It’s been a week since our trip from the mountains down into the Portland metropolitan nexus with Charlie the Lab. My experience in the finely-tuned machinery of the vet clinic we took him to is something I’ve thought about – which means written about, because that’s part of the way I think things through – and I’m done with it now.
A lot of those written thoughts will join volumes of others in what I generously refer to as “personal archives.” It’s actually a dead-letter box stuffed with… dead letters. Tomes and tomes of missives written to myself and then put away.
One thing I will share is this: never end a piece of writing with the phrase “more to come.” An exception to that would be if it’s the end of a story that you don’t care to end, or if you intend to remind your reader that there is always more to come after every story:
“So the Prince and Princess were married in the castle on the pyramid of dragon heads while the people of the kingdom rejoiced and the evil wizard swung like a circular metronome from the palace gibbet.
“More to come.”
Let’s all just carry on with our lives now.