The End

Some in the writing world are already aware of this about me, but not everyone is. Often, I write the ending of my books before I write much of the beginning. Sometimes, I do write other parts first. But more often than not, I have the ending finished before I have most of the book written. It seems to work well for me, since then I know where my story needs to go and can write it to get there. The ending is the end goal for me, and knowing about it helps me shape dialogue, characters, and actions to fit where the goal line is. And when I finally finish the story, I have a complete book.

Life is funny that way sometimes.

August was a strange month for some of us here in my little swath of the Midwest. At the beginning of the month, our beloved friend Margo died unexpectedly. In the final days of the month, our beloved friend Charlene won her long battle with cancer, although not in the way we all wanted her to win. Both women were only sixty-four years old. Both were well loved in their own ways and special to me as friends, mentors, and family members since they both belonged to the same church family I did. Both had a great deal to live for, and yet, their stories both came to an end.

There is a finiteness to death that makes it something we often don’t like to talk about. We use euphemisms like “she passed away” to avoid making reference to it and to soften the sting of death and to shield ourselves from the strong emotional reactions that death brings. But it is there, waiting and watching. From the moment we take our first breaths in this world, we are all terminal. There is a limited number of days to each of our lives, and while we never know when or where or how we will meet our demise, we each must face that ending to our story.

But we don’t have to stress about the ending. It’s the story we must continue to write. And even though there are very few chapters in our lives where death will not touch us, be it a friend, a loved one, a pet, a plant, or a beloved character in a story or movie or television series, we still carry on. We still write the chapters of our lives. We still look for meaning in the journey. We watch for the magic in the moments.

I’m deep in edits of the next book in my Portals Series, a novel titled Heirs to the Realm. Like my first three novels, this one is divided into three different books. But instead of having one character tell the story (or two, as Portal Seeker did), this novel has three voices. The first book tells the tale of Esperance Martinez of Earth, who shares the story of the Heir to the Dynast. Then Serena of the Realm of Original Magic shares her story as Heir to the Sage. The final story is that of Kohlberht, son of Soli, who is the Heir to the Seeker. As I mentioned before, I wrote the ending to this story, set as an epilogue, even before I started any of the tales. There are deaths of beloved characters, ones I could not avoid, that complete their journeys and their stories. But there is also a story of hope and love. There are new stories that branch out and a journey that, while done for some, continues for all. So while this is the end for one generation, the torch is picked up by the next generation and carried forward.

Life is funny that way sometimes.

As long as we have the end already in sight, we can figure out where we want to be. Though life is unpredictable, when we truly live, it is the greatest adventure. So be magical. Share hope. Exude that joy. Live peacefully. Extend love. It’s in how we spend our days that makes us who we are and who we will become.

Write your own story. Make it have a great ending!

Stay magical.

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If you wanted to see some of the fantasy works I have written, check out my Portals Series or The Magician (Click the titles to call up the links).

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