There comes a point in the life of any project when it must end. Declare is done. Finis. Sayonara.
I’m not very good at goodbyes.
In fact, I can’t seem to let my tigers go. One problem: I don’t have a hard-and-fast deadline. That’s a death sentence for any journalist. We revolve around definitive ends when our words will make their way from our brain/fingertips to the etherworld. So, I tinker.
But I also have a good reason. The end is hell.
A conclusion to a body of work is a tough thing to craft. Lynne, my esteemed editor and friend, says that you have to draw conclusions for the reader that they should come to naturally given the information you have provided. Make them feel smart. Seems obvious, yes? Oh, but so tough to actually do. Especially in this particular case. I’ve written about the lives of a tiger family–their habits, instincts, biological characteristics and the relationships to their environment and all that live in it. In other words, I describe, or try to, everything about these living creatures. It seems only natural to broaden the perspective and discuss the future not only of this family, but of tigers in general.
And this is where a 1,000 word essay goes off the rails.
Discussing the plight of tigers raises so many conservation, economic and cultural issues, I could write a whole other book. Hm. (Maybe I shall.) But I have an obligation to discuss the precarious nature of their (the global tigers) lives. And be suscinct and effective.
So, I tinker.