And the final sentence is: “She held out her trembling hand to K. and had him sit down beside her, she spoke with great difficulty, it was difficult to understand her, but what she said”

Okay, so Franz Kafka had an excuse for ending his novel, The Castle (1926), midsentence. What was it? Well, he died. However, while readers were left dangling at the end of the incomplete sentence, many wondered if he would have added anything more to the story’s ending. We’ll never know.

There are writers still living at the completion of their novels who choose to finish midsentence. Why? And is it a viable option?

You, as a writer, have to remember that the last sentence is, or should be, the final closure. It’s what will make the reader think deeply about what they’ve just read and it will also, hopefully, make them want to read more of what you’ve written. The last sentence is the ribbon that adds the final touch to the gift-wrapping; the tape that holds it all together. If the sentence ends before it ends, then what? Have you made our point clear? Have you successfully concluded the long journey you began with those awesome first sentences?

Yes, the first sentence is what draws the reader into the book, and it’s what makes or breaks the story. Why? Because without a compelling first sentence, the reader may not go any further than that. However, a good first sentence and a compelling plot are only part of the maze of exceptional writing skills. The last sentence, a complete or incomplete sentence, is what the reader takes away with them. The last sentence is almost as important, if not as important, as the first sentence. It’s the anchor that keeps the story rooted in the reader’s memory.

So, should it be a complete sentence? Or an incomplete? You can’t all expect to have Kafka’s excuse and die before you complete the last sentence. Nor do you want that as your excuse.

Well, for starters, think of your novel as a complex musical composition, a symphony perhaps. Each has its compelling opening, development, resolution, and, hopefully, a grand finale. If the symphony ends on a flat, out-of-tune note, or stops abruptly in the middle of a musical phrase, it leaves the listener dissatisfied. Like the Kafka example, there are musical examples where the composer died before the work was completed, like Franz Schubert’s Symphony No. 8 in B minor, also known as the Unfinished Symphony. The Scherzo movement was nearly completed in the piano score, and composers since have tried to implement what they believed to be Schubert’s intention. But the cliff hanger that is left behind is unsettling. However, like Kafka, Schubert died before he could finish the work. As a result, both works are arguably unsatisfying for the audience (the reader or the music listener). And yet, both works make the audience think and discuss these works. The lack of closure, the lack of a complete ending, gives one pause to wonder. What if?

And why not! You begin your story with a hook that draws the reader into the story. You develop a compelling plot that keeps the reader engaged. You give the story a climax and a resolution. Now, you need to find the right words, complete or incomplete, to end the novel. Remember, however, that your ending must, like your opening, focus on the most important character in the story. Endings shouldn’t drag on and thus bore the reader. There must be some sort of closure to satisfy the reader, but leaving a dangling ending is okay, too, as long as you’ve provided enough to tie up the loose ends left over from the resolution.

There really are no precise rules for the closing sentence. However, you want it to be word perfect in every way possible. This is where the novelist becomes a poet and makes each word count; makes each word mean something significant. Simple words will suffice, as will an incomplete sentence. You want your reader to pause for a moment or two after finishing the book. You want your words to resonate for a long time afterward. You want them to have that ‘awe’ moment.

Like Nikolai Gogol’s final words of Dead Souls (1842): “I invite you to consider your duty more closely, and the obligation of your earthly service, because we all have only a dim idea of it now, and we hardly…”

Or Derek Nikitas’s ending for The Long Division (2009): “And he wasn’t afraid because death would never reach its final-”

And, on that note, remember: that is not the end, for the end is never…