Endings are always difficult to write, I find. Fiction, or nonfiction, I never know how to end things. I know what comes at the start, and at the middle, and everything leading up to an end. But never the end. Maybe it's because every story, no matter what, is a work in progress.
I was born in 1991. I have lived 21 years and some months. My story is not yet over. I've had days that ended, I've had months and years and little stories that have ended, but they all weave into one another, and tearing out one thread to make a story of it does little but unravel the entire piece. When I write, I don't write for an ending, I write to tell something. When I tell someone something, it doesn't end just because I may say it does, there's always another day, another month, another year.
Death, too, is not an end. Death is a stop. I wouldn't choose to end my own story with my heart stopping, I refuse to think about the fact that with my life ends all recollection and all trace of me on this earth. My bones, my hair, my body will still exist. The people I love and have loved and who have loved me and who knew me will live.
I've often thought about that, the idea of all of me fading the moment my heart stops. I don't want that, I refuse that. I will reject that. I want something to live by, something that will outlast me. A painting that outlasts its artist, a book outlasting its author, a creation outlasting its creator. Not a living creation, in the sense of owning a heartbeat and breath, but something that will live for me.
To have created something, like putting your soul in it and setting it free, isn't it an interesting thought?
I loved this blog post! Especially when you say, "Maybe it's because every story, no matter what, is a work in progress." That statement could not be any truer. When you pour your soul into your writing I really do believe it is like you are leaving something permanent behind. Those words will always be there and have meaning, even when we are no longer around.
ReplyDeleteI know the feeling of struggling with endings. I often write the majority of a piece, prepare to finish the story, and think "What now?". I know I struggle with the fact that there are many things in the world that are beyond my control and writing endings allows me to put a limit or cap on something, so that it becomes finite and more accessible. You speak eloquently of the end of physicality and I love the fact that you admit to wanting to impart something of yourself to the world. How wonderful would it be if such articles showed only our strengths and not the flaws we see within ourselves?
ReplyDeleteYou are absolutely right; no story can really end as long as the subject is still out being them-self and doing something. People are often nervous to think about the fact that they will at some point be forgotten, but in writing, the end of a story doesn't mean the end of everything, it's just the opportunity for a new story to begin. I always want to find ways to finish stories, but at the same time leave them open-ended enough that the idea of something new coming is still there. It's a difficult thing to do effectively, I know I'm not great with it, but it's really something that needs to be worked at constantly.
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