R.I.P.

Have you ever known that feeling of ultimate contradiction that an incredible novel gives you? You just devour the words because you simply can't get enough. But, toward the novel's end, you are sad that there won't be any more left to read about the characters when you turn that last page. Well, that is precisely howI felt watching the end of Six Feet Under last night. Alan Ball is a genius. He proved that in American Beauty and has done so once again with the final episode of this highly acclaimed show on HBO. 9pm couldn't come fast enough yesterday, and yet, once the show started, it hit me that there would be no more to see. No more Nate. No more David and Keith. No more Claire. No more Ruth. They are all gone. I really believe that this little feeling of sadness I have carried with me all day today is the mark of a good work of fiction: it draws you in, makes you feel something so deeply, brings you as high as you can go, and then leaves you with a sad little smile when it's over. What do you like about fiction? TV? Movies? What juices you up?