Was it all a dream? Did they die at the end?
Sometimes it’s fun to leave readers wondering.
Let’s look at some ambiguous endings, see what works, then try writing our own together!
During the last stream, the subscribers voted that we go over how to write an ambiguous ending.
Watch a short version of the stream here or scroll down for what we wrote.
How to Write an Ambiguous Ending
- Lots of stories have ambiguous endings, and they can come in many different flavors
- There are ambiguous endings that make you wonder if the main character dies or not (like in The Giver), ambiguous endings that make you wonder if the story was real or not (like in Life of Pi), or ambiguous endings that just make you go WTF (like in 2001: A Space Odyssey)
- But how do you craft a good ambiguous ending? And what stories want them in the first place?
- Let’s go over 3 pointers, then write our own together!
#1. An ambiguous end still needs a full story before it
- Don’t just make the ending ambiguous because you don’t know how to end it, or to purposefully tease the reader
- There still needs to be a good beginning, middle, and climax leading up the ambiguous ending, it can’t just cut out partway through
- For example: Fight Club (the book) has an ambiguous ending, as to whether or not the main character killed himself, but there’s still a satisfying climax before that
- Another example: The Thing has an ambiguous ending, as to whether or not the alien escapes the arctic and infects the world, but there’s still a satisfying climax before that
#2. An ambiguous end needs to fit with the tone of the story
- If you’re writing a straightforward story, like a thriller or a mystery or a romance or a fantasy adventure, then chances are an ambiguous ending won’t really fit
- An ambiguous ending at the end of a straightforward story will likely disappoint readers, but an ambiguous ending at the end of a more complex story could be satisfying
- For example: if at the end of Aladdin, we don’t know if Aladdin makes the wish to free the Genie or not, that would kind of suck, since it was a normal story up to then
- However if the story’s plot is about ambiguity/not knowing things, then an ambiguous ending could work
- Like how some characters don’t know if they’re dreaming or not in Inception, and we don’t know if the ending is a dream or not either
- Or if your story has dark themes, and a happy ending would feel out of place, an ambiguous ending can still feel dark without taking away all hope
- Like the ending of The Handmaid’s Tale, where we don’t know the fate of the main character, if she’s saved by rebels or taken in by the Eyes
#3. An ambiguous end should be the point of the entire story
- Ideally, in a story with an ambiguous ending, the whole story should be based around the ambiguous ending
- It should leave the reading wondering what choice they would make in the same circumstances
- For example: Life of Pi needs its ambiguous ending. The story isn’t about a man lost at sea with some animals, it’s about belief in god. Do you choose to believe the fun story with the animals, or the realistic one with people?
- Without the ambiguous ending, it becomes a generic survival story
- In 2001: A Space Odyssey, the ambiguous ending shows that the next evolutionary step for humans is beyond our comprehension. It feels like you’re going through it.
- Without the ambiguous ending, it’s just an okay sci-fi film, nothing that would really stick with people
- Lots of Dr. Seuss books do this as well. The Butter Battle Book ends with a stalemate between two sides that can annihilate each other, asking you what to do. And The Lorax ends with a chance to repopulate the trees, depending on what you choose to do
- If those books had happy endings, then readers would not feel compelled to change their lives, which is the entire purpose of those books
In Summary!
An ambiguous ending needs 3 things:
- A full story leading up to it, including a satisfying climax
- It needs to fit with the tone of the story
- It should be the entire point of the story, and should make the reader wonder what choice they’d make
After that, chat voted on this prompt for us to write a story with an ambiguous ending for: You don’t learn much about the other person if you don’t have a copy of the person’s favorite book in your library.
Here’s what we came up with:
The best way to learn about someone is by reading all their favorite books. Or at least, that’s my theory, and it’s working pretty damn well for getting to know Stacy Adams.
She’s only one grade ahead of me, but to me, it’s always felt like she’s been my mother. That one time, in middle school, she saw me sitting without a lunch — like I did every day — and she gave me some spare change to buy a PopTart from the vending machine. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.
But it wasn’t just me she was kind to. Stacy helped run bake sales at the church, she’d volunteer at the animal shelter, even spend a precious Saturday hour each week chatting with old man Jeb by his farm stand, usually the only customer he got.
I knew all this because I followed her around. It’s not like I was wanted at home, so I did my best to stay in Stacy’s shadow all the time. I figured if I could act like her, then I could become more like her too.
And that included reading her favorite books. After Stacy made her monthly trip to the library and dropped them off in the bin, I’d snatch them right back out and borrow them myself. Aside from Pony Pals and the Babysitter’s Club, she had a few other interesting choices. Apparently she was a fan of the classics. A Tale of Two Cities, Jane Eyre, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
I didn’t even like the books that much, but the fact that Stacy loved them made me tear through all of them voraciously.
I could tell the ones she really liked, because her scent lingered on the pages. Roses and a hint of orange. Sometimes I would open up a page, and a gentle cloud of Stacy would waft up from it. I couldn’t help but shove my nostrils right into the spine and inhale her deep inside me.
Those smells were treasure maps, leading me to the exact composition of Stacy’s makeup. I would sit in my room, Stacy open in my lap, staring in my mirror as I tried powder after powder, lipstick after lipstick, tossing the failures aside, and licking the successes off my lips. Staring at my reflection, sometimes I would see more Stacy than me. Those were the only times I was happy.
I needed to tell her how much of a difference she’d made in my life. I couldn’t just sit idly by anymore. Stacy and I were destined to be best friends, she just didn’t know it yet. It would be so easy for us to be besties: we had all the same interests now, the same taste in everything.
And to make our meeting even better, I’d dressed up exactly like her. A bright floral sundress with a cardigan, matching flower earrings, and a baby blue headband. I even dyed my hair to Stacy’s dirty blonde, not that anything about her — or me — was dirty at all. We were twinsies! I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
Tuesday night, Stacy’s time to return her library books. I waited off to the side of the building, away from the parking lot lights, until she pulled in riding her bike, the basket full of books. For the first time, I’d ask her personally what she thought of them. We could discuss them together, maybe go inside for a book club!
When Stacy parked her bike and walked up to the return bin, that was my cue. I emerged from the darkness and stepped into the dim library light, beaming at her. I called out her name, but I was nervous it came out as more of a raspy whisper than the love-call that I’d practiced.
Stacy spun on her heel and shrieked, dropping her books to the concrete. She covered her mouth with one hand, then thrust the other at me accusingly.
“You stay the hell back,” she said. “I know you’ve been following me, copying me, and it’s creepy as shit.”
This was not how any of the conversations I’d practiced had gone. Sure, there was the one where Stacy was surprised to see me, but she definitely didn’t swear in that one.
I tried to ask her if we could go inside, just sit and chat like best friends, but she didn’t even give me the chance. She reached for her book from the ground, and started tossing them at me one by one, banging their sharp corners against my arms and stomach.
“You creepy bitch!” she cried. “Get the hell away from me!”
This wasn’t Stacy. This was a monster. The girl who helped me, who helped everyone, she would never do something like this. This… thing, she didn’t deserve to be Stacy at all.
“I’m calling the police,” she said, taking her phone out of her purse. “They’ll deal with you, so I don’t have to anymore.”
I never really saw it before, since I’d only really seen Stacy from a distance, but up close she was much less pretty. Her makeup wasn’t even good tonight; she didn’t even try. She’d forgotten the faint spritz of orange, but I hadn’t. I was more Stacy than she was!
I made my move. I grabbed the thickest book from the return bin, held it with both hands, and crashed it down hard against Stacy’s skull.
She didn’t even so much as whine. Her phone clacking to the ground made more sound than she did. Only a gurgle was coming out of her mouth as a trail of blood dripped out of her scalp. I grabbed onto her legs, dragged her to the darkened side of the library, and knelt down to check her pulse.
Her fist clocked me right in the face. I tasted sweet iron flood up and out my nose, as Stacy breathed hard and reeled back for another hit. The world was dizzy and swaying, but I slapped her fist away, and grabbed onto her neck, choking her, as she grabbed onto mine.
Both of us, locked in each other’s arms, hissing out blood from our matching lips. Breathing was nothing but fire in my chest, but it didn’t stop me from gripping harder, harder, until my vision fuzzed and fizzled, then snapped to black.
***
Steubenville, OH. The small midwestern town is still reeling from the death of one of its young residents, Theodora Sack, aged seventeen. She was allegedly murdered in self-defense by her upperclassman Stacy Adams, age eighteen, during an altercation which took place at approximately 7:40pm behind the Steubenville Library.
Theodora lived alone with her mother, who could not be reached for comment. Stacy’s parents are simply glad their daughter is alive, and will not be pressing charges against the Sack family.
“It’s just a sad situation,” Stacy told The Buckeye Gazette. Her face still showed signs of the attack, blue and black wounds puddling her face and neck. “That poor girl. She dressed up like me, acted like me. She wanted to be me. I just don’t get it.”
Hopefully this community will be able to move past this unfortunate situation, and come out of it stronger on the other side. Stacy told us that she is still planning on heading the St. Mary’s church bake sale next week, and will say a prayer for the lost Theodora.
Oh snap, who survived the altercation? Was it the real Stacy? Or Theodora pretending to be Stacy? Either way, be sure to check out the video for a dramatic reading!
If you want to join us and help write a story by trolling in chat, or share your own writing for feedback, then we’d love to have you join us on Twitch.
And you missed the stream, you can still watch them on the YouTube channel or watch the full stream reruns.
Hope to see you next time, friend!
