News from Squire's Isle

A few weeks ago, CBS aired the final episode of Person of Interest. It was an early but not unexpected ending, which gave the show time to wrap up their storylines. The result was a series that lasted five seasons and just over 100 episodes. It was a show that told a story with a distinct beginning, middle, and ending, a show that had elements of its endgame hidden in some of the earliest episodes. The characters were given appropriate (if tragic, in some cases) final chapters. And when the last scene faded to black, we were left with a show that had told its story and was closing the book.

There are people passing around petitions for a sixth season on Netflix. I’m not signing any of them, even though I count Person of Interest as maybe my favorite show of all time. I don’t want more. I don’t want forced plotlines and watered down versions of the greatness that came before. Too often, shows overstay their welcome just so they can say it’s still on. I loved The Good Wife, but my love for it waned hard and fast to the point where I haven’t even started the final season. Stargate SG-1 reigns supreme as my favorite show, but even I admit the last few seasons weren’t its best (although I’ll be forever grateful we got to know Vala). I’m not happy that there will never be any new Person of Interest, but I’m very glad that we got what we did and that it never went downhill in terms of quality.

That’s the importance of ending. I’ve written a few series in my time, and the first two had very distinct endings. The Claire Lance series was created with a fifth book in mind because I knew it wouldn’t make any sense to have her running endlessly. There had to be an end to her road. As much as I loved her and I loved writing for her, I had to give her peace eventually. The same thing happened with Riley Parra. I didn’t know exactly how long she would go on (it ended up being five books as well). I could have written her until the end of time and been very happy to do so. But I knew that eventually she deserved to rest. She deserved a happy ending. Her supporting cast deserved their endings as well.

I’m currently writing two series that I’ve planned to be ongoing: Underdogs and Trafalgar & Boone. The former is on book 5, with no ending in sight. I’ve crafted that series to have built-in finales every few books. The third book ended one story, and book 5 begins a new arc, with standalones sprinkled throughout. Ariadne and Dale will continue to grow and evolve. The stories will begin and end so new readers can slip in whenever and wherever they want. But eventually I will either end or slow down the series to give Ari and Dale a final ending so they can have some peace, too. Trafalgar & Boone is a bit trickier. I’m not sure how many books will be in that series when all is said and done, but I’m definitely planning for more than five. Seven seems like a nice number, but we’ll see what transpires with the plot.

These days, everyone seems obsessed with continuations. The story must go on, the show must be renewed, the movie must have sequels and spawn a franchise. All good things come to an end, all stories need to eventually stop. The book needs to be closed so a new one can be opened. As much as I loved writing Riley and Claire (who may return in a series epilogue novel… stay tuned) and Ari and Trafalgar & Boone, I know eventually I’ll write them all for the last time. And while that’s sad, I’m excited about the possibilities. It changes how I’ll write them because I know there won’t be a chance to get it right later.

And then there’s the old adage: “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” And once the story is done, you have the full story in front of you, and you can go back to the beginning to relive the story you loved knowing how it will all come together in the end. If the series keeps going in perpetuity, soon you have thirteen novels full of references to past stories that you half remember and would be incomprehensible to new readers. At that point it’s virtually impossible to give the series a graceful ending, so instead it just fades away. No one wants a story they once loved to fade into a pale shadow of its former self.

“The End” only means the story has stopped being told. It will always be there, waiting for you when you’re ready to revisit it.