The last sentence of your story or chapter, the one that echoes in a reader's mind after they close the book.
A closing line is the final sentence of a story, chapter, or novel. It's the last impression you leave on the reader, the sentence they carry with them after the book is done. Great closing lines resolve or reframe the story's central tension, land an emotional punch, or open a door to something bigger than the narrative itself.
Readers remember endings. A mediocre closing line can flatten an otherwise brilliant story, while a perfect one can elevate everything that came before it. Your closing line is your last chance to make the reader feel something, and that feeling determines whether they recommend your book to someone else.
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." Transforms a story about one man's obsession into a universal statement about the human condition.
"He loved Big Brother." Four words that deliver the novel's most devastating blow. Everything Winston fought for, gone in a single quiet sentence.
The final line reveals that everything we've read was already written in a prophecy, collapsing the distinction between story and fate.
Don't use your closing line as a thesis statement. If you've done your job, the reader already understands the theme. Trust them. Let the final line resonate rather than lecture.
"And then she went to bed" is not a closing line. End on an image, a feeling, or a thought - something with emotional texture, not a plot summary.
There's a difference between a closing line that raises a genuine question and one that withholds information just to be annoying. The reader should feel pulled forward, not tricked.
Take a finished story or chapter and write five different closing lines for it. Try one that mirrors the opening, one that ends on a sensory image, one that's a single short sentence, and one that looks forward beyond the story. Read each version aloud and notice which one gives you chills.