The upshot is this: in the final book of the saga, Stephenie Meyer gives readers everything they could've possibly wanted for the protagonists. A happy marriage, a healthy baby, everyone's in love, no one dies, and they get to stay in town because the main character's dad is cool with his daughter being a vampire (I warned you there were spoilers).

And the readers hate her for it. I mean, the reviews could peel paint. These people are not just unhappy, they are out for blood. But why? They got everything they wanted, right? Everything is perfect! Every thread is tied up! Everything that every reader has ever lusted after for those characters was granted.

But we don't want that, do we? Nay, as readers, we want the author who won't call us in a timely manner after that first date, who makes us pay for lunch, and who makes eyes at our best friend. Let's compare the Breaking Dawn reaction with J. K. Rowling's series. She kills Dumbledore. She kills one of the Weasley twins. She kills Sirius. There are bodies flying left and right. Nobody gets what they want. But at the end of the day, there are no legions of fans shouting that J. K. has ruined the series. They moan "why did Sirius have to die!?" but not "what was she thinking when she killed him?"

Or how about my favorite movie trilogy ever, the Bourne movies? (sorry, Robert Ludlum, I haven't read them, only watched 'em). In the first twenty minutes of the second movie, they off Jason Bourne's beloved love slave in a ruthless and expedient matter. Do we scream and throw the remote? Nah, we rend our clothes a little and say "poor Jason, come to my house, I'll comfort you" and then we watch the rest of the movie and the next one back to back and we love them.