing Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had the mannerisms of the Ben Kenobi as portrayed by Sir Alec Guiness. His performance seemed to please most fans, me included. Hayden Christensen worked hard on the physical aspects of Anakin's fighting skill, but he failed to study the mannerisms of Darth Vader provided by David Prowse. Prowse was conscious of the image he was creating and moved and stood in such a way as to present that character. One of the iconic poses of Darth Vader was the thumbs hooked in his belt, or arms akimbo, his head thrown back, held high, imperiously. All Hayden Christensen seemed to be able to do was cross his arms as if shutting himself in, drawing into himself, instead of standing tall and boldly. Prowse made a point of striding, causing the black cloak to billow behind him, forcing subordinates to trot to keep up. Christensen seems to almost meander when he moved, creating little dynamic energy.

I have stated on many occasions that special effects and flash leave me indifferent, it is the story I crave. When the credits rolled on Revenge of the Sith I simply shrugged and walked out, thinking that I had wasted the eight bucks I spent. Not a reaction that an author wants when a reader closes his book, and not a reaction that a director/script writer/producer, wants when the credits roll on his movie.

The author may feel that his creation is his own, his vision the only one that matters, but when such things are given to others, it becomes a shared thing, a living thing. Becoming greater than what the creator intended. It becomes a sacred trust to others rather than a creative diversion to ones' self.