Writing a Series -- Part 2

John, I enjoyed your thoughtful post on “Writing a Series”. In Bleeder, your first book, your protagonist Reed Stubblefield is an amateur sleuth, and Selena De La Cruz is a minor character. In the sequel, Selena is the protagonist, a former DEA undercover agent who comes out of retirement to work a case, and Stubblefield is a subordinate character. You yourself say that Selena is a “completely fascinating” character, “much much” more so than Stubblefield (your “quietly dashing professor with the low-key sense of humor”). It will be interesting to see how things develop for them as the series evolves and you come to know them better as “people.”

Your “rules” for series writers to keep in mind make a great deal of sense.

Protagonists do have to be sufficiently compelling for readers to want to spend time with them in book after book. But they must be compelling for their authors too. Doyle got tired of Sherlock Holmes (thought he was interfering with his more serious historical romances, etc.) and tried to kill him off. Christie kept several series going (Poirot, Marple, Tommy and Tuppence, and the Parker Pyne stories), which not only gave her several sets of personalities to explore and develop, but also allowed her to take refreshing “time-outs” from writing about only one.

If the order of books in a series chronologically tracks the protagonist’s career, it stands to reason that the detective will age, mature, and change in subtle ways as the sequence progresses. You say that James Bond, Nero Wolfe, and even Sherlock Holmes don’t change. I haven’t read enough Fleming to know about Bond; but Wolfe is basically static (though Archie Goodwin may undergo some changes). Except for having aged in “His Last Bow” (set in August, 1914), Holmes, too, seems pretty much the same throughout. But in sequentially writing the cases for the Strand Magazine, Doyle did not follow the chronology of Holmes’s career: he allowed Watson to range over the whole span to pick and choose cases from the files almost at random. Thus, Doyle did not opt to pursue Holmes’s development; though, to be fair, cocaine comes and goes for awhile, and Holmes does seem to acquire a lot of general knowledge between A Study in Scarlet and the subsequent stories. You cite Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone as a character who ages, changes and matures. I would add Laura Lippman’s Tess Monaghan and Tony Hillerman’s Joe Leaphorn. But what about Father Brown? Kay Scarpetta? Adam Dalgliesh? Pam and Jerry North? Lew Archer? Travis McGee? Philip Marlowe? Miss Marple? Spenser? Pronzini’s Nameless?

As you suggest, one way to provide continuity between books and generate sustained reader interest is for the protagonist to have “some personal or family problems that carry over naturally to a second and third book and don’t get solved quickly.” That many series authors are doing this is in keeping with the shift in taste numerous commentators have identified: that readers nowadays seem to be as interested in detectives’ humanness and personal lives as in their cleverness in solving problems.

But I think there are dangers in providing the protagonist with personal or family problems that don’t get solved quickly. These issues can slow stories down, blur focus, and introduce extraneous material that drags like so much baggage. It requires a watchful eye, a steady hand, and a keen sense of proportion for authors to prevent their protagonists’ romantic and sexual entanglements, alcohol or drug addictions, boy- or girlfriend troubles, marital breakups, sibling rivalry, rebellious children, heavy-handed bosses, or “coming to terms with father” from tipping into soap opera or tedium. Either of these can distract and irritate the reader, impede forward movement, and detract from the mystery. Readers’ tastes vary, or course; some readers have a greater tolerance for this than others. For me, a little goes a long way.

Your second rule is also on target. I agree that it’s more credible for series protagonists to be in professions that bring trouble to them regularly, such as law enforcement and private investigation, than to be “amateur sleuths always stumbling upon bodies.” Yes, Jessica Fletcher’s facility at finding bodies is truly remarkable. She doesn’t even have to leave home.

I’m with Helen Ginger, who made the last comment in this thread. If I find that a book I like is part of a series, I try to find #1 and then read through the group in sequence, according to publication date. I do this in order to watch the evolution of characters, to assimilate background that explains things encountered later in the series, and to observe the author’s warming to the task. There can be disappointments in this approach, as when toward the end of the series you can sense a falling-off, as though the author has become tired, or ill, bored with the character, or “written-out” with little new to offer. I found this with Raymond Chandler, Tony Hillerman, Ross Macdonald (who was ill with Alzheimer’s) and Conan Doyle (in my opinion, the 1927 Case Book is not as interesting or well-written as the earlier Holmes stories). It’s sad to see the loss of power, whatever the cause.

On the other hand, to find a congenial series that sustains high excellence throughout its run is a joy unlike any other. I experienced it in discovering a long series of 29 books by Australian novelist Arthur Upfield, featuring as its protagonist Napoleon Bonaparte (‘Bony’), Detective Inspector of the Queensland police, a brilliant investigator who is half European and half Aboriginal. These books were enormously popular in the 1940’s and ’50’s, and, though reprinted by Macmillan/Collier Books in the ’80’s, are today found mostly in used book stores. A large selection is available on the Internet from abebooks.com. Bony is an interesting and complex detective, highly educated and an expert tracker, who solves cases in many parts of Australia. Upfield’s intimate knowledge of immigrant and native culture and his vivid pictorial descriptions of the Outback inform as well as entertain.

I myself have not chosen to produce a series featuring a single detective. I understand the intellectual challenge and commercial value of doing so, of creating a “brand” which readers will recognize and (if they like it)
avidly follow. My most recent novel, The Farringford Cadenza (2007), is a stand-alone mystery with a female private detective protagonist; the action takes place in Baltimore, New York City, and the island of St. Croix. Readers have eagerly asked me, “When can I expect a sequel?” I tell them, “There won’t be a sequel, because on this matter, there is nothing more to say.” I think that attempting to crank out a series featuring this group of characters would be wrong-headed and phony. They and the story emerged together; they belong together, and there they shall remain. For more on The Farringford Cadenza and information on purchasing it, go to The Pikestaff Press website:
http://www.pikestaffpress.com

Vergil (aka Robert D. Sutherland)

Writing a Series -- Part 1

My first mystery, Bleeder, coming this August, features an amateur sleuth: Reed Stubblefield, a rhetoric/classics professor who reluctantly becomes involved in the mysterious death of a Catholic priest reputed to be a stigmatist. I won't go into details here (there's a plot summary at my web site). Instead, I'd like to open a conversation about writing a mystery series. As you might guess, I'm at work on a sequel.

If there are 'rules' for sequels/series, one is that the protagonist be interesting enough to carry on through more than one or two books. The second 'rule' would be that the character should have a believable cause to be involved in a sequence of crimes.

As to the first 'rule,' this is easy enough if the original character is compelling enough to spend a few hours with again and again. And it helps if the character has some personal or familiy problems that carry over naturally to a second and third book and don't get solved quickly. While it really isn't possible to know the plots of forthcoming books, especially if there might be several, there ought to be ways in which the character grows and changes - the character 'arc' we keep hearing about. While there are some series where the main character doesn't change - James Bond, Nero Wolfe, even Sherlock Holmes - most readers today want a character who ages, changes, and matures, like Sue Grafton's Kinsey Millhone.

As to the second 'rule,' this is easier to do with someone whose profession brings trouble to them regularly, namely law enforcement personnel (cops, FBI agents, DEA etc) and PIs, perhaps lawyers, journalists, and clergy. It is a bit of a stretch to see amateur sleuths always stumbling upon bodies. When Jessica Fletcher comes to town, someone surely will die.

These considerations have led me, in part, to make the protagonist of my second book a minor character from the first book -- Selena De La Cruz, the Latina insurance agent who assists Reed in the first story. When she first showed up, she jumped off the page. She's feisty, smart, and sexy (she digs stylish shoes). She drives (and maintains) a vintage Dodge Charger (it was her brother Antonio's before he died in a car accident while overseas in the army) and she knows how to handle a P226 Sig Sauer handgun - that's because of her former career in the DEA working undercover. With that, and with being raised with three brothers, she's accustomed to negotiating a man's world and asserting herself as a second-generation Mexican-American woman in a subculture that tries to limit her identity. Family is important to her even though her two living brothers are difficult and her mother meddlesome (her father, a PEMEX executive in Chicago, died when she was a teenager). She is rediscovering her faith especially because of a caring aunt and godmother who is her spiritual mentor. I could go on -- she is completely fascinating - much, much more than my quietly dashing professor with the low-key sense of humor, who continues as a love interest complicating her life and the case she's called back to undertake by her former DEA bosses.

I'd like to think that each of these two books could be stand-alones. The second book will look back to the first to provide context and orientation, to continue some plot strands and such. But it would be possible to read the second one first, and go back to #1 later.

Ideally, I suppose, you want readers to start with the first and work their way through in order. Publishers would certainly want this -- after all, the whole point of a series from a marketing viewpoint is to build reader loyalty, build a brand, build a fan following that grows and thereby build sales from one book to the next. If the sales really dip, then the series is done.

But I suspect this sequential reading is rare with readers. I'm guessing the usual thing that happens is someone reads book #3 and thinks, 'That was good; I need to go get #1 and see how it all starts."

Well, that's a start for a thread. Are you writing a series? What are some other 'rules' to keep in mind? What problems have you had to overcome? What cautions do you have for writers thinking about a series? As a mystery reader, what do you look for in a series? What keeps you going back for the second, third, fourth book? What makes you stop reading a series?

Cordially,

John


http://www.johndesjarlais.com/