A logical and satisfying ending is always required in a short story, but how do you make sure yours is fresh and new? One of the ways is to avoid the obvious. Here are some common endings seen by editors – use at your own risk.

And then I woke up.

The ‘Dallas’ gambit. This approach is nothing more than a loophole for unimaginative people. Stories should come to a logical conclusion that satisfies the reader and resolves any conflicts. Neither does this method.

And then I died.

The ‘Weird Tales’ tactic. It appeared regularly in horror tales for the first part of the last century, until HP Lovecraft, among others, surpassed it. A diary that ends with a series of nonsense words as a creeping terror from the afterlife arrives for the author was fine the first time, but most publishers have seen it too many times.

And I found out that he had been dead the whole time.

The ‘sixth sense’ tactic. This one is old, which is why people who knew the genre well caught the twist very early in the M Night Shyamalan movie. An overused variation is to have someone climb out of a coffin after a supposedly premature burial. Do not do it; the editor will see it coming from a mile away.

And they called them Adam and Eve.

The ‘Bible’ gambit or, as Michael Moorcock puts it, the Shaggy God stories. If you start with a nuclear holocaust or human settlers on a new planet, make sure you don’t use this ending or the story will be thrown right back at you. The other trap to avoid is for a computer to become a god. That avenue was new in the 1940s, but these days an editor will laugh at his chair.

And then I saw the fangs, just before it bit me.

The ‘singles bar pick up’ gambit. With this shabby ending, a person visits a bar and is seduced by an interesting, pale stranger who turns out to be a vampire, ghost, werewolf, or alien. You see various variations today, such as same-gender reunions and graphic sex scenes before the reveal, but the stories are all the same and the editors know it.

And then I caught up with the ‘@!* that had done me wrong and I shot at the @’!**.

The ‘Death Wish’ gambit is the beloved technique of Michael Winner’s gun freaks and fanatics. It’s a very boring story unless you can bring style, energy and a unique vision to it, in which case you’d probably be better off trying to sell it as a cinematic treatment. There’s a long tradition of revenge movies, but in the written word they all seem very similar. A variation on this management is the Charles Atlas Gambit, where the weedy nerd becomes a kung-fu expert to exact revenge on his tormentors. He won’t be tempted to use this angle. The editors will know what’s coming.

And the next day I read in the newspaper that he had died.

The ‘I spoke to a ghost’ tactic. This practice appeared frequently in Victorian literature. In general, it is nothing more than an anecdote turned into history. Variations include talking to someone who is later found to be the victim of a plane crash, car accident, or major catastrophe. Editors see many of these after a natural disaster, but whatever the person’s cause of death, the stories are all the same.

And it was a man in a mask the whole time.

The ‘Scooby-Doo’ tactic. Claim ghosts are a cliché. The entire story builds a sense of supernatural threat, only to reveal a human agency behind it all. Usually it won’t get past the publisher, but if he does, readers will be disappointed and disillusioned.

And it was my evil twin; we were separated at birth.

The ‘doppelganger’ tactic. Stephen King got away with it in The Dark Half and Dean Koontz pulled off a twist by making both evil twins in Shivers, but unless you’ve got their flair and wit, you shouldn’t try it. Another variation, loved by the romantics among us, is to have the protagonist discover that he is actually the son, daughter, or brother of a wealthy family. This mode is really just wishful thinking on behalf of the writer. You shouldn’t share your dreams with editors.

I really am a dog/cat/demon/alien.

The ‘non-human narrator’ gambit is tried and tested. That’s the problem. If you don’t leave any clues about the fact, the reader will feel that the ending is an evasion. If you leave clues, the reader and your editor will know the end is near, unless you’re very good at disguising the fact.

Remember, people have been writing stories for a long time. If you’ve read a similar ending in a story or seen it in a movie, you can bet the publisher will know about it, too. There are only so many original endings to go around; make sure yours is one of them.