I remember as a 6th grader my teacher read the class a book called Stuart Little. The thing is the book didn't have an actual ending. Stuart Little is driving his miniature car down the street in search of a bird and then; nothing.

For all we know he got run over by a steam roller. At the time I remember feeling cheated. Cheated by both the author and by our teacher for reading it to us. If you publish a book it should have an ending.

For those of you who complain that I never finish anything I have this to say. OK I get it.

Atreyu69 (imported) wrote: Fri Jun 04, 2021 7:29 pm I remember as a 6th grader my teacher read the class a book called Stuart Little. The thing is the book didn't have an actual ending. Stuart Little is driving his miniature car down the street in search of a bird and then; nothing.

For all we know he got run over by a steam roller. At the time I remember feeling cheated. Cheated by both the author and by our teacher for reading it to us. If you publish a book it should have an ending.

For those of you who complain that I never finish anything I have this to say. OK I get it.

Sir, you are too hard on yourself. Everyone understands that your literary works are not just stories. They are more like prose poetry. You will awaken certain feelings and emotions in the reader. The plot and so on, of course, matter, but as if in the background. It seems to me that any of your stories always has a moment of completion in a psychological aspect.

Now we know. You were traumatized by E.B. White!

I hated that book as a child. It made no sense to me. While my childhood brain thought that talking spiders and pigs, or swans with trumpets were just fine, I couldn't grasp a mouse being someone's "little brother".

While it's not related, two other books I hated were "Julie of the Wolves" and "The Viginian". My mom made me read both of them. I don't recall the endings; just that I thought they sucked.

As for White's works, though, at least the traumatizing "Charlotte's Web" ended!

I liked The Trumpet of the Swan because there was a boy in it and he did boy things. I thought Charlotte's Web was a girl's story.

Paolo wrote: Sat Jun 05, 2021 6:22 am Now we know. You were traumatized by E.B. White!

I hated that book as a child. It made no sense to me. While my childhood brain thought that talking spiders and pigs, or swans with trumpets were just fine, I couldn't grasp a mouse being someone's "little brother".

While it's not related, two other books I hated were "Julie of the Wolves" and "The Viginian". My mom made me read both of them. I don't recall the endings; just that I thought they sucked.

As for White's works, though, at least the traumatizing "Charlotte's Web" ended!

Watched the movie "Stuart Little" (USA,1999). George's parents are loonies!

For what it worth I still cum on your last work

Besides stories that peter out before resolving things, there are also stories that never seem to end, with new instalments coming every few days. I suppose the Thousand and One Nights is a good model for them, with yesterday's story resolving into a new cliffhanger today to be resolved tomorrow.

I do think stories that introduce interesting characters and dramatic situations, but that peter out before the dramatic arc is resolved, are more frustrating. But perhaps it is better to be left wanting more than never meeting the characters or their adventures at all.

For me, I'd rather wait until I see how the story is going to go, and read several chapters at once, rather than being frustrated waiting for the next episode... But that's just me. Authors need to do what authors need to do, and they are artists, so one can't always predict how things will go with them. We appreciate them all.

Atreyu69 (imported) wrote: Sat Jun 05, 2021 6:37 am I liked The Trumpet of the Swan because there was a boy in it and he did boy things. I thought Charlotte's Web was a girl's story.

Yes, I enjoyed it as well.

Dad read a lot and there were always books in the house, and when I was in the seventh grade I started in on The Carpetbaggers, by Harold Robbins. Just the thing a kid whose nuts had just dropped needed to be reading. I got halfway through it before Mom figured out what it was about and took it away from me. The library wouldn't loan it and I had to wait a few years to finish it.

It was about 8th grade that I found a copy of Everything You Wanted to Know about Sex, but Were Afraid to Ask in a rural, private trash dump here. By the time anyone knew I had it, I'd already read the whole thing. Twice.