Cliffhanger Quotes

To my wonderful readers: Sorry about that last cliff-hanger. Well, no, not really. HAHAHAHA. But seriously, I love you guys.

To my wonderful readers. Sorry about that apology for that last cliffhanger. I’ll try to avoid cliffhangers in this book. Well, except for maybe a few small ones... because I love you guys.

Writing simply means no dependent clauses, no dangling things, no flashbacks, and keeping the subject near the predicate. We throw in as many fresh words we can get away with. Simple, short sentences don't always work. You have to do tricks with pacing, alternate long sentences with short, to keep it vital and alive.... Virtually every page is a cliffhanger--you've got to force them to turn it."~

For once, I agree with Blake." Daemon met my shocked stare. "We can't, Kitten. Not now." I wasn't okay with this, but I couldn't run down the hall, letting people free. We didn't plan for that and we only had a set amount of time. It sucked-sucked worse than people who pirated books, sucked more than a year for the next book in a beloved series, and sucked more than a brutal cliffhanger ending.

We are one now, little brother, you and I," Sebastian said. "We are one.

It sucked – sucked worse than people who pirated books, sucked more than waiting a year for the next book in a beloved series, and sucked more than a brutal cliffhanger ending.

To my wonderful readers: sorry about that last cliff-hanger. Well no, not really. HAHAHAHA. But seriously, I love you guys.

I didn’t usually watch new shows. I just rewatched the same ones over and over. I liked the familiarity, the predictability. If I rewatched a show, there were never any surprises. No emotional jump scares. I didn’t have to process new feelings or stress over cliffhangers. I knew where it was going and how it would end.

Why lie?

The books were legends and tales, stories from all over the Realm. These she had devoured voraciously – so voraciously, in fact, that she started to become fatigued by them. It was possible to have too much of a good thing, she reflected. “They’re all the same,” she complained to Fleet one night. “The soldier rescues the maiden and they fall in love. The fool outwits the wicked king. There are always three brothers or sisters, and it’s always the youngest who succeeds after the first two fail. Always be kind to beggars, for they always have a secret; never trust a unicorn. If you answer somebody’s riddle they always either kill themselves or have to do what you say. They’re all the same, and they’re all ridiculous! That isn’t what life is like!” Fleet had nodded sagely and puffed on his hookah. “Well, of course that’s not what life is like. Except the bit about unicorns – they’ll eat your guts as soon as look at you. those things in there” – he tapped the book she was carrying – “they’re simple stories. Real life is a story, too, only much more complicated. It’s still got a beginning, a middle, and an end. Everyone follows the same rules, you know. . . It’s just that there are more of them. Everyone has chapters and cliffhangers. Everyone has their journey to make. Some go far and wide and come back empty-handed; some don’t go anywhere and their journey makes them richest of all. Some tales have a moral and some don’t make any sense. Some will make you laugh, others make you cry. The world is a library, young Poison, and you’ll never get to read the same book twice.

I stared at Irys. My Story Weaver had to be laughing his blue ass off right now. My future appeared to be a long twisted road fraught with knots, tangles and traps. Just the way I liked it.

Great leaders pay it forward.

The trick in writing children's books is to set up danger, mystery and excitement on page one. Force the kid to turn the page . . . Then in the middle of each chapter there's a dramatic point of excitement, and at chapter's end, a cliffhanger.

Beyond the table, there is an altar, with candles lit for Billie Holiday and Willa Carter and Hypatia and Patsy Cline. Next to it, an old podium that once held a Bible, on which we have repurposed an old chemistry handbook as the Book of Lilith. In its pages is our own liturgical calendar: Saint Clementine and All Wayfarers; Saints Lorena Hickok and Eleanor Roosevelt, observed in the summer with blueberries to symbolize the sapphire ring; the Vigil of Saint Juliette, complete with mints and dark chocolate; Feast of the Poets, during which Mary Oliver is recited over beds of lettuce, Kay Ryan over a dish of vinegar and oil, Audre Lorde over cucumbers, Elizabeth Bishop over some carrots; The Exaltation of Patricia Highsmith, celebrated with escargots boiling in butter and garlic and cliffhangers recited by an autumn fire; the Ascension of Frida Khalo with self-portraits and costumes; the Presentation of Shirley Jackson, a winter holiday started at dawn and ended at dusk with a gambling game played with lost milk teeth and stones. Some of them with their own books; the major and minor arcana of our little religion.

It was like my life hung on the chapters of a novel - and each scene ended in a cliffhanger.

Shane kissed her one more time, lightly and softly, and fluffed her hair back from her face. “To be continued,” he said. “I hate cliff-hangers.” “Blame Eve.

It is important we leave the National Parks the same way when we arrived.

To my wonderful readers: Sorry about that last cliff-hanger. Well, no, not really. HAHAHAHA. But seriously, I love you guys.

He was a cliffhanger and I was a happily ever after.

This is the ending. This is the end to several different stories. There will be no bang to it. No cliffhanger. Everything has come to a close and I’m ready to fade out.

Can you believe diss woman!” Nice yells, suddenly appearing at my side. “Another cliffhanger. I will find diss writer woman and compel her to finish di damn story!

Yes or no, Vanderhorsssthst?” He glares. “And sink very carefully about your answer because I have cliffhanger on zi brain and I am not happy.

Mrs. Murdo, walkind even more briskly to keep her spirits up, was crossing Harken Square when something fell to the pavement just in front of her with a terrific thump. How extraordinary, she thought, bending to pick it up. It was sort of a bundle. She began to untie it.

Assuming things is the equivalent of sleepwalking blindfolded on a cliff edge fully expecting a safety net to be there to break the fall should you topple over the precipice. In one moment, a leap of logic becomes a fall from grace.

If novelists truly wanted to simulate the delta of lfe's possibilities, this is what they'd do. At the back of the book would be a set of sealed envelopes in various colours. Each would be clearly marked on the outside: Traditional Happy Ending; Traditional Unhappy Ending; Traditional Half-and-Half Ending; Deus ex Machina; Modernist Arbitrary Ending; End of the World Ending; Cliffhanger Ending; Dream Ending; Opaque Ending; Surrealist Ending; and so on. You would be allowed only one, and would have to destroy the envelopes you didn't select.

To my wonderful readers: Sorry about that last cliff-hanger. Well, no, not really. HAHAHAHA.

The Idiot. I have read it once, and find that I don't remember the events of the book very well--or even all the principal characters. But mostly the 'portrait of a truly beautiful person' that dostoevsky supposedly set out to write in that book. And I remember how Myshkin seemed so simple when I began the book, but by the end, I realized how I didn't understand him at all. the things he did. Maybe when I read it again it will be different. But the plot of these dostoevsky books can hold such twists and turns for the first-time reader-- I guess that's b/c he was writing most of these books as serials that had to have cliffhangers and such. But I make marks in my books, mostly at parts where I see the author's philosophical points standing in the most stark relief. My copy of Moby Dick is positively full of these marks. The Idiot, I find has a few... Part 3, Section 5. The sickly Ippolit is reading from his 'Explanation' or whatever its called. He says his convictions are not tied to him being condemned to death. It's important for him to describe, of happiness: "you may be sure that Columbus was happy not when he had discovered America, but when he was discovering it." That it's the process of life--not the end or accomplished goals in it--that matter. Well. Easier said than lived! Part 3, Section 6. more of Ippolit talking--about a christian mindset. He references Jesus's parable of The Word as seeds that grow in men, couched in a description of how people are interrelated over time; its a picture of a multiplicity. Later in this section, he relates looking at a painting of Christ being taken down from the cross, at Rogozhin's house. The painting produced in him an intricate metaphor of despair over death "in the form of a huge machine of the most modern construction which, dull and insensible, has aimlessly clutched, crushed, and swallowed up a great priceless Being, a Being worth all nature and its laws, worth the whole earth, which was created perhaps solely for the sake of the advent of this Being." The way Ippolit's ideas are configured, here, reminds me of the writings of Gilles Deleuze. And the phrasing just sort of remidns me of the way everyone feels--many people feel crushed by the incomprehensible machine, in life. Many people feel martyred in their very minor ways. And it makes me think of the concept that a narrative religion like Christianity uniquely allows for a kind of socialized or externalized, shared experience of subjectivity. Like, we all know the story of this man--and it feels like our own stories at the same time. Part 4, Section 7. Myshkin's excitement (leading to a seizure) among the Epanchin's dignitary guests when he talks about what the nobility needs to become ("servants in order to be leaders"). I'm drawn to things like this because it's affirming, I guess, for me: "it really is true that we're absurd, that we're shallow, have bad habits, that we're bored, that we don't know how to look at things, that we can't understand; we're all like that." And of course he finds a way to make that into a good thing. which, it's pointed out by scholars, is very important to Dostoevsky philosophy--don't deny the earthly passions and problems in yourself, but accept them and incorporate them into your whole person. Me, I'm still working on that one.

You sparkle even in the dark.

It was Primrose Everdeen.

for the love of all that is hot and steamy, I don’t want any bitching about the length of the book, the price, or the cliffhangers in your reviews. Please and thank you!

I’ll try to avoid cliffhangers

Sometimes the happiest endings begin after a cliffhanger.

Motherhood is a cliffhanger.

A cliffhanger is when ...

It's like a cliffhanger at the end of a really good book, you're floored by how great it was, but at the same time, you feel disappointment that it's over And physically ache to continue.

They collided, and rolled toward the precipice. Loose rocks shifted beneath them, causing a small avalanche that carried the two ragged enemies plunging off the edge towards the abyss below.

 'I’ve seen its other side. I know what lives here, what’s been slumbering for so long.”  A hollow pit opened up where Roger’s heart was supposed to be. “How would you know that?”  “I woke it up.

He loved her, he loved her, but he was never entirely sure he knew what that meant. What was love, anyway? For him, love was a collection of moments... strung together like luminous pearls on a string.

How about 4, 5, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7? Think about it for a minute. That approach has the advantage of giving you “I am your father,” and of starting with the mysteries of the two best, while treating the prequels as kind of a flashback (as you’re also focused on the cliffhanger ending of 5). Then you get to wrap everything up with the real finale, and the best, before the third trilogy starts. Not a bad idea at all. A

The king who stepped into the ballroom wearing a green velvet robe and bejeweled crown was none other that the tiger-man who'd prowled through my nightmares and nearly every waking moment for the past two days. Chorda.

Like most modern people, we no longer bothered to make the distinction between events in real life and the dramas of fictional worlds, and so the cliff-hanger that inevitably, reliably ended the hour held just as much or more importance to us as the newspaper that usually went from doorstep to garbage bin unread, and we speculated about the future lives of the characters that populated decayed mansions or desert isles as if they weren't inventions of other human minds.

I love you, I want to tell yu that, I want to say it for the billion times I couldn't say it. - Fletcher Green

bread slathered in it on the griddle. Belinda poured some coffee, yawning as she dumped spoonfuls

bless us and deliver us. He will not forsake us. As my husband is fond of saying, “God loves cliff-hangers.” He loves to deliver us at the last moment to see if we will trust Him and not flinch.

The Ancestral Trail was split into two-halves of 26 issues each. The first half takes place in the Ancestral World and describes Richard's struggle to restore good to the world. After the initial international run, which sold over 30 million copies worldwide, Marshall Cavendish omitted the second part of the trilogy and used the third part (future) for the second series that followed. This part of the series, written up by Ian Probert and published in 1994, takes place in the Cyber Dimension. It deals with Richard's attempts to return home. Each issue centered on an adventure against a particular adversary, and each issue ended on a cliffhanger. The Ancestral Trail was illustrated by Julek and Adam Heller. Computer-generated graphics were provided by Mehau Kulyk for issues #27 through #52.

But isn’t that half the fun?” he asked, more genuinely than I had expected. “Guessing the end and then being able to celebrate yourself if you’re right, or celebrate the storyteller if you’re wrong?” So that was why the king of Naenden had kept me alive? Because he was bored and couldn’t stand a cliffhanger? As if murdering both his brother’s wife and his own a few weeks ago hadn’t flavored his life with enough drama.

I should be exhausted, but I'm not. I'm much too keyed up to sleep. Probably it's myour imagination, but when I close my eyes and sit very still, I swear I can feel the baby inside me. Not moving, nothing like that, it's far too early. Just a kind of warm and hopeful presence, this new soul my body carries, waiting to be born into the world. I feel ... what's the word? Happy. I feel happy. Shots outside. I am going to look. *****END OF DOCUMENT***** Recovered at Roswell Site ("Roswell Massacre")

I didn’t usually watch new shows. I just rewatched the same ones over and over. I liked the familiarity, the predictability. If I rewatched a show, there were never any surprises. No emotional jump scares. I didn’t have to process new feelings or stress over cliffhangers. I knew where it was going and how it would end. Music too. When my anxiety is extra high, new music is too draining to process. I’d lean on old playlists. A lyrical safe space, the comfort of repetition. And my anxiety hadn’t been as high as it was right now in longer than I could remember.

Discussions of the effects of serial publication of Victorian novels on their authors and readers1 usually draw attention to the author's peculiar opportunities for cliff-hanging suspense, as, for instance, when Thackeray has Becky Sharp counter old Sir Pitt's marriage proposal at the end of Vanity Fair's fourth number with the revelation that she is already married, and the reader must wait a month before the husband's identity is revealed. Or it may be pointed out how the author can modify his story in response to his readers' complaints or recommendations, as when Trollope records in his Autobiography how he wrote Mrs Proudie out of the Barchester Chronicles after overhearing two clergymen in the Athenaeum complaining of his habit of reintroducing the same characters in his fiction.

week before the election, the New Republic’s Morton Kondracke wrote that “it seems more likely by the day that Ronald Reagan is not going to execute a massive electoral sweep. In fact, the movement of the presidential campaign suggests a Carter victory.”14 David Broder had written: “There is no evidence of a dramatic upsurge in Republican strength or a massive turnover in Congress.” Though polls in the days leading up to the election showed Reagan ahead of Carter, most were near or within the margin of error, and everyone was predicting a late-night nail-biter. The New York Times poll three days out had Reagan ahead by a single point; veteran California pollster Mervin Field said, “At the moment there is a slight movement toward Carter.” George Gallup said, “This election could very well be a cliffhanger just like 1948.”15

To my wonderful readers: Sorry about that last cliff-hanger. Well, no, not really. HAHAHAHA. But seriously, I love you guys.

Advance Praise for THE GREAT NEW ORLEANS KIDNAPPING CASE: RACE, LAW, AND JUSTICE IN THE RECONSTRUCTION ERA "Michael Ross' The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case has all the elements one might expect from a legal thriller set in nineteenth-century New Orleans. Child abduction and voodoo. 'Quadroons.' A national headline-grabbing trial. Plus an intrepid creole detective.... A terrific job of sleuthing and storytelling, right through to the stunning epilogue." --Lawrence N. Powell, author of The Accidental City: Improvising New Orleans "When little Mollie Digby went missing from her New Orleans home in the summer of 1870, her disappearance became a national sensation. In his compelling new book Michael Ross brings Mollie back. Read The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case for the extraordinary story it tells--and the complex world it reveals." --Kevin Boyle, author of Arc of Justice: A Saga of Race, Civil Rights, and Murder in the Jazz Age "Michael Ross's account of the 1870 New Orleans kidnapping of a white baby by two African-American women is a gripping narrative of one of the most sensational trials of the post-Civil War South. Even as he draws his readers into an engrossing mystery and detective story, Ross skillfully illuminates some of the most fundamental conflicts of race and class in New Orleans and the region." --Dan T. Carter, University of South Carolina "The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case is a masterwork of narration, with twists, turns, cliff-hangers, and an impeccable level of telling detail about a fascinating cast of characters. The reader comes away from this immersive experience with a deeper and sadder understanding of the possibilities and limits of Reconstruction." --Stephen Berry, author of House of Abraham: Lincoln and The Todds, a Family Divided by War "The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case is such a great read that it is easy to forget that the book is a work of history, not fiction. Who kidnapped Mollie Digby? The book, however, is compelling because it is great history. As Ross explores the mystery of Digby's disappearance, he reconstructs the lives not just of the Irish immigrant parents of Mollie Digby and the women of color accused of her kidnapping, but also the broad range of New Orleanians who became involved in the case. The kidnapping thus serves as a lens on the possibilities and uncertainties of Reconstruction, which take on new meanings because of Ross's skillful research and masterful storytelling." --Laura F. Edwards, Duke University

Sessioning is simply the process of showing your player an exit for a play session. It might seem counterintuitive, but it appears in a great number of successful F2P titles. It is, to reuse the soap opera analogy, a cliffhanger.

No, Rae, the clocks won't chime again, these clocks have marked my fall." - Fletcher Green

Scheherazade was Earth's muse, it seemed; it was just one damn thing after another, always one more cliffhanger, clinging to life and sanity by the skin of one's teeth

Our story isn't complete; she cut that bitch off mid-sentence and left me in a cliffhanger status.

Through the Fire by Raj Lowenstein Trafford Publishing reviewed by Anita Lock "Beware the Abomination." After initially treating Michael Braun for wounds resulting from a brutal attack, David and Kelly Hartman—a physician and nurse respectively, as well as a gay, married couple—feel that the best place for her (yes, a she despite the masculine name) to recover is at the condo of David's twin brother, Dan. Dan, an overworked detective, ignores David's frantic texts and is shocked when he wakes to find a stunningly beautiful but battered woman sleeping upstairs. Michael is also a mute who communicates through American Sign Language (ASL), a language in which Dan happens to be an expert. Although the two eventually fall in love, there is more to Michael's past that Dan is aware of until he receives information from none other than Michael's abuser. Raj Lowenstein presents a romantic thriller that appears more disturbingly real than fiction. Set largely in Texas, Lowenstein's plot has a bit of a Law and Order feel to it—minus the court and prison scenes. Laced with gender-related issues and replete with a tight cast, Lowenstein's storyline zeroes in on Dan and his unexpected romance with Michael amid peculiar situations. Lowenstein punctuates her thought-provoking, third-person narrative with the sinister and hideous presence of Catfish, whose persona is a paradox to say the least. Key to Lowenstein's writing style is the use of engaging dialogue to generate dynamic characters who are developing their relationships and facing life's challenges. Lowenstein aptly fashions her well-developed cast within cliff-hanging chapters that alternate between unanticipated character scenes. Scenes are filled with back stories, steamy romantic episodes, investigations, the evil machinations of Catfish, and are all used in the deliberate build-up to the novel's intense and unnerving apogee. Kudos to Lowenstein for creating an edgy and eye-opening debut! RECOMMENDED by the US Review

My life had become one long cliffhanger

For a storyteller, an open ending leaves much room for imagination; for the inquisitive reader, however, it is a source of great anxiety.

Hi! Has this ever happened to you? You’ve just finished the latest Dave the Villager book, and all you want to do is talk about it. Will Dave recover from the latest cliffhanger? Will Robo-Steve ever come back for good? Will we really have to wait until Book 50 to see the enderdragon??? So you go and see your friends at school, but all they want to talk about is Surfer Villager. “The Surfer Villager books are great,” they tell you. “You should check them out!” “Don’t talk to me about Surfer Villager!” you yell at them. “The Dave the Villager books are the only books I’ve ever read, and they’re the only books I ever will read! Dave Villager is the greatest author of all time!” “Wait,” they say, “isn’t Dave Villager the character, not the author?” “No, you morons,” you scream, “Dave Villager is the author, and Dave the Villager is the character!” “That’s very confusing,” they reply. “No it’s not!” you bellow, spraying them with spittle. “Is the author’s surname really Villager?” they ask. “Come to think of it, is his first name really Dave?” “Is Dr Block really a doctor?!” you roar. “I DON’T THINK SO!!!” “He might be,” they say. “SHUT UP!!!” you exclaim. And then you run home crying. When you get home, your Aunt Mavis gives you a big hug. “What’s the matter, dear?” Aunt Mavis asks. “Those idiots at school don’t know anything about Dave the Villager,” you sob, wiping the tears from your eyes. “All I want to do is find someone I can discuss my favorite books with. I want to discuss the mythology of the Old People, and whether it’s remained consistent throughout all 28 books! I want to debate whether or not Dave could have prevented the destruction of the mirror universe in Book 20! I want someone to read my Boggo fanfiction!” “Oh, I don’t know about any of that,” says Aunt Mavis. “I haven’t read any unofficial Minecraft fiction in years. I used to read Diary of an Angry Alex, but when the books stopped I was devastated. I vowed never to read any Minecraft books ever again. And that’s a promise I will keep until the day I die. Now I only read Roblox novels.

Your life is like a book. You are the hero, death is the villain, and God is the divine author. Like any good story there are conflicts, climaxes, plot twists, and even a few cliffhangers, but He isn’t done yet! A hero always has a period of doubt and defeat, a hard time where they almost give in to the evil. But in the end, the hero always makes a comeback and defeats the villain. This is God’s awesome plan for your story and he has already finished the ending! Anyone who believes in him will overcome death! Yeah, you’ve had your share of ups and downs, but He has great things in store for you. Right now, you might only see the chapter you are on and is might not be very pretty, but don’t worry! God can see the big picture and what an amazing masterpiece you will become. Don’t take matters into your own hands, let God handle it. Trust me, whatever He’s got planned is far better than anything you can imagine!

THE SAVE THE CAT! SHORT SYNOPSIS TEMPLATE PARAGRAPH 1: Setup, flawed hero, and Catalyst (2–4 sentences) PARAGRAPH 2: Break Into 2 and/or Fun and Games (2–4 sentences) PARAGRAPH 3: Theme Stated, Midpoint hint and/or All Is Lost hint, ending in a cliffhanger (1 to 3 sentences)

Trusting a coward is like sitting at the edge of a cliffhanger, trusting a brave is like standing infront of a terminator

To be honest, in a really dire situation like this there would probably be a cliffhanger,” said Carl. “What’s a cliffhanger?” asked Dave. “It’s when you put the characters in a desperate situation, where it looks as if all hope is lost, then you suddenly end the story,” said Carl. “Then the reader has to wait until the next issue to see what happens.” “That sounds really annoying,” said Dave. “Yeah,” said Carl. “It is a bit.

Dragos, I don’t think we’re alone here.

Dragos looked at Pia. “I’m not getting sex tonight, am I?

We get it. Plants are pretty and smell nice. For us, the new and exotic frontier is season finale cliff-hangers.

So that’s why I am very happy to submit for your approval, the conclusion of the SYLO Chronicles. There are no more cliffhangers. No more unanswered questions. No more “To be continued . . . ” And yes, it WAS freakin’ Uncle Press who gave Bobby Pendragon his journals in that last chapter of The Soldiers of Halla. There! I said it. How could you not have gotten that? It was so obvious! (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, it’s okay. We won’t hold it against you. Much.) Okay, I feel better now. Moving on. We’re here to talk about SYLO and learn the fate of our brave refugees from Pemberwick Island.

The cliffhangers are killer but more then worth it. Surrender can't come out fast enough.

And suddenly, there were the shapes of many people lurking out of the woods, light glowing from their hands.

is the hardest part. If I forget you, I’m sure I’ll hear about it but know I love you. My betas: Mandi, Jennifer, Melissa, Holly, Roxana, Megan, & Linda—I love you all and I couldn’t do this without you. Each time I send you the mini cliffhangers you come back for more. I love torturing you and making you smile. Thank you for your friendship! Christy Peckham: I couldn’t do this

Because I never would’ve finished this book without your steady support, brilliant brainstorming sessions, and tiny chocolate chip cookies (And FYI, readers: The cliff-hanger was Deb’s idea!)

What’s a cliffhanger?” asked Dave. “It’s when you put the characters in a desperate situation, where it looks as if all hope is lost, then you suddenly end the story,” said Carl. “Then the reader has to wait until the next issue to see what happens.” “That sounds really annoying,” said Dave. “Yeah,” said Carl. “It is a bit.” To be continued…

The cliffhanger-change-of-subject was one of their well-worn paths to truce.

I received the Cliffhanger, for my 12th Birthday.

Cataclysm: End of Worlds continues and expands upon the introductory The Silver Sphere and also ends with the cliff-hanging portent of more satisfyingly compelling action in the next book. While sci-fi readers who like quick openings to new worlds will be the best audience for this book, it should also be on the reading lists of contemporary fiction and sci-fi students of the novella form, as an example of how to make the most of a very short opportunity to grab reader attention.

Arthur Q. Bryan makes his first appearance as a man asking questions about a radio program. Quinn, who had earlier taken pot shots at the cliffhanger endings of soap operas, parodies the genre in this episode with the fictitious title David’s First Wife’s Second Husband.

So no cliff-hanger to end with, Bill? You’re losing your touch.

 The four of us, all dead, sat eating in silence. Our dinner plates, I saw, were filled with small bones. A big platter in the center of the table piled high with gray-green bones, human-looking bones.

True crime reality TV, if you like. Judging by the cliffhanger at the end of last night’s opening episode, it certainly shows promise.

Now we know where all those cliff-hangers of yours came from. Not hard to drop a bombshell if you’ve a whole arsenal of them primed and ready to go.

The world of cryptocurrency is a thrilling roller coaster soaring highs of potential, heart-stopping dips of volatility, and the ever-present hum of uncertainty. While the rewards can be immense, the risks are equally daunting, none more so than the chilling prospect of losing your hard-earned digital assets. This is where Digital web Recovery steps in, not just as a technical savior, but as a beacon of hope in the digital abyss. My story is unfortunately familiar. A seemingly innocuous phishing attack, a moment of carelessness, and my digital wallet, once brimming with promise, lay empty. The pit of despair was bottomless; the fear of financial ruin was paralyzing. Desperation led me down a rabbit hole of online forums and recovery "experts," each promising a solution, each leaving me with a deeper sense of helplessness. Then, I stumbled upon Digital Web Recovery. Their services, unlike the others, exuded a quiet confidence, and a sense of professionalism that resonated with my desperation. The testimonials, heartfelt and genuine, offered a glimmer of hope, a fragile spark in the darkness. I reached out to Digital Web recovery with a hesitant plea for help, and was met not with skepticism, but with genuine empathy and a meticulous understanding of my predicament. The recovery process itself was transparent. Every step was explained in clear, concise terms, and my questions were answered with patience and understanding. The Digital Web Recovery team never sugarcoated the challenges, but they never wavered in their determination to find a solution. Days turned into weeks, each update a nail-biting cliffhanger, until finally, the news arrived,my cryptocurrency, every precious Satoshi, had been recovered. The relief was overwhelming, a tidal wave of gratitude washing away the months of anxiety. But beyond the sheer joy of regaining my assets, it was the human touch that truly resonated. Digital Web Recovery wasn't just a recovery service; they were my digital lifeline, Contact them via; digitalwebrecovery(@)mail-me.com Telegram User; @digitalwebrecovery my unwavering support system in a time of crisis. My experience demonstrates Digital Web Recovery unwavering devotion to their clients as well as their technical expertise. They are aware of the psychological effects of losing cryptocurrencies, including the terror and despair that can overcome even the most experienced investor. They tackle every case with kindness and commitment, viewing each missing currency as a personal issue that must be solved.

The Godfather II —" “Nope, not even close. This has the great cliffhanger ending, plus the yummy romance between Princess Leia and Han Solo.” He looked at her, surprised. “Really? I would have pegged you for a When Harry Met Sally fan.” “Nah.” She waved a hand. “Give me sarcastic Han Solo over sentimental Harry any day.

What is it with these authors giving us these incredible books and then BAM, leaving us with blue balls and bullshit cliffhangers that have our tiny minds exploding with insanity? Fuck, if I ever meet that Tate James … damn, I’d have a few things to say to her.

Content risks include changing genres, moving from one length of book to another, putting out more books, creating a serial, writing fan fiction, or writing a book with a cliff-hanger. I think taking one career risk per year is important to growth—as both a writer and a person.

Episodes. Like depression is a sitcom with a fun punch line each time. Or a TV box set loaded with cliffhangers. The only cliffhanger in my life is "Will I ever get rid of this shit?" and believe me, it gets pretty monotonous.

I apologize again for another cliffhanger ending.

[...] Depressive Episodes. [I]Episodes.[/i] Like depression is a sitcom with a fun punch line each time. Or a TV box set loaded with cliffhangers. The only cliffhanger in my life is "Will I ever get rid of this s***?" And believe me, it gets pretty monotonous.

But I have only ever written one cliffhanger and that was the fourth book in my science fiction series. You wanna see a cliffy? I can write the fucking shit out of a cliffy.

cliffhanger

The Guiding Light is the longest-running serial in broadcast history. Still seen on CBS television, its roots go back almost 60 years, to radio’s pioneering soaps. Though its original characters have been swallowed and eclipsed by time, it still has faint ties to the show that was first simulcast July 20, 1952, and in time replaced its radio counterpart with a daily one-hour TV show. Its creator, Irna Phillips, was often called “the queen of soaps.” She was so influential in the field that she was compared with Frank and Anne Hummert, though the comparison was weak. While the Hummerts employed a huge stable of writers and turned out dozens of serials, Phillips wrote her own—two million words of it each year. Using a large month-by-month work chart, Phillips plotted up to half a dozen serials at once, dictating the action to a secretary. Mentally juggling the fates of scores of characters, she churned out quarter-hour slices of life in sessions filled with high drama, acting the parts and changing her voice for the various speaking roles, while secretaries scribbled the dialogue that flowed from her lips. She gave up teaching early in life to enter radio as an actress at Chicago’s WGN. She was 25 that year, 1930. In 1932 she began to write. She discovered that cliffhanger endings were surefire for bringing those early audiences back to their sets each day, but that slow and skillful character development was what kept the audience for years. She decided that the organ was the ideal musical instrument for those little shows and that the instrument should be played with pomp and power, with all the authority of a religious service in a great European cathedral. The music gave weight to the dialogue, which was usually focused and intense.

Tending a cliff-hanging Grand Hotel In a country ravaged by civil war. My heart as its only bellhop. My brain as its Chinese cook.

The beginning of the end came in 1947, when ABC vice president Ed Boroff canceled the quarter-hour format. Boroff had been critical of juvenile cliffhangers for some time, and one particular Armstrong episode contained all the elements he had long disdained. Jack had bailed out of an airplane wearing a suit of armor and a parachute. The chute didn’t open, but wait!—there was a backup chute! When the second chute failed, there was Jack, encased in steel, plummeting to earth late one Friday afternoon, leaving his fans in the lurch until Monday. It was too much, Boroff decided: the serial had to go. Two weeks later, Jack Armstrong became a watered-down half-hour. It was never the same after that. Gone was the breathless pace, the sense of wonder.