You know all of those loose ends you’ve been carefully shunting to one side in your memory so as not to forget about tying them up? You look around the walls of your last chapter, and you try to make sure you’ve accounted for everything.

I think of it like a block of transparent acrylic, with all the important bits and pieces gleaming inside somewhere. I look them over, trying to call them to mind as I identify them, wondering about that dimly lit bit near the bottom, and prepare to write the final words.

But then I pause… Have I accounted for everything and everyone? Are all the motives plausible and all the supporting bits in place?

But there are other considerations. One of the ones I think about is how to elevate the impact of my writing at the end, to leave an admiring taste in the reader’s mouth. I polish that bit of writing especially seriously, hoping the rider will want another taste from my pen.

On the flip side, as I ponder how well the structure holds (at this final decision point), I dread the “oh shit” discovery as I look back. The “that’s not how that works, is it, now that I think about it? I better look that up.” The “But what ever happened to the guy who got away?” for a loose end still dripping ink in there somewhere that makes you contemplate a big rip-out and re-think.

Although the story supports itself in many and various ways, there’s also a sense in which the ending (done well) is like a glass ball with the responsibility of balancing the entire story on it’s back, swaying gently. There’s a temptation not to disturb it, not to rethink the elements that got it there. What if you disturb that balance?

But if you can think of a legitimate issue, now that you’re looking hard, you can’t leave it unaddressed — if you’re like me, it will irritate you forever. So take a big breath and really finish the job.

Or do you have other reactions? What’s the worst “unexpected rewrite” you’ve had to accommodate? Or your worst disappointment from someone else’s insufficient ending polish?