I love a happy ending. For me, novels can be an escape from the harsh realities of life. I enjoy entering the world a novelist creates and becoming engaged by the characters and their lives. If the novelist has done her job well, I come to care for the characters and hope the “good guys” enjoy a happy ending. For the most part, the novels I’ve read this year have ended happily, but not all. Stephen King’s Insomnia has a sad ending because one character finds much-deserved happiness only to have it yanked away prematurely. Too bad. I was rooting for him. Lucha Corpi’s Eulogy for a Brown Angel includes a death at the end that seems unnecessary, just another way to add tragedy to the story. But, given that the author uses the main character to start a mystery series, maybe, somehow, this seemingly unnecessary death serves some kind of purpose for the next book. I’ll know if that’s so, when I read the next in the series.

But though I prefer a happy ending, it doesn’t make sense to have one if it doesn’t suit the story’s themes or characters. For example, I loved Jean Kwok’s Girl in Translation, but I did not like the ending. However, I understood why it had to end the way it did: it made sense, given the protagonist’s responsibilities to her family and her goals in life. An ending can also be “bad” if it lets the reader down in terms of expectations. Otessa Moshfegh’s Eileen is a big disappointment. I didn’t like the book from page one, but I was drawn in by the protagonist who kept teasing about a big reveal. There was no such big reveal. For me, it was a complete letdown.

There is also the ambiguous ending, which leads the reader to imagine what the end might mean or leaves the characters’ fates undetermined. I’m not crazy about that ending, either, though to an extent, I was guilty of writing such an ending for my first novel, My Doormat Days. I didn’t even realize it at first, not until readers asked if there would be a sequel, that it had been ambiguous. I finally realized that they wanted to know about the resolution of one of the relationships in the novel. I didn’t think it was important enough to spell it out, but on the other hand, it’s a good sign that the readers cared enough about the characters to want to know what the future held for their relationship.

So , though I prefer a happy ending, it doesn’t make sense to have one if it doesn’t suit the story.

Yes, I love character-driven fiction. I can almost–almost, but not quite–accept a poorly written novel if its characters are interesting. Occasionally, I like to blog about interesting characters I’ve come across recently in the fiction I’ve read. Here are a few I’ve met this past year:

Eileen in Eileen by Otessa Moshfegh. I downright hated this depressing tale narrated by the sociopathic Eileen. I only finished it because Eileen kept promising a BIG REVEAL, which instead was a big letdown. I should have known not to trust her. Eileen is self-centered and loathsome. But she is unforgettable.

Malka Treynovsky in The Ice Cream Queen of Orchard Street by Susan Jane Gilman. Malka starts life as a naïve, hopeful immigrant child who gradually becomes an embittered, successful entrepreneur.

Dix Steele in In a Lonely Place by Dorothy B. Hughes. This guy is one evil dude. The author takes the reader into the mind of a serial killer. Humphrey Bogart played him in the movie, but was not as evil a character.

Selina in Brown Girl, Brownstones by Paule Marshall is another young immigrant, but from childhood she is feisty, rebellious, and sometimes cruel to family and friends. She’s a well-drawn character, but one I couldn’t bring myself to like, because of her cruelty.

Ralph Roberts in Insomnia by Stephen King. Ralph is a senior widower who finds new meaning to life when faced with a supernatural foe. King has always had a knack for creating strong characters. Ralph is real in every way.

The dad in Haters by Alisa Valdes. I can’t remember his name. He’s not the protagonist, but he’s a fun-loving, sweet father to his self-absorbed teenage daughter. It’s a refreshing portrayal of a loving parent.

Antoinette Conway in Trespasser by Tana French. It’s interesting that the most compelling characters are often the most unlikable. Antoinette carries a chip (that is more like a boulder) on her shoulder. But she’s fiercely independent and smart. Tana French mysteries always have detailed, real characters, and Antoinette is one of her best.

This month our book club is reading J.D. Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy. I didn’t realize how popular this book is until I searched for it on the websites of my local libraries. There were hundreds of requests at one library but only fifteen at the other, and that’s where I placed a hold. As weeks went by, I grew concerned that the book wouldn’t arrive in time for our book club meeting. So, at the suggestion of a friend, I downloaded the audio edition through a lending service offered at one of the libraries. It’s hard to believe, but this is only the second time I’ve listened to a book. As someone who has been intimately connected to libraries for almost my entire life, it’s amazing that before 2017 I’d never listened to an audiobook!

I don’t know why I avoided audiobooks for so long, especially after colleagues and friends had touted the advantages of listening to a book while mired in L.A. traffic, or spoke of the excellent work of a particular narrator. Maybe I felt that I wouldn’t actually be reading the book and appreciating the written word firsthand. Though I avoided audiobooks for a long time, I am now a convert. I’m not a fast reader. Sometimes I’ll get stuck on a paragraph; my mind will wander (I’ll be thinking about such banal topics as what I’ll cook for dinner or the horribly rude driver I encountered in traffic the day before), and I won’t absorb what I’m reading. I might have to read the paragraph a few times before the words sink in. That doesn’t happen to me with an audiobook. You see, I’m a very good listener and always have been. I listen more than I talk. I can listen to an audiobook and not miss a word, even if I’m also giving myself a manicure or cooking lunch. I finish the book faster than I could if I were reading it. This doesn’t mean, though, that I’ll abandon the physical book for the audio version. A book can be read on a plane or in bed without the need to plug in earbuds. For me, a book is a friend I’ll never give up.

My husband, John, and I recently returned from a thoroughly enjoyable vacation on a European cruise ship. I’ve blogged before about the fact that I try to take a book with me every time I travel because you never know when you’ll be stuck waiting for a plane, a train, or whatever. Books always help me pass the time. Plus, reading is a part of my life that I hate to leave behind, even if I am on vacation. But this time I did leave it behind. I considered taking my iPad with me so I could read an e-book, but I worried about risking the loss of a valuable item during the bustle of travel. For the same reason, I wouldn’t take a library book with me. In the airport, I scanned the shops for a good book or magazine to purchase for the flight, but nothing appealed to me. Oh, well, I decided, I’d spend time with John and watch whatever video entertainment the airline had to offer. That worked fine for the flight to our destination and throughout the cruise, too.

On the return flight, it was a different story. Unfortunately, John and I were not seated together on the plane. And, again, I found no interesting reading material to purchase. Oh, well, I decided, I would rely on the video entertainment to keep me amused. Big mistake. The video player at my seat didn’t work! Oh, how I missed my books!

Though I was able to have a perfectly wonderful time on the cruise without a  book to read, flying without good reading material is something I will never do again.