Endings are kind of tricky. I like a big smash-and-crash and bring-the-story-to-an-end-without-a-lot-of-boring-unravelment, but according to my agent, editors*** at publishing companies are crazy about ravelment, so I usually end up writing another chapter explaining all the smash-and-crash.
The one I wrote this week is named "Chapter Twenty-two", an auspicious number**** It is 1,278 words long. The first sentence is:
"About time,” shouted Henry above the boom and blast of the arctic blow screaming past the shattered window in Thomas Goldberg’s childhood bedroom.
And the last is:
“The invention of chocolate,” murmured Mara Pulaski aloud. “OOOoo.”
Honestly, this story has everything. Faulty wiring, sea-monkeys---the invention of chocolate.
I have had just the best time writing.....
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*Ha! I knew it---you were just hoping I really *was* working on a zombie-dog story. Which I'm not. Regular dogs are hard enough for me, thanks.
**ha HA! This one really does have sea-monkeys in it, but in a supporting role only.
***I'd like an editor from a publishing company criticize my ending! That'd be nifty!
****And yeah, according to Wikipedia number 22 really isn't all that lucky. Poo.
