In one of the interviews, Charles or Rebecca (can't remember who) gave an interesting response to a question about what they had learned over the course of their career. The gist of the remark was how in earlier times the songwriter was a little too keen to write a third verse. In some cases, just two verses would have done fine.
A similar idea came up on a trip I made earlier this year to NYC. We went to see an improv show a friend was performing in. After the show, we asked him about the experience. In his answer, he commented on the challenge of knowing when the skit was over.
Though the two remarks are not exactly related, they do share an underlying wisdom about endings. Endings are tough, a lesson I learn anew every time I log on to write these posts.
What adds to the challenge of ending a piece properly is how life barely prepares me to do it. In hindsight, I see how almost all things end when they start going badly. Ending a song, skit, or a piece of writing at the moment it turns south would do no good. By then, it is too late.
I recently came across a good rule of thumb for endings. In a short essay about writing, Paul Graham suggests 'when an ending appears, grab it'. It lacks the pageantry of 'THE END', I suppose, but if everything critical has already been said, there's not much need to carry on.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
0. Slow Club doesn't even know what Thanksgiving is...
Happy Thanksgiving, readers.
If you find yourself considered a third helping later...please refer to the advice above from Slow Club.
1. Allston, Texas?
Several years ago, I went to a party in South Boston with a friend visiting from Austin, Texas. He was talking to someone there when he heard someone say they lived in Allston.
He turned and said 'Austin? Oh yeah, I'm from Texas, too.'
'No- Allston. Like, next to Brighton.'
'Oh.'
My friend turned back to me.
'I thought she was talking about someplace cool.'
