‘I’m not happy with the ending of this one,’ said Anna, preparing to read out her story. I glanced down at the sheets of paper she was shuffling together. There seemed a lot of them, and they looked to be laced with far more words than the five-hundred limit I’d set.
Before I could frame a question, Anna was reading. She began well, introduced three characters, provided nicely balanced dialogue that moved the action forwards, and delivered ambitions, and a situation. It was only as Anna flicked over the page that I realised her story was printed double-sided.
I eyed the sheaf of pages, and began to multiply them by minutes, but after a paragraph, Anna left page two, and moved to page three. As she flicked past that page after a couple more paragraphs, I realised that her redrafting had been printed out in the story.
The heap of paper was diminishing fast as Anna picked out solitary paragraphs from amongst the text. The story picked up pace and jumped a few decades of time to round off in a neatly comfortable conclusion. There was a murmur of approval. ‘That was fun,’ said Emma.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Anna. ‘It seems… unsatisfactory.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘it’s not in your usual dark style, but the ending fits.’
It did. ‘There’s a clear dramatic arc,’ I said, ‘and the characters are interesting and distinctive. But, why that conclusion?’
‘I thought I’d be cheery for a change.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘What about all those words you didn’t read out?’
Anna fidgeted with the edges of her pages. ‘The story kept going wrong, drifting off.’
‘So you had that end in mind from the beginning?’
‘A happy ending, yes.’
I said, ‘You were writing against your instincts?’
‘Well, yes. I wanted to write a happy story, for a change.’
I nodded. ‘You’ve done that, and we enjoyed it, despite you trying to put us off before you started. But maybe that other, darker story, is waiting to be told, too.’
* Illustration: The Reader, by Irving Ramsey Wiles (1900)