Wrapping Up the Packages

With the holidays so recently behind us, January seems like a good time to reflect on wrapping packages

—that is, on tying up all the loose ends in our plots, down to the smallest questions in a reader’s mind. I

wrote recently about reader expectations, and here’s a biggie. Although a certain ambiguity may be

thought-provoking, basically anyone who picks up your book has the right to find her questions answered.

This embraces all the areas where any mystery has existed: the who, what, when, where, how, and why

of the story.

In a classic whodunnit, the final exposition lays out all of these answers for the central mystery.

But any novel needs a satisfying set of solutions to the questions it has raised—and not just elements of

the main plot. Here are a few sorts of oblique mysteries you may have opened without even thinking

about it. Forgive me if I use the murder mystery as an example; these reflections will apply sui generis to

any genre you write.

Just What Do You Think You’re Doing?

First of all, there’s the touchstone of normal behavior. If a protagonist acts outside this norm, tell us why.

Even if it’s just out of his individual character for a personage to be so—you name it: trusting?

Suspicious? Mild-tempered? Angry?—we need to know why. Do they have something in mind? Are they

trying to allay a suspect’s mistrust? Does this touch them painfully in an old psychic wound? Don’t leave

the reader feeling the author has missed a beat. If the character seems to overreact, give us an explanation.

If they seem not to have seen a clue that is shrieking its importance so that that reader is aware of it,

explain why. Let them notice and discard it for a particular reason, for example. Readers should never

have to wonder if characters react in the way they do simply because the plot requires it.

What Do Threads and Participles Have in Common?

Threads, like participles, shouldn’t dangle. It’s typical for an investigator to talk through the state of her

case with a colleague, a friend, or even her cat. This is a great way to sum up what the reader needs to

know at this point of the story. In the course of this conversation, she’s likely to pose herself some

questions. “But why would he want his grandmother dead?” “If she was excavating on Bora Bora at the

time, how could she have been seen in Reno?” Or it may be something like why the sidekick was late to

their meeting, which enabled him to spot the suspect entering a wig store. Or, if it’s mentioned that

George’s wife is due to deliver a baby any day, please let us know how that turned out. Any question

that’s asked, any possibility that’s opened—whether it’s part of the central mystery or not—must be

resolved by the end. It’s worth doing a final comb-through of the manuscript, jotting down every thread

that’s opened, just to be sure it gets a resolution.

And Now To Wrap Up

Those are just a few examples of the kind of threads that need to be tied neatly up by the end of the book

lest you leave readers dissatisfied. You’ve probably encountered a few when you yourself were reading

someone else’s work and know what I mean! There can be exceptions, to be sure. One that springs to

mind is when a new problem is being introduced with an eye to subsequent books in a series. But that has

as its purpose to arouse reader curiosity and leave it unfulfilled... until next time. For now, be sure

everything is tied up tight and send it on its way.