HEA? No Way.
By Marsha Moyer | February 7, 2007 |
I was struck by something Vicky mentioned in her post last week about the back-and-forth between her and her publisher over a semi-upbeat ending for her book. I’ve been getting email in advance of the release of my next book from readers anxious about whether or not the story will end on a happy-ever-after note. (I’m so naïve, I had to write back to the first person who inquired about an “HEA” ending and ask what the acronym stood for.)
Prior to the publication of my first book, I never thought of myself as a particular kind of writer one way or the other. Good novels ought to transcend genre, right? Imagine my surprise when I found myself lumped into various categories from women’s fiction (which I can halfway understand and live with) to chick lit (when my characters wouldn’t know a Jimmy Choo or a Cosmopolitan if you knocked them upside the head with it) to romance. Readers of the latter category seem to be the ones who most eagerly clamor for HEA endings.
To which I can only say, Sorry, but it doesn’t work like that.
Life isn’t neat and tidy, and I don’t think literature should be either. Even in the best of times, there are loose ends, dark undercurrents, things that don’t match up. While I like to leave my readers feeling satisfied, I also want them to work a little, to go beyond the last few words on the page to come up with their own versions of what they think happened to the characters once the story ends.
I realize this attitude may have already cost me a few fans, even had an effect on my relationship with publishers. But my new editor at Three Rivers Press, Allison McCabe, likes to use the term “hen lit” to describe what I’m doing and what she hopes is a future trend in publishing: stories about women of a certain age who’ve made it through the more conventional events of their early lives—courtship, marriage, babies—and have moved on to the grittier things—relationship problems, illness, job challenges, aging.
In this regard, I have to agree with my character Ash Farrell when he said, “I like baggage. It’s how you carry the good stuff.” If that means letting my Unboxed flag fly by delivering non-cookie-cutter endings, so be it. Hopeful? I can do hopeful. But Happy Ever After? Doesn’t exist, not in my book.
Good for you, Marsha, and I think that’s what makes your work so strong. I like the unpredictability of not knowing what’s in store for the character, even after the last page has been read.
Having said that, I’m guilty of wanting a comfort read now and again. Sometimes a good HEA makes the days problems disappear for a little while.
Books with cracked-egg endings are more believable and probably more memorable than those with a perfect HEA, in my opinion. The characters have endured much; it would be inauthentic not to recognize those battle scars.
well, there is very little you can really count on in this life. and, truth be told, life is very hard and, at times, pretty unpleasant. so there’s death, taxes, and guaranteed happy endings in romance novels. those are the only 3 things you know are TRUE in this life!!! however, the case can be made that romance novel happy endings are just not realistic and give people false hopes – that they will find that special person, that they will have that baby, that house, that life and all will be well. and of course, life just isn’t that tidy or fair. on the other hand, life’s lessons and blows can be so horrific that it is nice to know that for 350-400 pages, love really does conquer all and the good person wins, and that the person you are rooting for actually gets what they want. perhaps it is that illusion or false hope that keeps us from being committed to the psych ward. but the ‘truth’ is probably somewhere in the middle. one’s happy ending is probably something we never planned on, maybe never even though of. but it’s where this crazy life took us and we can either make the best of it or die bitter. HEA books give us hope, if not actual satisfaction. and some days that’s just good enough for me to get by.
I like reading HEA’s simply because life is too darn full of disappointment. That’s not to say that I won’t read a book that doesn’t have an HEA, but I definitely have to be in the mood for it.
I like ending my books with the implication that the characters are making progress toward growth and better things. But I resist tying up all the loose ends simply because (a) life is never that tidy and (b) I want readers not just to use their imaginations, but to be hungry to read my next book. However, since I’m planning on closing out the series with my current wip, its ending will probably be less ambiguous than those that have preceded it. As a reader, I like a little mystery, the ability to inhabit the writer’s imaginary world beyond the point that s/he typed “The End,” so that’s what I try to do in my own work. I believe it’s at least part of what makes me an Unboxed writer, and I plan to stay one!
I think it’s a tradeoff. On one hand, you want a sense of justice in the ending. The protagonist prevailed. An ending doesn’t have to be happy – but there must be some kind of payoff. What did the hero buy? What did they pay for it? Was it worth what they paid? In most cases yes… but the payment can still hurt. You can have a satisfying ending without it being a happy one.
It can be bittersweet.
As a writer, I like my endings to be satisfying not necessarily happily ever after. I want to leave readers with a sense that the characters have grown up and will be able to face the problems that await them in their future.