Cliffhangers: Their Purpose and their Failings

As someone who enjoys sci-fi, fantasy, comic books, video games, and tv shows, I encounter many cliffhangers in my life. Somewhere swimming in the back of my mind right now is a final showdown between the Flash and his archnemesis, Eobard Thawne, over the entirely revamped DC universe, an emotional Chuck Bartowski holding a dying Sarah Walker in his arms, Luke Skywalker versus an evil, all-powerful entity, a now too-powerful-to-be-interesting Eragon intent on slaying Galbatorix, an unconscious Desmond Miles stuck in the memories of his ancestors, and Commander Shepard speeding toward Earth to save it from the Reapers over a hundred years from now.

I enjoy cliffhangers. I create cliffhangers in my own writing, and appreciate a good segue into a following piece of the puzzle. But here is my problem; what happens when the questions arisen by the abrupt ending are never answered. Few things are more aggravating to a fan than having their heroes suddenly cease to exist and being left to wonder what the creators had in mind.

At the moment, I have no hope of ever discovering who Earl Jr.'s real father is on My Name is Earl, what becomes of Robin Hood's brother, Archer, on the cancelled BBC series, what becomes of the supposedly fated union of John Stewart and Shayera Hol on Justice League, or whatever becomes of Darman, Atin, or any of Skirata's other clan from the Star Wars: Republic Commando series. Oh sure, I forget for a while about these nagging questions, but whenever I am reminded of these heinous shortcomings and blatant disregard for fanbase, I find myself growing very angry at the perpetrators.

I, Seth Saunders, do hereby resolve to never leave my readers leaving on a cliffhanger.

Ahh! I'm being attacked by myself from an alternate universe because of what I know about the history of Atlantis!

To be continued...