Beth Williamson Icon

As a writer and a reader, heck even as a human being, closure to me is more than important. It’s essential to survival.

Let me qualify that by saying, not physical survival as in to live, but definitely survival of our hearts, minds and souls.

Recently two people close to me, a friend and my sister, had to put their cats to sleep. A heart-wrenching, emotional decision that left them both sad. Each of these animals had cancer and treatments were attempted, yet they didn’t respond well. I cried with them and for them, but in the end, they said goodbye to their beloved kitties and had closure.

It reminded me of when I was an eight-year-old girl and suddenly my dog was gone. Now let me tell you, this dog was part of the family before me – she was already 12 when I was 8. Apparently she had kidney failure and my parents decided to take her to vet to be put to sleep.

Without telling me.

I was devastated, cried for days, angry and hurt. How could they do that? I know as parents we try to make the best decisions for our children, but this was 100% not right.

I expect closure. I need, crave, require closure. The same is true of the books I read and write. There needs to be a bow tied up nicely at the end. Don’t leave me with “life sucks, get over it” and move on. No, no, no.

Cannot stand it. I again get angry and frustrated and refuse to read that person’s books again. It’s true of many of the books I’ve read at my book club – some of them are absolutely devastating and there are those that do not give me that closure.

I just finished my third Brava book, the third and final in a series. I spent time really making that bow into a beautiful shiny ribbon at the end. There was closure – an HEA that made me cry (yes, I make myself cry *dork*) and smile.

That, ladies and gents, is closure. How about y’all? Anybody else who just cannot stand to leave anything hanging? Or am I the only anal closure freak out there?