I just plunked down $17 for your book.
I’ve suspended disbelief.
I’m hanging on your every word.
I’ve committed time and energy to your work.
I want to like you.
No—you know what?
I want to love you.
I want to love your story.
I want to believe in you.
I want things to work out between us.
Don’t destroy all we have with a cliffhanger ending.
I adore a good series.
I love revisiting
I love knowing
I can trust an author
one satisfying story
Provide that for me and I will order everything from your backlist.
I will pre-order your next book, no matter how long it takes you to write it.
I will be devoted to you.
I will tell my friends about you.
I will gush and embarrass myself with how much I love you.
Play games with me?
Toy with me?
Withhold until. . .
I feed your publisher another $17. . .
or maybe another $17 after that?
Not only have you lost the sale, you’ve lost the fan.
I have a great deal of sympathy for beginning authors who don’t quite nail the ending.
Some of my favorites wobbled a bit with their first books.
I savored the improvement of their writing
from one novel to the next
they wrapped their stories
I reread the ending over and over
and cheered for them.
I’m not talking about the new author who may be a bit clumsy, but endearing.
I’m talking about the skilled professional
who could write a satisfying ending,
but chooses to court the dollar
and frustrate the reader.
I’d rather have the earnest, awkward fumbling
of someone who wants to please me
over and over again.
Now that’s a series.