I’ve decided I won’t be recapping the past year – I lived it, I’ve appreciated the pluses, despised those responsible for the minuses and will take many lessons forward. But I don’t need to relive it. My TV and radio are currently in a state of rest. 🙂
The New beginning is another matter. The first of January gives us the opportunity to put an arbitrary line across the page of life and start again. I like it – it’s positive.
With a quiet Festive Season this year, I took the opportunity to read and decreased my ‘To Be Read’ pile by some dozen tomes. Some genres I’d never read or appreciated before were inspirational other regulars, somewhat disappointing.
Some criticize the art of writing with a dash of romance. I’ve just read a wonderful story that stopped being wonderful as the designated ending began to evolve some seven eighths into the journey. The final chapters became depressingly inevitable. I say depressing because the story had been so uplifting, showing such strength of the human soul.
It’s not that I feel all stories need to be fairytales with happy-ever-after endings, but the reader should be given hope – for the effort if for nothing else, otherwise just turn the TV and radio back on.
Great point, we all need that hope. I love ‘dash’ of romance. Books all about the romance are great, but the romance plus something is even better.
I agree totally. Page after page of “romance” dims the excitement altogether IMO while the greater the “plus something” the better the romance seems to be.
I am really looking forward to reading more of your blog. What a find. 🙂
My preferred genre may be a little different, but I agree that inevitable conclusions can be a major frustration. I get similarly annoyed when, having built an intriguing and complex plot, an author appears to tire of his/her project, changes pace and abruptly ends the story.
Someone accused me once of writing material that stopped like a bike hitting a brick … I think I now know what he meant.
Great analogy – I’ve experienced both, in a literary sense and more often than one would expect – also as a five year old dashing through a puddle on a bike.