The End.
That’s a funny way to start a beginning, isn’t it?
When it comes to stories… or blog posts… there’s an unspoken, yet understood, natural order to things. The order begins in the beginning, moves gracefully toward the climax, reaches the climax in an adrenaline-fueled thrill, coasts toward the ending on the wings of resolution and triumph, and then the finale bows with a definitive “The End.” This is just how it goes. I don’t make the rules, haha.
We, as humans, appreciate this dedicated order. We don’t have to question it, we don’t have to worry if it’ll be the same during the next book we pick up. We like it. Well… most of us.
I, on the other hand, just have to be different. For any one of you that have been crazy enough to read my writings here for any amount of time, you probably already know this fact. I tend, always, to be different. My style of book-reading attests only to the proof of that.
You see, I read the end of the book before I read the beginning. I want to know that the story finishes in a manner I’m satisfied with. I don’t want to waste my time trudging through a book that has a sad or disappointing ending. Thus, I read the end to know if I’m going to like how the middle plays out. Don’t worry, I’ve received plenty of light-hearted ridicule for this; even some well-played stabs at my impatience and need for control. On those latter character flaws, people are absolutely right. I find the other remarks mildly humorous, however. See, the thing is, all y’all do the exact same thing I do. I do it more visibly with books, but every single human being that has ever lived has tried, failed, and yearned to know what the end of their life-story will be. You want to know how it ends to see if maybe, just maybe, you can prepare differently, or manipulate the events of the middle enough to effect the ending. Maybe if we can glimpse at the final pages of our respective lives, maybe we can write a better story; a more heroic, daring, successful, romantic, idyllic story within the center chapters.
