When the writer contemplates the final chapter of her story, she decides between neatly tying up loose ends and leaving her readers guessing. She crafts the story’s final destination to work best for her characters and their journey, yet not necessarily the finish the readers expect or think they want. Saying good-bye marks the end of something- a relationship, a job, a dream or a story. While farewells can be difficult, they are an essential piece of the narrative pie.  Without a well thought final chapter, last line or epilogue our stories would flounder around in limbo like a piece of dead driftwood bobbing endlessly in a vast and desolated sea of nothingness.

In preparing the most fitting ending, the writer composes a memorable last line to highlight the theme, or she drafts a poignant paragraph to provide closure, or she may expand on the ending with a concluding epilogue to tie the tale together, to resonate with the reader’s emotional experience, or to help the audience grapple with any lingering questions and ultimately compare and reflect on their own life’s journey.

We write epilogues when we have more to say, to reveal the fates of our characters, to clarify events after the story has ended or simply to continue the story.  Epilogues allow the author to highlight the significant moments of her story before the reader must bid farewell to the characters and the journey upon which they traveled together.  Epilogues are written to make sense of the theme or story’s purpose, to provide some degree of closure, or to relieve tension for the audience, or at the very least hint of the characters’ outcome or future.

To illustrate this idea, I found a clever one in Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games trilogy that releases some of the tension of the story while providing the audience with reflective food for thought;

      They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

  The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years. How can I tell them about that world without frightening them to death? My children, who take the words of the song for granted:

  Deep in the meadow, under the willow. 

  A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

  Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

  And when again they open, the sun will rise.

  Here it’s safe, here it’s warm

  Here the daisies guard you from every harm

  Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

  Here is the place where I love you.

  My children, who don’t know they play on a graveyard.

  Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I’ll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won’t ever really go away.

  I’ll tell them how I survive it. I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive.  Even a little tedious after more than twenty years.

  But there are much worse games to play.

Restoring some level of peace where before there was perpetual uproar and turmoil, this epilogue provides a degree of closure that touches on the whole point of the story. While it does not completely wrap up loose ends it provides the reader with insight about the narrative and its theme. 

To this point, Mirra R describes epilogues in her December 2022 article for Notion Press ;

  An epilogue is an opportunity to invite readers to reflect on the journey they’ve just completed. It allows authors to have an opportunity to close the story but not necessarily without any lingering questions…..it acts as a layer that provides a level of depth and sophistication that can grant sharp insight and closure into what would otherwise be a series of unfinished narratives.

Not all stories need drawn out expanded epilogues, however.  Some final chapter endings are complete on their own with a single powerful last line.  One such well known last line ending that is often debated is F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby closing line;.  “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” 

Here, the author creatively sums up the story’s theme in one final bow to the audience.  Like the green light flashing across the bay, Jay Gatsby’s dreams for a happy future with Daisy Buchanan, the love of his life, continually recede into the distance or “ceaselessly into the past” , not unlike Fitzgerald’s dismal view of  the American Dream that he believes always eludes us.  While I am not necessarily in agreement with Fitzgerald’s perception of the American Dream’s impossibility to achieve as a result of hard work and perseverance, I do admire the way he illustrates his beliefs through these final words.  That last line conveys the tragic point of the novel, to diminish hope for the gainful pursuit of the American Dream, and the idea of true equality of wealth for everyone who desires it, regardless of class or where they come from. For all Gatsby’s acquired wealth and greatness, through which he could buy his place in society with his glitzy party invitations and flashy persona, he would never really be welcome in the old money society where people like the Buchanans, Jordan Baker and even Nick Carraway  live, in contrast to those who work hard to survive, like Myrtle and George Wilson and even Jay Gatsby himself, as they are excluded and ultimately fail.  In that meaningful last line of hopelessness Fitzgerald sums up his perception of human pointlessness and the futility of the American Dream.  (Again, in no way am I pointing to this example as an agreement with the author’s position; rather I include it as a credit to Fitzgerald’s cleverness in conveying his pessimistic and bleak point of view to his audience through fictional story and a well written last line.)

Closing chapters, last lines, epilogues, and final farewells  in real life can be painful, and yet they can close the circle. They can be hard to navigate and they can be life-changing.  They can deplete us and they can complete us.  We can walk away as a changed person for the better, ready to begin again in a new chapter, or we can crawl back under our old oppressive rock to accept defeat.  Like the writer who controls the fate of her characters, theme and plot, we can craft the ending that makes our own life story compelling, meaningful, memorable and impactful.

Whether it is a single last line, a poignant final paragraph or an expanded epilogue ending, the writer treats the story ending with the respect, clarity, and dignity her characters and their story deserve. Instead of mourning the ending to the story, after investing so much of our time and emotion, it is better to leave it as a changed person, better because of it.  As Margaret Mitchell wrote in her famous last line of Gone with the Wind, “After all, tomorrow is another day”, and another chance to write a new chapter even better than the chapters that came before it.

Likewise, in Kristin Harmel’s novel The Book of Lost Names  (spoiler alert, so skip this section if you have not read this wonderful book yet), the protagonist reflects on her past as she looks to the future ahead of her: “I’m twenty-five again, my whole life ahead of me, rather than behind, all the chapters still unwritten.” Writing farewells and endings is the finishing touch to our story, but we should remember and be grateful for the chapters that got us there and their value to the whole story.

And so, dear fellow writers and readers, my expanded last line wish for you as we close out another year is to neatly tie up the loose ends that you must,  allow some endings to transition into new beginnings, and that you joyously and  peacefully continue your story’s journey alongside  your own beloved characters as you fill the pages with the best words to steer you toward the last page waiting in the distance to be written when it is your time to turn the final page of your tale, and that in the meantime  you continue to draft each part of your story, from the first line to the last, as if your story as just begun.