Probably one of my favorite quotes of all time comes from Chuck (aka God) on the tv series Supernatural, which coincidentally is ending soon. I’m too heartbroken to discuss Supernatural ending, but ENDINGs in particular catch authors between a rock and a hard place.
Chuck (aka God) from Supernatural says it best:
“Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There’s always gonna be holes. And since it’s the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you, they’re a raging pain in the ass.”
This is true not just with tv shows and movies, but books…especially series. You (as a reader) commit your time, your energy, your imagination, your heart and soul to a story and then the author either leaves you hanging with a cliffhanger only your imagination can fill in, or tries too hard to wrap it all up in a nice HEA (Happily Ever After) bow, or leaves you unsatisfied in some way that perhaps even you don’t understand. You just know that you are not happy now that it (the story) has ended. Sometimes, it really is just the fact that something you love has come to an end that there’s a huge hole in your heart. Regardless of the why, ENDINGS SUCK!
This discussion all started with a Facebook dialog on another author’s page and it really has me mulling things over hard, especially as I’m currently editing Book 3 of my own series (which was supposed to end with Book 3, but even I – the author – am not satisfied with the ending so I’m busting this baby out to at least 2 more books after #3 ~ much to the chagrin of the other stories swirling around in my noggin desperate to get out). Whereas the conversation on FB was particular to tv series, this also applies to book series.
Most tv series, and book series, have disappointing endings. For one, if you’re a fan of a show/book series, you’re already sad it’s ending. But why are we so emotionally connected to how the series ends?
For example, when Supernatural ends here in a few weeks…unless Sam and Dean are showing up on my own front porch then I will be disappointed because the characters and story have become part of my life. Watching the show has been my “escape” for years. Now what am I supposed to do? Find another show? *Gasp!* The horror of the thought!
I had the same thoughts/feelings when Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the off-shoot series, Angel, ended. Buffy wrapped up in a cute bow with dozens or more slayers now out in the world to protect us all from vamps and other hellish nightmares. What’s not to love about that? With Angel, it was a fantastic smashup, action-packed cliffhanger with the main character (the incredibly hot David Boreanaz) saying, “I kind of want to slay the dragon. Let’s get to work!” and then fade to black. OMG! What a kickass ending, right? Then why was I left with a huge black abyss in my soul?
Let’s take this to books. I just finished a series by one of my favorite authors. Gobbled up each and every book. Got to the end…good guys won! FMC (female main character) and MMC (male main character) live happily ever after! Supporting characters also live happily ever after! Awesome, right? I should be thrilled, right? NOPE! It was all wrapped up too neatly in a bow. Why on earth would I be disappointed when everyone except the bad guys got a wonderful HEA?
Even historical fiction based on real-life persons, I know how it’s going to end, but I’m still like “WTF? Cleopatra DIES! Octavian Caesar wins?!” Ugh!
Endings suck. They just do. Because part of our hearts and souls are connected to the story. It has fueled our imagination for years possibly. So when the inevitable happens…the ending…we are left with a piece of ourselves missing/torn/bruised.
No ending, no matter how HEA (happily ever after) given to us by tv producers or authors, will ever fill that hole, soothe that ache, or mend that jagged rip in our souls. So despite the best intentions of the creators, we will always remain disappointed to some extent.
As I keep writing my own series, dear readers, I am trying to keep you all in mind as I continue creating to get the the inevitable ending. But the truth is, the story must end how the creator sees it in his/her own imagination. Sometimes even we don’t like our own ending, but that’s just where the story leads. I’ve tried to write stories with different endings, different circumstances that didn’t fit with the story banging around in my head, and to be honest…that was always a huge mistake and I always went back and changed things to authentically sync with the story in my own head. The characters wouldn’t have it any other way.
So please don’t lash out at the authors, the tv show creators and producers and screen writers when the book or show or movie ends and leaves you upset or let down.
Truly, we are not out here in the universe trying to find ways to piss off the fans. No matter what ending is written, it’s never going to be enough to fill that gaping hole in our hearts because it simply is …THE END!
As Supernatural’s Chuck said several seasons ago,
“No doubt, endings are hard, but then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?”
Maybe that’s why endings are so difficult, either we can’t accept that it is “the end” or perhaps nothing ever really ends. Our imaginations make the story live on.
So you may be a bit confused by the title of this week’s blog but here’s my logic which may or may not pass for real logic but it is what it is, folks!
I’m a huge Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan
I’m a huge Supernatural fan
When the Ghostfacers asked “WWBD?” or “What Would Buffy Do?” I squealed with delight.
There’s a somewhat similar push/pull/stalkerish vibe with my characters, Greylyn and Kael, as was between Buffy and Angelus (not really Angel, but his alter ego) and between Buffy and Spike.
Buffy was “The One” – According to buffy.fandom.com/wiki/Slayer, the definition of “Slayer” is…“Into every generation, there is a chosen one. One girl in all the world. She alone will wield the strength and skill to stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness; To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer.”―The original prophecy of the Slayer. Well, Greylyn, was the one person who could fulfill this prophecy that the bad guy wants fulfilled. She’s “the One” but he doesn’t call her that.
Now the story of Greylyn the Guardian Angel isn’t based on Buffy. I just wanted to compel any Buffy fans out there, that if you liked Buffy, you’ll love Greylyn too!
Also, WWBD…
If you’re looking for something Twilight-esqe, Rekindled Prophecy – Book 1 of the Greylyn the Guardian Angel series is not for you. Sorry in the Greylyn universe vamps are not romantic, although they do try to fake it in the second book of the series (so maybe you’ll like this series after all if you’re a Twilight fan), Revelations which is currently with the editor.
Here’s a little excerpt to showcase just how Greylyn and Kael are a bit Buffy and Angelus (evil Angel obsessed with tormenting Buffy). And if you have no clue who Buffy is…please do yourself a favor and look up this series (I think it may be on Hulu now).
*********
A wave of heat originated from his touch, spreading out to her entire body. “Everything’s al-right now, Gr—” His voice, smooth yet husky, trailed off but with a slight accent marking him as not English.
A chill raced through her veins, freezing her in place as she watched his glowing topaz eyes morph to a deep crimson.
A demon?
No, not exactly. The hint of sulfur was missing. The way pinpricks of pain flashed out when a demon touched her skin didn’t happen. Oh, there were pinpricks of something, but definitely not the same sensation. No, he wasn’t a demon, nor was he possessed by one. Of that she was certain, but the realization something was different about this man was enough to jar her back to her senses.
Her fingers coiled tighter around the hilt of her dagger—a weapon bestowed upon her as part of her initiation into the world of guardian angels. The handle, intricately carved with a Celtic symbol inter-laced with the sign of infinity and two opals of varying shades embedded in the center, now pressed into the soft skin of her palm. Months of intensive practice, it was now an extension of herself. Its sharp, jagged edges of an almost blue metal were forged specifically to kill demons, to kill anything not intended for this world. Greylyn prayed it also worked on whatever this man was.
He hadn’t moved. Just stared at her with those freaky eyes of blood. She slashed upward with the blade. He jerked away, but not in time. A gash appeared across his cheek, and his hand flew up to his face. Greylyn used his momentary surprise to push herself off the ground to run away. Not two steps later, the man grabbed her upper arm, hauling her backward into his chest with such momentum she felt, as well as heard, the cracking of her spine from the impact. The small bones of her wrist popped painfully under pressure from his much larger hand, forcing her fist to unclasp and the dagger to fall. His other hand snaked around her waist to press firmly into the small of her back.
“Going somewhere so soon?” His voice held a gruff edge to it now, no longer velvety smooth.
Every instinct screamed at her not to, but she defiantly craned her neck to stare up at her captor. Big mistake. He whipped her around to face him. Now pressed against his chest, the thumping of her own heart mixed with the sound of his own rose to a deafening level, blocking out all other sounds. His lips curled on one side, highlighting a dimple. Perfectly white teeth glinted in the dim moonlight. Warm breath caressed her face, smelling slightly of bourbon.
“Let. Me. Go,” she ground out from clenched teeth. Her body shivered, but she refused to acknowledge the fear. Although she thought she might not survive her first guardian assignment, Jasper’s mantra that he’d drilled into her head over the last year rang in her ears—Never acknowledge the fear. A guardian does not have the luxury of giving in to fear. Greylyn prayed her eyes reflected resolve and courage, not the terror coursing through her veins. Or whatever else was pulsing through her body.
A full grin broke out on the man’s face. The red flames dancing in his eyes smoldered before returning to their topaz hue that had riveted her in place earlier. His entire face relaxed. “Now, love. Why would I do that? There’s so much we have to discuss before …”
Greylyn stomped down on his foot with all her strength. Considering their significant size difference, she didn’t expect it to work, but it startled her captor enough for him to loosen his grip. She wrenched her arm away while her other fist swung up and slammed into his face. Blood gushed from his nose, flowing down to drip off his chiseled chin.
Instead of an angry shout or a return punch, he glared steadily at her with no other outward show of pain or emotion.
“So much for civility then.” The words were spoken so softly through thinned lips that she almost doubted he’d spoken at all until his fist shot out. Excruciating pain blinded her.
The jerk broke my nose!
Strong hands gripped her arms and yanked her with such force her neck snapped as her body sailed across the alleyway. Colliding with the moss-covered stone wall of the tavern, all the air whooshed out of her lungs. A coppery tinge filled her mouth.
Pain and anger boiled up, fueling a surge of adrenaline that brought everything into crystal clear focus. All sound, except for her assailant’s heavy breathing, stopped. She waited.
Why didn’t he attack?
She raised her head in defiance, blood, and muck clinging to the strands of hair covering her face.
I am a guardian angel. No evil shall pass by me.
The words were drilled into her for months by her mentor. He’d made her repeat it verbally every day before lessons and every night before sleep.
This man was obviously evil. Demon or not, evil was evil. She had no choice but to put an end to him.
“Like hitting little girls, do you? Not very gentle-manly.” She clicked her tongue behind her teeth as her arms numbly pushed her into a squatting position. Sizing him up, this time as an opponent, Greylyn saw past the fashionable attire and good looks to the dark soul underneath. A blackness exuded from his aura, so dark it mingled with the night sky. How had she not seen it before?
The man straightened to his full height, hands at his side curled into fists. “You shouldn’t be here, love.” She’d expected an angry retort or another attack, but his voice was soft and shaky.
Her eyes darted around the alley. She needed a weapon, preferably her own. Where had it gone? With the moon fully ensconced behind the clouds, it was impossible to see more than his faint outline, even with her superior nighttime vision.
Greylyn rose to stand, her fists clenched at her hips and her back against the broken stone wall. “Well, I am here. Ready to party.” She’d aimed for a daring, but jovial tone. The slight squeak at the end belied her inner fear.
“Looking for a good time, I see. Well then, how about a dance?”
He sprung at her in a blur, but Greylyn dodged just an inch to the left, and he slammed into the same wall he’d thrown her against. She pivoted to attack while he was still prone on the ground, but a sudden glint of blue caught her attention. Her dagger! Just a few yards away.
She dove to the right, her outstretched fingers grazed the hilt, but her hesitation cost her. A hand clamped down fully on the handle and wrestled it away from her grasp. He rolled her over roughly, straddled her hips with her arms trapped under-neath his knees, and smashed her face with the fist holding her own weapon.
Pain exploded as bones and tendons cracked, and blood seemed to spurt from every pore. The assault continued, punch after punch, blow after blow. Greylyn’s world turned crimson just before a blackness edged her vision.
Her first assignment as a guardian angel. Her first failure, and quite possibly, her last.
Death was inevitable. Not even her own super-natural strength could save her from this monster.
Despite the agony racing throughout her body, her mind clearly accepted her fate.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil …
Silence fell over the alley. The rain of punches stopped. Greylyn’s eyes opened to peek at her attacker. What she saw chilled her to her soul—the demonic red eyes had smoldered away, back to their original gold-flecked hue. The man’s face trans-formed from pure rage to sadness as a tear rolled down his face. A tear? “I’m … I … Oh, no …” His trembling lips continued to move, but no coherent words formed.
“What in the bloody hell …” An angry roar shocked her out of her stupor. That voice she recognized. Jasper.
A tall shadow with piercing eyes of ice jerked her assailant away from her.
“You damn …” He didn’t finish his sentence, just punched the man in the face while holding him by his lapel.
Greylyn gulped in air. She wasn’t dead, not yet. Renewed energy pulsated through her body and gave her strength to push herself up on shaky arms. She stared, turning to look at each man as they circled each other. Both men with deadly intent etched on their faces. In between getting hit and throwing jabs of his own, the stranger muttered, “Had to be you! It just had to be you!” One final uppercut to Jasper’s jaw and the guardian angel fell back.
Her mouth opened to scream for him to leave Jasper alone, but no words came out. He turned to her, his face bloodied, but with a sad smile. “Until next time, love.” Seconds later, he vanished down the alleyway.
Suddenly able to move again, Greylyn jumped up and ran over to Jasper. “Who the hell was that?”
“Oh, I’m fine, by the way.” With the indignant look he flashed her, she knew Jasper was far from being fine. Physically, yes, he was alright. But his icy-blue eyes spoke volumes of fury she could not under-stand.
“I’m so sorry …” She checked him for injuries, her hands roved over his body. His clothes were spatter-ed with blood. Other than his pride, and a black eye that would fade in an hour or two, he was in perfect shape.
Greylyn knew she looked a mess. Hell, she should be dead. Instead, the blood had already dried, and the sizzle of her bones mending underneath her skin comforted her.
I’m not going to die. At least not tonight.
Jasper cupped her chin. “Yes, I know. It’s my fault. It was too soon to send you out on your own like that. I realized my mistake and came to find you, in case you needed assistance.” A nerve twitched in his jaw. “And, I find I was correct. You certainly needed help.” Disappointment was evident in his tone.
“Oh, no! Edward? Did he escape? I came out here looking for him, but these guys,” she waved her hand toward the corpses littering the alley, “were after him and …”
“Yes, yes. I get it. You ran into the bad guys, and as a bonus, you got a bloody dark guardian your first time on your own.”
“A what?”
“A dark guardian. The exact opposite of us, darling. You are just lucky I came along when I did. That one would’ve carved you up like a porterhouse steak.” He pushed himself off the ground. At his full height of well over six feet tall, he towered above her.
“Does this dark guardian have a name?” She didn’t know why it mattered that she find out his name. Jasper narrowed his eyes at her in obvious dis-approval.
“That one in particular is Kael,” Jasper spat. “Truly nasty piece of work. Avoid him at all costs. Hopefully, you will never have to see that creature again.”
He turned toward her and grabbed her by the upper arms, leaning forward so they were nose to nose. An aroma of whiskey and tobacco wafted into her face. “Greylyn, promise me that you will stay away from Kael. If he ever crosses your path, either annihilate him completely with your dagger through his heart and then rip it out of his body while it’s still beating; or run. Just run.”
******
And one of my favorite Kael lines:
“Besides, if I want you dead, I’ll do the deed myself. No one else gets that pleasure. No one.” His tone was teasing, but she suspected it was the underlying truth.
Until next week!
When in doubt, remember to ask yourself…
Buffy would buy Rekindled Prophecy – Book 1 of the Greylyn the Guardian Angel series.
Rekindled Prophecy: Greylyn the Guardian Angel is a fantasy/paranormal novel with strong undertones of romance and sex appeal between two enemies – one working for Heaven, the other working for Hell.
Truly, we are not out here in the universe trying to find ways to piss off the fans. No matter what ending is written, it’s never going to be enough to fill that gaping hole in our hearts because it simply is …THE END!
