Last week I watched a movie that had been vastly touted when it was released in the theaters. Now, admittedly, it’s not really my type of movie to begin with; this was one of dh’s choices. And as I often remind him, with his short-attention-span, a movie only needs three things to be a winner in his book: car crashes, explosions and gunfire, and some bare boobs. (And if those three things occur at regular intervals, the movie’s in the running for Best Picture of theYear.) On the other hand, I like a good story (and maybe a little romance thrown in–go figya.)

Well, this particular movie had car crashes, explosions and gunfire galore, a few bare boobs…and possibly, the makings of a good story (with a love triangle–yay!) And I enjoyed it…until the end. Somewhere in the last part of the movie, one of the main male characters gives the female character a sealed letter to be opened if anything happens to him (or if he tells her to open it at a later date.) So, guess what? Yup. Something happens to him. But… SHE NEVER OPENS THE LETTER! In fact, we never hear about the danged letter again. By this stage, dh is sound asleep (hey! it was a long movie) and I’m stuck sitting up watching the credits roll by, thinking, “Maybe they’ll flash back to the letter afterwards.” But, no. Nada. Zilch. Zip. The envelope was never seen or heard from again. It was just a loose end, left to dangle. And I felt cheated.

Dh claims the writer in me can’t enjoy anything without picking it apart. But I tend to disagree. I can overlook a missed opportunity or a lapse in sense when I’m watching something I enjoy. This to me, though, was unforgiveable.

How do other writers deal with this? Is your internal editor always on? Always looking for the faults instead of going along for the ride?