So how does fantasy & science fiction compare to other fiction genres? Is its popularity trending up or down? My hunch based on my experiences in the industry would have been it was in the top two (or maybe three) most popular genres—but then I could be biased in my thinking because I write speculative fiction, read more speculative fiction than any other genre, and co-edit the speculative fiction magazine, Aurealis. I’m in contact with like-minded people daily. It’s easy to over-emphasise how widespread something is under those circumstances. Hunches are all well and good, but I decided to hunt up some recent statistics.

It proved quite tricky to do.

A survey of US readers by Statista last year asked people which genres they read regularly. These were the results. As you can see, people could nominate more than one genre.

Crime & Thriller   59%
Adventure             47%
Classics                  44%
Fantasy                  43%
Historic                  42%
Romance              42%
Science Fiction    42%
Literature             40%
Horror                    26%
Erotica                   12%
Other                       8%
Don’t know            1%

I don’t have access to the methodology or raw data behind this, but what struck me was that the top genre ‘Crime & Thriller’ was the only ‘double-barrelled’ category in the survey. I suppose it’s a natural association to combine the crime genre with the thriller genre, even though not every crime novel is a thriller, and not every thriller is a crime novel. However, wouldn’t the combining of fantasy & science fiction into one category for the purposes of this survey have been at least as natural? Most of the bookstores I’ve been to over the years pair the two. It’s been argued by some that fantasy & science fiction are both part of the continuum of speculative genre fiction. Others have maintained that genres should be defined by the primary emotion they intend to evoke, and that both fantasy & science fiction are part of what should be called the Wonder Genre. There’s even a line of argument that science fiction is actually a subset of fantasy. Whatever, the case, the two are clearly closely linked.

So what would the result have been if they had been classed as the one ‘Fantasy & Science Fiction’ category within the survey. Clearly, since the respondents were allowed to give more than one answer, you can’t simply add the two percentages together, but there’s no doubt combining the two results would have changed the results considerably, most likely putting ‘Fantasy & Science Fiction’ at number two, possibly even number one. It all comes down to how many people in the survey said they read science fiction regularly but not fantasy and vice versa.

​For those of you who don't know, I co-edit a fantasy and science fiction magazine called Aurealis. A number of years ago, when Aurealis was a print-only magazine, we regularly applied for grants from various government bodies such as the Australia Council and Arts Victoria. We were competing for funding with well-established literary magazines such as Meanjin, Overland and Quadrant. The funding always went directly to increasing author payment levels, so we felt it was worth the effort. It was always a difficult and time-consuming process to fulfil all the requirements of an application. We were successful on five occasions, but we also had a long string of unsuccessful applications. The biggest sticking point was always the requirement to demonstrate ‘literary merit.’ Surely only a reading of the stories can demonstrate that.
But that’s where a magazine of fantasy and science fiction is at a distinct disadvantage.
At the end of 2017 the results of a research project called The Genre Effect study were published in the journal Scientific Study of Literature. It was undertaken by Professors Chris Gavaler and Dan Johnson from Washington and Lee University.
Around 150 participants were given a text of 1000 words to read. Half were given a ‘literary’ version of the text and the other a ‘science fiction’ version. The texts were identical except in the literary version, the main character enters a diner while in the science fiction version, he enters a galley in a space station inhabited by aliens and androids as well as humans. The only differences between the two were setting-related. For example, the literary version used the word ‘door’ and the science fiction version used the word ‘airlock.’
After the reading, the participants were asked to comment on the literary merit of the story they had read. They were asked how much effort they spent trying to work out what the characters were feeling, and how much they agreed with statements such as ‘I felt like I could put myself in the shoes of the character in the story.’
The study exposed a self-fulfilling bias among literary readers against science fiction, demonstrating that science fiction is currently still unfairly viewed in academia.
Here are some of the results from the study:
‘Converting the text’s world to science fiction dramatically reduced perceptions of literary quality, despite the fact participants were reading the same story in terms of plot and character relationships.’ The readers of the science fiction version generally scored lower in comprehension. They ‘reported exerting greater effort to understand the world of the story, but less effort to understand the minds of the characters.’
The professors also reported that readers of the science fiction version of the story ‘appear to have expected an overall simpler story to comprehend, an expectation that overrode the actual qualities of the story itself… the science fiction setting triggered poorer overall reading and appears to predispose readers to a less effortful and comprehending mode of reading—or what we might term non-literary reading—regardless of the actual intrinsic difficulty of the text.’
Professor Gavaler says, ‘those who are biased against SF, thinking of it as an inferior genre of fiction, they assume the story will be less worthwhile, one that doesn’t require or reward careful reading, and so they read less attentively… It’s a self-fulfilling bias—except we can now show objectively that the weakness is with the reader, not the story itself.’ He adds, ‘if you’re stupid enough to be biased against SF you will read SF stupidly.’ He is interested in exploring this Genre Effect further and discovering whether fantasy tropes such as a sorcerer’s wand would have similar effects on readers.
These results are not a surprise to those of us who have been involved in science fiction publishing over the years and explains the issues we had when applying for grants in the past. As Professor Gavaler says, while it’s disappointing that these biases exist, at least now they’ve been exposed.

A version of this article appeared in Aurealis #114.

The first was Climate Fiction, that is, fiction that deals with climate change, often in a post-apocalyptic or dystopian future. The interesting thing about cli-fi, to use the slightly dismissive abbreviation commonly used, is that it is taken seriously by the mainstream. The literary establishment has embraced it, and it gets reviewed in the mainstream press. People base their PhDs on it. It has status as ‘literature’ and isn’t dismissed the way a lot of science fiction still is.
While the literary establishment has recently discovered cli-fi and bestowed a sense of worthiness on it, Climate Fiction has, of course, been around for some time as part of the science fiction landscape. Australian author George Turner wrote the quintessential cli-fi novel well before it was a recognised subgenre of science fiction. His The Sea and Summer (The Drowning Towers in the US) was set in a world where global warming had resulted in a Melbourne landscape that was largely underwater. It was published in 1987 and won the Arthur C Clarke Award and was nominated for a Nebula.
​
Climate Fiction is making an impact in the major SF awards. Out of the six Hugo Finalists for Best Novel this year, two were clearly cli-fi: New York 2140, by Kim Stanley Robinson and The Stone Sky, by N K Jemisin (technically science fantasy). Other major Climate Fiction novels in recent years include Margaret Atwood’s Maddaddam and Paolo Bacigalupi’s The Water Knife. Three recent Aurealis Awards Finalists also fall into the category: Clade by James Bradley, Lotus Blue by Cat Sparks, and Daniel Findlay’s Year of the Orphan.

The second trend was the New Space Opera. ‘Space opera’ was originally a somewhat disparaging name, deriving from a comparison with ‘soap operas’ and suggesting grand, melodramatic themes. It involved large-scale, fast-paced science fiction adventure featuring space warfare, alien races and intelligent machines. Often it had a military aspect to it, although the main character focus was on civilians. Brian Aldiss once said, ‘Science fiction is for real, space opera is for fun.’
​
The New Space Opera is still fun on a grand scale, set in space, exciting, fast-paced, but it’s also usually more scientifically rigorous, more literary, has more emphasis on character development, and addresses social issues of race, gender, class and postcolonialism. The term was coined in the 2007 anthology The New Space Opera edited by Gardner Dozois and Jonathan Strahan. Notable novels that fall into this subgenre are Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice winner of the 2014 Hugo Best Novel, Kameron Hurley’s The Stars Are Legion, Yoon Ha Lee’s The Raven Stratagem, a Best Novel Finalist in this year’s Hugos, and The Expanse series by James S A Corey. The New Space Opera has also been invading Young Adult books with such novels as Illuminae by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff, the 2015 Aurealis Award Best SF novel winner.​

What better way to celebrate our hundredth issue of Aurealis – Australian Fantasy & Science Fiction than to publish Aurealis #100 as a limited edition print issue (in addition to the usual digital version). Aurealis #100 will be much bigger than our normal issue, with eight stories, three articles, plus book reviews. In fact, it will be our biggest ever single issue.

We decided to go back to everyone that was still contactable who appeared in Aurealis #1 in 1990 and ask them for a story for this hundredth issue.  Plus there are some surprises. Here's the Contents list:

• From the Cloud 1 — Dirk Strasser
• From the Cloud 2 — Stephen Higgins
• From the Cloud 3 — Michael Pryor
• The Cavity -- David Tansey
• Shimmerflowers -- Michael Pryor
• The Mandelbrot Bet -- Dirk Strasser
• The Bewitching of Dr Travidian -- Geoffrey Maloney
• The Madlock Chair -- Terry Dowling
• All We Have is Us -- Alex Isle
• Forest/Trees -- Stephen Higgins
• Mayfire -- Rebecca Birch
• The History and Future of Aurealis: An Interview with Dirk Strasser — Chris Large
• Robotics, AI and the Impending Techno-Apocalypse — Terry Wood
• Secret History of Australia--Archibald Cistoon—Researched by Michael Pryor
• Reviews

Aurealis #100 will be launched at the Science for Science Fiction conference (Sunday 30 April 2017 8:30 am – 5:00 pm at 8 La Trobe Street Melbourne) which The Royal Society of Victoria is running in partnership with Aurealis magazine (and supported by the Emerging Writer's Festival).

It’s a conference for new and established authors of science fiction where you can learn valuable writing techniques and draw inspiration from real scientists such as Dr Alan Duffy, regular guest on The Project who was named as one of Australia's Science Superheroes by the Australia’s Chief Scientist. ​

​You can’t control a work of fiction after it’s been published. Once it has found a readership, it belongs to the readers as much as it belongs to the writer. I was made profoundly aware of this some time ago in relation to my own writing when I came across an online German article Lucid Dreaming that featured an interview with a musician called Till Oberbossel. Here’s my translation of the last question and response from the interview:
 
You’re a widely read fantasy nerd and have read many series in English. So, apart from the well-known ones such as Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, etc, which do you think are good and why?

I enjoy reading and love fantasy, although I also read across many other areas. As far as fantasy is concerned, Tolkien's works and, of course, the Chronicles of Prydain are my favourites. It’s hard coming up with reasons for my preferences. If a novel or series grips me I don’t usually try to work out why. If I feel comfortable in the fantasy world, I stay there like a while. Apart from the ones I’ve mentioned, the others I’ve really enjoyed are: the Conan stories of Robert E Howard, the Books of Ascension trilogy by Dirk Strasser (by the way, there will be a song on the next Elvenpath album based on this), the Death Gate Cycle series by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, and not least the Discworld novels by Terry Pratchett. I love them dearly. Thanks for the interview, for your interest in Lucid Dreaming and allowing me to present my music here… Support the Underground and stay Metal!

Whoa! I did a double take. The words ‘there will be a song on the next Elvenpath album based on this’ really floored me. A song based on my trilogy? Wow! Something I had written had actually inspired a musician to write a song. I knew the Books of Ascension had been published in German in 2001, but for the series to percolate in someone’s mind all this time and to emerge in musical form is mind-boggling.

I contacted Till via his band’s website to wish him luck and saying I would love to hear the song. He seemed almost as surprised to hear from me as I was to see my trilogy mentioned in his interview. He sent me the lyrics and a copy of the Elvenpath CD Pieces of Fate when it was released in 2015.

So, what sort of music is inspired by fantasy fiction? The only music I was aware of was the acoustic, lyrical, floating-through-the-ether sort of melodies. This band’s elvenpath is completely different. Their music is power metal. So for those of you who aren’t familiar with the term (as I wasn’t when I first came across it—AC/DC is about as metal as I’ve ever been): power metal is type of heavy metal with an elevating anthem-like sound. Like the epic fantasies that inspires it, power metal strives for an epic sound. If Elevenpath are typical, then the vocalists can sing in a high register and have a wide range, and the guitarists have a high level of technical proficiency.

And above all their lyrics are in synch with high fantasy sensibility. They are both evocative and powerful. Here’s an example from Mountain of Sorrows, the song based on the Books of Ascension:
 
When night conquers the daylight and winter calls our names
Our roads will differ, will fate be the same

Storms cross my pathways, pillars of stone
And many a strange sight I see
Puppets and demons, warriors and masks
They reveal the dark side to me

Cloisters of silence, houses of life
The mountain is standing, who knows what’s inside
Amazone warriors attack in the night
The hour has come when steel will shine bright

Mountain of sorrows, grown of fear and lies
I’ll climb you forever though blood be the price
Mountain of sorrows, made of doom and fraud
Beware the ascension of him who’ll be god

The lyrics are potent and poetic. None of these words are mine, yet they have grasped the essence my novels. There’s no doubt Till Oberbossel gets fantasy. And to write this sort of stuff in what isn’t his first language takes impressive skill.

If you had told me all those years ago when I started to write Zenith—The First Book of Ascension, that a power metal band from Frankfurt, Germany, would be opening their new album with a song based on my work, I would have bet my house on it not happening. You just can’t tell what sort of life your fiction will lead once you’ve given birth to it.
  
If you like epic fantasy, have a listen to Elvenpath’s Mountain of Sorrows, Battlefield of Heaven and Queen Millennia from the Pieces of Fate album. And remember. Stay Metal!

This first appeared as an Editorial in Aurealis #88.

​Traditionally high fantasy has been the battleground between good and evil. At the centre of the conflict is the personification of the ultimate evil: The Dark Lord, the Shadow, Sauron, Morgoth, Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  But the Dark Lord usually doesn’t engage in battle directly. He leaves this to his minions. Creatures born of evil are the Dark Lord’s foot soldiers: Orcs, goblins, Uruk-Hai, trolls and balrogs. And who usually lines up against them?  Humans. Often conflicted humans. People who are noble and brave, but also cowardly and corruptible. People who are wise but can also be foolish.  People who need to find the best in themselves to defeat the ultimate evil. It’s not hard to see why this sort of fantasy has come to dominate popular culture. Who can resist the ultimate battle? Who doesn’t want to see the Dark Lord defeated? The stakes are higher in high fantasy than in any other literature.

Serious problems, however, occur when the concepts underpinning the high fantasy battleground start to leach into real life; when the equivalents of Dark Lords and Orcs make their way into politics. In September 2015, former Australian Prime Minister Tony Abbott got himself into all sorts of trouble speaking about ‘different levels of evil’ when comparing IS behaviour with historical atrocities. That was on top of his analysis of the Syrian civil war as ‘It’s not goodies versus baddies, it’s baddies versus baddies!’

Of course, the prince of the high fantasy approach to real world problems was the US President George W Bush, when, in his State of the Union address, he first identified the ‘Axis of Evil:’ Iran, Iraq, and North Korea. He went on to make many high fantasy references during his presidency, including

‘The evil ones have roused a might nation, a mighty land.’ 12 November 2001

‘We're determined to fight this evil... We act now, because we must lift this dark threat from our age and save generations to come.’ 6 November 2001

‘Our struggle is going to be long and difficult. But we will prevail. We will win. Good will overcome evil… we are fighting evil, and we will continue to fight evil, and we will not stop until we defeat evil.’ 2 November 2001
​
‘This will be a monumental struggle of good versus evil. But good will prevail.’ 12 September 2001

In April 2003, the US Government passed up Iran’s proposed concessions, which included making peace with Israel, saying ‘We don’t speak to evil.’ Really? Iranians are evil? Created that way like Orcs, as a perversion of humanity by the Dark Lord?

History is littered with people who have done appalling things, totally convinced that they are right. The problem with treating people like Orcs is that it bestows the moral right to do absolutely anything to them. To be ruthless in unconditional certainty. No discussion. End of story.
But it shouldn’t be the end of the story.

We should all heed the warning sirens any time a politician starts talking about evil. Don’t let it go unchallenged. Real life isn’t high fantasy. It’s not hard to keep the two separate. None of us has been created by a Dark Lord. People aren’t Orcs. #PeopleArentOrcs

This blog appeared as an Editorial in Aurealis #87.

​A few years ago one of the major banks in Australia ran a series of advertisements which featured time travelling.  It involved a number of people meeting their future selves and being congratulated by them for wise investment decisions they had made.  I remember these advertisements annoyed me intensely.  It took me a while to work out why I was reacting so strongly.  I finally came to the conclusion that they irritated me so much because I felt that the speculative fiction genre was being sullied by being used by large corporations to manipulate people for commercial gain.  Time travel is one of my favourite sub-genres and to see its emotional impact and resonance being used to increase bank profits was offensive.
 
I’ve since come across speculative fiction tropes and references everywhere in the general media.  I’ve seen articles in the financial pages of major newspapers referring  to “my precious” in relation to market motivations and “winter is coming” in terms of a slide in economic indices.  Really?  Is that what the power of fantasy and science fiction should be used for?  To comment on the Dow Jones?
 
I guess we should be flattered.  The Eye of Sauron is now everywhere.  Speculative fiction was once seen as a ghetto – a glorious golden ghetto, but a ghetto nonetheless.  A place where outcasts eeked out an existence.  A dark corner for the literary impoverished, the room under the stairs for the writers and readers who couldn’t breathe in the mainstream.
 
That has all changed.  Speculative fiction has transformed into humanity’s overarching narrative.  Our genre has not just become the mainstream, it is now the prism through which the world is seen.
 
In a Time magazine article earlier this year, Lev Grossman wrote:
 
Something odd happened to popular culture somewhere around the turn of the millennium… somewhere around 2000 a shifting of the tectonic plates occurred. The great eye of Sauron swivelled, and we began to pay attention to other things. What we paid attention to was magic. … Fantasy wasn’t a fringe phenomenon anymore. It had become one of the great pillars of popular culture and, increasingly, the way we tell stories now.
 
Maybe we should be cheering that we’ve won, that we’ve cast our spell over the muggles and they now all see what we’ve always seen.  And yet, somehow I feel if we’re not careful we’re in danger of being subsumed by corporate wraiths who want to use the magical power for their own evil ends.  To make all of us do things we wouldn’t otherwise choose to do.  To cast a spell to sell their products.  To make us believe things that aren’t true.
 
Let’s be vigilant and call out when speculative fiction is being used to manipulate.  The genie might be out of the bottle, but hopefully we can find the right words for the spell to shove it back.

A version of this appeared in Aurealis #86.

I was beginning to wonder if it was me. Had I become jaded or would I still enjoy the aliens from the past?  I decided to put it to a test. The most exotic planet and inscrutable aliens I can remember from my early reading was Robert Silverberg’s Downward to the Earth. They don’t write ‘em like that any more! Not one but two sentient species, with a strange mutual relationship that humans couldn’t figure out. Huge elephant-like nildoror  and human-like but brutish sulidoror who were clearly subservient to the more intelligent species. And all of this on a planet dripping with exotica: jungles with parasitic fauna so far off the bizarre scale you need to come up with a new word to describe them, mysterious mist regions from which humans were banned travelling for unfathomable reasons, and an enigmatic protagonist who has returned to make up for the sins he committed during his first stay during the planet’s colonial past.
 
So I reread Downward to the Earth with a little trepidation. Was the meld of brooding beauty, mysterious motivations and grotesquerie still there?  I more than half-expected I’d be disappointed and was a little surprised when I again felt the full brunt of its exotica. I was again immersed in the sheer alien-ness of the world and its two species. And the full force of the story had, if anything, even more impact. I was unaware of the Heart of Darkness allusions first time around, but on this reading they gave it more depth. For me the protagonist now seemed far more complex, his motives more tortured, the climax more profound. The world is the most vivid I’ve seen in science fiction. I can only hope that this Silverberg masterpiece finally  makes it to the screen.
 
At least I know now it’s not that I’ve changed or that these stories have lost their power. The exotic aliens haven’t been pushed into extinction.   I’m looking forward to discovering some more life forms.

A version of this appeared in Aurealis #85.

Ever felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of books on your “to-read” pile? If you really want to feel the weight of unread books on your shoulders, try working out the actual number of books you’ll simply never get to read in your lifetime, no matter how quickly you read.

I don’t think my actual reading speed is slow, but I don’t get through anywhere near as many books as some of the avid readers I’ve come across. Maybe I’m unusual, but I like to savour books. I don’t want the good ones to end, so I tend not to whip through them in a couple of days. I’ve never read a book in one sitting. But the main reason is I simply don’t have the time or the energy. Other things often get in the way of sustained reading, and my eyes just won’t stay open for that long at night after a typical exhausting day. I know a number of people who consistently get through several books a week. I’m afraid my average would be several weeks per book.

Of course, it’s not a competition, but I sometimes wonder about all the great books I’ll probably never get to read. Is that true of everyone? Even the most voracious reader can only skim the surface of the massive depths of published books.

Here are some staggering facts about the number of books being published. As reported in the recent Frankfurt Book Fair, Bowker’s “Books in Print” (which despite the name includes eBooks) estimates that the total number of books in print in English in 2013 hit 28 million. That’s right, 28 million! The report also states this involves approximately 9 million authors.

These figures calculated by Bowker are based on all the titles with ISBNs in the US, UK, Australia. What’s scary is that, in my view, this means the actual number is probably significantly higher. The Bowker calculation doesn’t cover all the English language publishing in the world in 2013. I’m not sure whether Bowker have extrapolated their figures, but clearly when you consider all the other English-publishing countries (such as Canada, New Zealand, South Africa and India) en masse, it suggests Bowker’s figures may be conservative. For example, the Federation of Indian Chambers of Commerce has estimated that India is the world’s 3rd largest English language publisher.

There is another factor which may mean that Bowker’s 28 million estimate is probably too low. For books sold exclusively through Amazon’s Kindle store, you don’t need an ISBN – all that’s required is an Amazon-assigned ASIN number. Given the size of Amazon and its self-publishing program, this means a significant number of books haven’t been accounted for if only ISBNs were tallied.

And it’s not like this figure remains static. The pile of world books sitting next to our collective beds continues to grow each year. Again, according to a Bowker report, in 2013 in the United States alone, around 390,000 new ISBNs were taken by the self-published authors and 300,000 by the traditional publishers.

Does that make you feel better or worse about the books you haven’t read?

They say life is a journey, not a destination.  Can the same be said about a novel?  How important is the ending in a work of fiction?  How important is the telling along the way?

My initial reaction to this question would be to say, a work of fiction should be an organic whole, and you can’t really love the book unless you love the ending.  How a book finishes is how you end up viewing the book, and because the ending is the last thing you read, it stays with you and colours everything else.

Here are some of the most famous endings from speculative fiction (including a few spoilers):

He loved Big Brother.
–Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell

I am Legend.
–I am Legend, Richard Matheson

He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.
–Frankenstein, Mary Shelley

“How strange are the ways of the gods!” he gasped. “How cruel.”
–Soldier of the Mist, Gene Wolfe.

Good-bye and hello, as always.
–The Courts of Chaos, Roger Zelazny

Overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out.
–“The Nine Billion Names of God”, Arthur C Clarke

I have no mouth. And I must scream.
–“I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”, Harlan Ellison

A LAST NOTE FROM YOUR NARRATOR
I am haunted by humans.”
–The Book Thief, Markus Zusak

He climbed in and fitted the thole pins into the oarlocks, and after three strong strokes he was well out onto the face of the river. And as he rowed on, toward whatever might prove to be the true destiny of the man who'd been Brendan Doyle and Dumb Tom and Eshvlis the cobbler and William Ashbless, and was not any of them any longer, he regaled the river birds with every Beatles song he could remember... except Yesterday.
–The Anubis Gates, Tim Powers

P.S. please tel prof Nemur not to be such a grouch when pepul laff at him and he woud have more frends. Its easy to have frends if you let pepul laff at you. Im going to have lots of frends where I go.
P.S. please if you get a chanse put some flowrs on Algernons grave in the bak yard.
–Flowers for Algernon, Daniel Keyes

How do these compare to some of the classic endings outside the genre:

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
–The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

“The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky – seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.”
–The Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”
–A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens

There’s no doubt a poor ending ruins the reading experience and will cause a reader to be disappointed in the book even if they had enjoyed it up until then.  But what happens if the ending is just okay?  Does an ending have to be great for the book to be great?

I don’t think the answer to this question is as obvious as it seems.  Let’s have a look at a series none of us yet know the ending of: George R R Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire/ Game of Thrones.  Are we going to judge this series by its ending?  Does it really matter which of the many options Martin has left open is the one he will ultimately choose?  I doubt if he’ll choose a stinker of an ending, but after so much intrigue and drama and surprises, won’t we most likely feel just a little flat no matter what he picks?  And if we do, will his choice somehow negate everything that’s appeared in the seven (or eight) books?

Is it possible that sometimes a work is so good an ending can’t possible live up to it?  Kafka said that past a certain point in a novel, a writer could decide to finish the work at any moment, with any sentence, claiming it was like deciding where to cut a piece string.  This may have some truth to it when it comes to character-driven novels, but surely it can’t apply to plot-driven novels?  Or maybe it applies to literary novels rather than genre novels?

Then I started thinking about a number of my favourite writers and their works.  Stephen King, for example, is one of the most successful writers of all time, but even his biggest fans would agree that most of the endings in his novels are pretty weak.  His strengths are in the things he does along the way.  How he portrays terror and tension, how he builds different elements into a powerful story, the characters, the relationships between children and adults, and his evocation of the time and place where he grew up.  However, despite all this, his books often just limp home at the end.

Philip José Farmer’s Riverworld series has every person who ever lived suddenly being resurrected on the banks of a giant river.  The series explores the interactions of different historical figures and cultures.  It’s a fascinating work, but the eventual explanation of who is doing this and why almost inevitably has to be a letdown because the setup is so brilliant.  I get a similar feeling with James Dashner’s Maze Runner series.  To me the revealed reasons the boys are in the maze are far less compelling than the story of how they seek to make sense of the situation they find themselves in.  The journey is greater than the destination.

If you still think that a book can only be great if it has a great ending, think about how often you’ve ever recommended a novel by saying, you’ve got to read this because it’s got a great ending.