I’m one of those readers who enjoys an epilogue. I like it if a story ends satisfactorily, but I always like to find out what came “after.” Do the two 
protagonists become engaged? Once they’re married are they happy? Do they have children? It seems that children or the announcement of a pregnancy are routinely in the epilogue of historical romances, and I like that little bit extra. It’s like biting into a chocolate—really good in itself—and finding a caramel filling that you didn’t expect. A step beyond satisfying and into the realm of happy.
Writer’s Digest gives six reasons why an epilogue is used effectively:
- Tying up loose ends when the story itself ends abruptly.
- To highlight the lessons told in the story and letting the reader know that justice has been done.
- Detailing information not covered in the story, as in if a character is sick or circumstances are left unfinished.
- Explaining a future for the characters.
- Using a secondary character to explain circumstances and thus make the story more realistic.
- Outlining futures for a large cast of characters.
I think all epilogues are used to answer the emotional questions a reader might have, though. And since I like romance, an emotional finish to a tale
is what I long to read. I have used them myself, and even enjoy reading them then. 😉
So, hooray for epilogues! Long may they live!
Dee
Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!
an example of how I look when I go into the office for a couple hours at the keyboard. Hair coiffed, mani/ pedi done to perfection, fuck me stilettos, and designer gown. And let’s not forget the special illumination that shows off the highlights in my hair.
and bunny slippers. Because after all, what’s the point of working from home if you can’t be comfortable?? When I give up the pajamas, I like loose-fitting pants, a tee shirt, a wrap over my shoulders and upper arms, and yes, slippers. This is why I don’t hie off to Starbuck’s to write—they frown on bunny slippers.
listen to a particular song. In fact, I don’t really have a writing ritual. Usually I go back and read the last thing I wrote and then plan in my mind what would come next. In fact, this planning is so minuscule that it doesn’t even really count as planning.
need organizing particular things to wear (“clothes to write in…”) because that’s too much trouble. Surrounding myself with inspirational photos and books won’t work because there’s too little space in the office for such things. And besides, what about when I write in the living room using my Alphasmart or the laptop?
nose. What I can do is recite a conversation word-for-word, complete with gestures and intonation. Unless I become an informant for the FBI or a spy, what good is that?
mom, aunt, and I get together, we have fun—harmless fun, since “news” never goes beyond the three of us—sharing what we know about other people. What better time to let my talent shine than then?
point, I think I had 300 cookbooks. Whenever any family member traveled anywhere, they knew what to bring back for my collection. I read them like novels and used them often. In the same line, I collected 
Banks, a red phone box from London, a variety of stocking stuffer magnets, and one I kept from my mother-in-law when she died: “Dull women keep immaculate houses.” And so many more! Each magnet brought back memories. But two moves back, I think I lost the box. So temporarily, I’ve given up collecting anything. It’s not a bad thing. Now I’ve taken to giving away items I have for other people’s collections. It’s just as fun!
trucking years ago and saw almond trees up close and personal in California. They’re very pretty. But what they produce is even better.
All I know is, almonds crunch, they taste good, and they help me get past that hunger stage when I’m too close to dinner to eat more. A great snack that isn’t a secret anymore!
ween them.
So my biggest fear is water. I don’t like it. It’s okay to bathe in or drink, and I don’t break out into hives or anything when I’m near it, but all things being equal, I’d just as soon stay away at a distance from any large bodies of it. When I was growing up in Virginia Beach I used to go to the beach and even went out into the ocean—up to my waist, maybe—and cousins and I used to “swim” in the James River, but would I ever willingly go out to where I couldn’t see land? Um…no. All of those cruise ships you see advertised on TV? They are safe from ever having me as a passenger. My dad made me take swimming in college, and I was not even a happy camper in a pool. So when those same commercials show a cruise ship at sea and people frolicking in a pool, it’s like a double whammy for me.
perhaps I was a Roman galley slave, lost in a sea battle. Or maybe I was a Norse child who stepped foot in the north Atlantic and was taken by the Kraken. Who knows? I only see the result of those events.
Mediterranean, I did enjoy going out whale watching a few years ago in San Diego—within sight of the shore, of course. I absolutely cannot imagine my dad’s life, standing watch on board ship with nothing around him but water. That’s too much “Water, water, everywhere/Nor any drop to drink.” (Coleridge) Imagining that actually does give me hives!
Ever since I first heard “Moon River” by Henry Mancini and Johnny Mercer, I’ve been in love with it. It’s definitely my theme song and here’s why.
of life hubby and I planned. We’ve lived the life we wanted (and still are!), and no song represents us more than this one.