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Addiction, amwriting, happy endings, heroin addiction, Novel, novel writing, Publishing, revision, writing process
Florence Harrison, 1887 – 1937
One of the publishers we sent my novel to wants a rewrite of the ending. While their readers said they loved the first 2/3 of the novel (the novel is divided into 3 parts), they felt I tried a little too hard to tie up all the loose threads into what they called an “uber happy” ending for my characters.
I can’t say I’m surprised by this reaction. I too worried that I might have tied up the novel in too pretty a bow. Perhaps I should have left at least one or two threads dangling for the reader to play with. But I believed, despite that, the transformations of the characters, their coming to grips with their past, their fears, their demons, their very real struggles and eventual triumphs are what we all hope to find at the end of our stories, both the real and the imagined.
Happy does happen, after all.
But, of course, in reality, our stories and struggles do not end as they do in a novel. Our lives keep on going after that final page, whether it ends on a high note or a low. We all know that. So what’s the harm of ending the novel on an upbeat tick?
I wanted that for them, for these deeply flawed characters who I had come to love. Weren’t their flaws and failings, their addictions and anxieties, their grief and doubts and fears enough grit to ground the story? Couldn’t we soar a bit too, near the end?
Happy happens too, right?
But does it last?
Probably the most improbable part of my ending is the struggling son’s recovery from heroin addiction. Not an easy thing to do. The statistics are all against it. Few survive, and those who do never feel completely free. It’s always there, slippery beneath their feet, breathing hard down their necks, a giant question mark dangling on the horizon like a sharp, deadly hook.
Some parts of this novel are based loosely on my son’s struggle with heroin addiction. For all I tried, I never could completely wean him of his addiction. I could help him: Pull him off the street, put him into rehab, pick him up from jail, search for the medication and counseling he needed; call an ambulance when he overdosed.
Sometimes it worked. Woven through his battles with addiction are the times he won, the year, or two, or three he was free and happy and thriving. But it never lasted much more than that. Four, tops.
I always thought: If only he would listen to me, take my advice, do what I say; if I could lock him in a closet and keep him safe; if I could trade places with him, get into his skin and live his life for him, beat down the addiction once and for all and then give him his life back again, I would. But I couldn’t. I never could control him any more than he could control his addiction.
But I could control my characters. I could manage their recovery. I could give them a happy ending. It does happen, doesn’t it?
Rarely.
So I’m rewriting the end of my novel with that sharp, thorny question mark dangling in the air. As it always does, for each of us, whether we struggle with addiction or not.
Paradise burns to the ground. Mudslides swallow homes. Daughters lose babies. Sons relapse. Again, and again, and again.
But strangely, miraculously, hope never dies. Not completely. Homes are rebuilt. Lives turned around. Marriages mended.
Families come together at Thanksgiving and look across the table at each other with all their flaws and fears, their unhealed hurts and scars, and they love what they see. Through it all, despite it all, they just love.
That’s what my novel is all about. That “despite it all” kind of love, happy ending or not.
Deborah J. Brasket 
Oh Deborah, write it like you just did above…to do otherwise would be to insult and add hurt to those of us who know better.
Huge hugs cross country to you my flower-sister.
Thank you, Laura, I really appreciate that!
Well, you certainly now have me intrigued about your novel. I hope it comes out soon.
I will admit that I’m a reader who can get turned off by the “everybody lived happily ever after” ending, but reading your post, I wonder if you could write the ending in such a way that it’s clear that this “ending happiness” is likely only temporary. There are clouds on the horizon …. or we were all here once before. Or something like that.
I’m sorry too to hear of the struggles your son has had. It must be very difficult. As the father of two boys who are now 23 and 21, I worry about one of them experiencing those types of difficulties.
I’m glad you are intrigued and hope you will have a chance to read it someday. Yes, I’ve been thinking along the same lines, a way of showing he’s still struggling while not relapsed yet. I fervently hope your sons are able to resist that pull. It has ruined too many lives. Wish the best to your and yours.
Thanks for sharing the backstories Deborah. I’m sorry to hear about your son, but glad that you still find hope. blessings, Brad
Thank you, Brad. It is a strange miracle how hope endures. Without it I don’t think we could survive.
Agreed.
Thank you for sharing your personal story. It speaks to universal experience.
Thank you, Catherine. Hard to share sometimes, but helpful to me and others, I hope.
Deborah, you are multitalented! A writer and a painter, an optimist and a realist, a mother.
How did I not know you had written a novel? And for me, I cannot blame you for writing a happy ending. You have lived with eternal hope that your son will have one! These words are so perfectly descriptive: “It’s always there, slippery beneath their feet, breathing hard down their necks, a giant question mark dangling on the horizon like a sharp, deadly hook”.
Thank you so much. That means a lot to me.
What wonderful news, Deborah. How terrific to have received this advice and interest from a publisher.
Thank you, Dianne. It is encouraging.
I have come back to this post at least 3 times to reply and then left because….
On the one hand I agree with your publisher. Life rarely forms a neat bow. More often than not its a recycled bow that grows shaggier with passing years and reuse. In my opinion. And in my world-view, I guess. But that’s my world view and not yours. What’s important is that its the story YOU are telling, not the one your publisher wants you to tell. If you want your characters to have a happy ending or the possibility of a happy ending, then that is your right/write.
Bravo my friend. Kudos.
It’s your first published novel, go with the flow, you did what needed to be done, courage will be your reward later, this chapter in your life has a long way to go yet!