Start at the End

Writing a story of any length, and I write a lot of short stories and novelettes, or writing these ‘Blogs’ that average out at something less than a thousand words each, has, at its core, a similar problem.

We can, all of us, start a ‘Blog’ or story with ease but the trick is to end it.

Wars are the same. It is very easy for a government to get into a war but the difficult part is deciding when it is over. When is it won? How do we get out?

I view taking drugs with a similar mindset. Everyone starts out taking recreational drugs with the idea that it is harmless fun. There can be no damage done since we can, after all, control it. We are the masters of this habit.

Oh, it has become a habit, an addiction. Suddenly things are not quite so rosy.

On a visit to a morgue with a policeman friend of mine (No. No names or countries) to view a deceased person. My friend took out a photograph to compare with the corpse. The body that was on the slab was a skeleton with skin stretched over it. The photograph showed a stunning model; she was eighteen in the photograph, vibrant, shapely and very much alive. She was nineteen on the slab.

One year. She started smoking cannabis because it was ‘harmless’ and non-addictive. Then, at a party after a few drinks, she took a couple of ‘lines’ of cocaine.

The plunge downhill from that was rapid. All her money went on drugs and nothing on food.

She had no exit strategy. The drugs took that option away from her. They took her life away, too.

One day another friend of mine asked me if I should care to go to a football match in Moenchen-Gladbach. Of course I said that I should love to go.

He was called Michael and was an avid Moenchen-Gladbach supporter. Something I should have thought about more deeply.

Within the week he appeared with three tickets to the UEFA Cup match where Moenchen were to play against Dundee United.

Once again, not thinking too deeply here, I asked a Scottish colleague at work, whom I knew to be an ardent Dundee supporter, if he was going to need his favours for the match. He was pretty glum. He had, he said, no tickets so, yes, I could borrow the woolly hat and scarf.

Surprise, surprise. There I was standing in the middle of thousands of Moenchen-Gladbach supporters waving my black and tangerine scarf and shouting “Dundee... Dundee...” to, at first, somewhat hostile looks.

By now I had realised that I was about to die so I was going to go out with something of a flourish.

Happily, everyone around me started to laugh and then they tried to drown me out—successfully, I might add!

Dundee won 2-0 and I was escorted out to the nearest bar and treated to all the orange juice I could drink.

[Michael had realised that I was teetotal and so bought me a ticket on the grounds that I drove them home! Plus, of course, the in-match entertainment.]

Exit strategy. Fight or flight. Faced with thousands to one there is only a vague idea of survival. Make the most of the time left and hope that something turns up.

We can’t always plan our lives in the way that we should like.

Sometimes we are overtaken by events, we need to be flexible. We need to think on our feet to make the most of whatever opportunity presents itself even if that opportunity is ‘Get out! Now!’

Writing is like that. We can have a great story in our minds. It is something that we really need to write, to get it out of our heads. Until we get to the end of the story and find that we have nothing to say. It all just peters out.

Depressing. Frustrating. What a waste of a great story.

I have said before and now I say it again. The only way to write is to practice. Keep writing until your fingers bleed. Write anything. Write ‘Blogs’, write letters to friends, write posts on ‘Facebook’.

When it comes to your story, your hard won piece of flowing prose, you need an end.

It is vital to have an end to your story.

Now you can write that magnificent beginning that will ‘hook’ the reader, now you can weave the tale magically through the whole story while you are aiming at that ‘end’.

If you don’t have that... well...