I use the term “series” loosely for various sorts of stories:
— A group of players followed for an extended period, slowly evolving.
— Various groups of players in a shared world.
These are not the same sorts of things. If you took all the Mowgli stories out of the Kipling collections and put them together, you would have a particular character for an extended period (and related characters)… but I wouldn’t call that a series so much as a (scattered) collection. We get to keep visiting the character or the world, but not necessarily in an organic or sequential way. That’s not how I think of a series.
The reason I’m exploring this issue is that I keep reading various sorts of series (and I write them, too, which has its challenges).
The biggest distinguishing characteristic for me is this: is there an overall story arc across the entries, or are reader simply focusing on various people in a shared universe?
Any individual series entry needs its own story arc, of course, whether it’s a short tale or a book-length novel. But a series as a whole doesn’t necessarily follow that same rule.
And thus I wanted to ask y’all about your own preferences. I’ll start…
Me, I like the long story arc type of series, where the overall arc contains the individual entry arcs for an (evolving group of) characters. I find this tricky to construct, since the individual story arcs need to be able to fold into the larger series arc under construction (whose end may not yet be determined). The series may never end (author mortality/abandonment) or it may have a worthy end in mind, but either way, it can be hard to predict in advance.
- One technical issue is that the author may have to keep reminding readers who particular continuing characters are and how they’re related.
The other sort of series, the “I’ll just show another group of characters off in another corner of the shared universe, with their own story” is something I find much less compelling. I read, in general, for the (continuing tale about the) people achieving worthy “story” goals, not for the various exoticisms/fascinations of the story world as demonstrated by different characters. This does mean that, when I write, I tend to be limited by the generation length of some of the original cast, more or less, but that’s actually quite a long time, potentially (I’ve never run out).
- One technical issue is that the author may have to keep reminding readers how the continuing/shared world works.
What about you? If you write series, what sort are they? What’s your reading preference?
Mad Genius Club 
15 responses to “How do you think about a long series? Depends on the series…”
(Reader, not writer)
my favorites are long ‘series’ that are a well defined world. This allows for many multi-book arcs in the same world, some of which cross, some don’t (and some don’t for a long time), so they could be viewed as many series in one world, or one very long series.
Pam Uphoff’s Wine of the Gods is a fantastic example of this, spreading in time and area with many generations of characters and sets of subseries arcs
I don’t require that a series have a particular arc to it. I like a well crafted world that has a twist from reality and explores what happens (1632, the Familiar’s world)
trying to have an arc over the entire series has two problems in my mind
if the arc finishes, what next? bidding goodbye to an interesting world and interesting characters is disappointing
if the arc doesn’t finish, it becomes very frustrating (Armageddon Reef is a fantastic series that sort-of finished, but not really, and the less said about Game of Thrones the better)
I prefer fairly self contained stories (not necessarily a single book, but shortish set of books) within a self-consistent world. I’m not saying books where nothing changes from book to book and they can be read in any order (like most TV series), but where each story leaves both the possibility of more, and a satisfactory stopping point if something happens and no further books happen (another problem with Game of Thrones)
Armageddon Reef absolutely finished. The arc is complete–the power of the Church of Humanity Unchained is broken, and the emergence of Safehold from that is an entirely separate, different story.
The church was defeated, but there was still more story about the predicted return of some of the original crew at about that time.
David Lang
I’ve done shorter series, and “sub-series in a larger world” series. It really depends on the kind of story. If it follows one character, it will probably end up five-six books at most*. If it is a sub-series, then it will have a semi-containted plot arc within the larger world, sort of like what Pam does. Shikhari is one series following one character. Familiar Tales and Familiar Generations wander off into side stories, short story collections, and then back into the main “life of character” line. The Merchant books are more scattered, but all in the same world.
As a Reader, I prefer a series that doesn’t go too long, because of the “writer drops dead” or “writers lost contract” problem.
I’ve got outlines and worldbuilding for two series.
The first series would be a chronologically linear set of adventures of OUR HERO and his relationship with THE GIRL. Hopefully ending up with marriage and family.
The second series would be 3 books set in the same world, but each book would be about a character from one generation of a line. The world itself has a deep background mystery, which successive generations get closer and closer to uncovering. It is possible although unlikely that the characters from one book would ever directly encounter those from another book , but things like messages or journals left behind might exist.
There are authors in other genres, like Andrew Wareham, who I take as an excellent model of the long series – same characters version. 12-15 books are not unusual for many of his series (and those aren’t “done”, yet). It works for him, and it teaches me quite a bit about producing a long-career sort of story. The characters evolve (unlike, say, many detective-team series).
Alma Boykin’s Merchant series (as an example) is about as far as I get with enjoying the same-universe/different people. Part of the distinction is that I find that series world compelling enough on its own that I can treat each entry as an independent “will be my kind of thing” work. The Nathan Lowell Solar Clipper series have some of that same feel, aided by the limited size and quantity of the different character groups, and how they are reused/returned-to.
But for other series, like Pam’s Alliance, I simply can’t keep that universe and its history/relationships clearly enough in my head for the series to be the compelling come-on; instead, each individual work has to convince me independently — and that’s necessarily a harder sell. Nothing wrong with that series, of course (I have enjoyed several individual entries), but much harder work for me to engage.
Of course, blends are also possible, as in the Liaden books, where there are multiple character-groups and histories being tracked in a shared universe. It’s tricky to hold those together (in the attract repeat buyers sense), but it can be done. As another example, you can see that Mackey Chandler is working on bringing two separate character-groups and histories together for her April and Family Law sub-series to join them in the chronological middle, and I’m amazed she can pull that off, esp. since I happened to start with the later sub-series first.
Every reader and writer no doubt has his own preference, and exceptions apply.
As a reader: My favorite kind of series is competently written, reasonably well-clued mysteries with characters that are compelling to read about, crimes that don’t require brain bleach, and any developing relationships among the recurring characters being entertaining enough to pull their own weight.
My second favorite kind of series is anything writers who consistently entertain me do. Everything else comes down to: don’t be boring, don’t be overly convoluted, and don’t try to gross me out.
As a writer: I try my best to practice everything in that last sentence, but I don’t really have a consistent series pattern aside from that. My early books had a somewhat “family saga”/”adventures of ppl related to other characters” structure, partly because I was hung up on a particular male archetype at the time, and this was the easiest way to ring the changes on it in a specific setting. The space opera duology and the current series are a mixture of good versus evil and characters strengthening their relationships and growing in power/status. There was a risk of the space opera developing family saga tendencies, but I managed to contain it. Current series: hard to say; it’s a theoretical possibility but I could be ready for a change after the main trilogy is done.
I think that some series fall into trouble when the author tires of the series and just “phones it in” to “satisfy” the fans.
I’ve heard comments (even from Holmes fans) that Sherlock didn’t really survive his fall (ie after Doyle tried to bring him back).
I’ve also wondered if Gerrold’s The War Against the Chtorr and Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire will ever be finished because the authors have lost interest in continuing those series.
At least Holmes stayed mostly true to himself until the end. Unlike poor Professor Challenger, who turned into a preacher for Spiritualism. I just can’t see the pugnacious Challenger doing that. I’d see him snatching up the table at some seance and busting it over the fake spirit’s head before he started tossing the mediums out the windows.
Yes, I read the Professor Challenger books in an all in one volume many years ago, and my poor parents had to listen to me ranting at great lengths about Arthur Conan Doyle betraying his characters.
Love the mental image of Challenger starting a fistfight at a seance.
You seem to be leaving out the oldest, and hardiest type of series: one with recurring characters who do *not* evolve (much) over time.
Think of Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe mysteries where, apart from Archie’s early and rapid evolution as a character in the first few books, the regular characters and settings are much the same as in the first. Or any of Agatha Christie’s series apart from Tommy and Tuppence — those two were “odd” because they aged right along with the author, whereas Miss Marple was a little old lady for fifty years, and Poirot was Poirot right up to the end, decades after his Belgian-ness was culturally relevant in England (in fact, decades after most readers would have even *known* that it was relevant at one time).
Sherlock Holmes is arguably along this line, as well.
And outside of mystery, you’ve got adventure characters. While Allan Quatermain was notably mortal, most of his cultural descendants are more or less ageless. Burroughs’s Tarzan, and John Carter, Don Pendleton’s Mack Bolan, Remo Williams, Lee Child’s Jack Reacher, Clive Cussler’s Dirk Pitt, pick a long running adventure character and they inevitably age more slowly than actual humans, even in their own fictional worlds.
Which brings its own set of reader expectations, and problems for the author to solve.
It’s… complicated?
Single author, one world, consistent main character – Jerry Boyd with Bob and Nikki. Very enjoyable.
Single author, one world, different main characters and arcs – E. M. Foner with EarthCent, Traders, and Living on Flower. Again, very enjoyable.
Single author, multiple worlds (same universe), different main characters and arcs, varying number of titles – Pam Uphoff with WOtG, One World (with a separate line for “the kids”), and the Alliance. Once again, very enjoyable.
Multiple authors, multiple worlds (same universe), branching main characters and arcs – David Weber and associates in the Honorverse. Very enjoyable. Like a well-tended rosebush.
Multiple authors, one world, branching main characters and arcs – Ring of Fire. Enjoyable up until Eric Flint died, and for some time after – but then began to disintegrate (in my opinion) as everyone went off in completely different directions. Like a rosebush allowed to grow every which way.
The last two – I think a multi-author world needs to have its sole progenitor around to keep it in line. Ones that start with multiple authors seem to die quickly. (I’m thinking right now of the “Hell” series that Jerry Pournelle and Larry Niven were involved in. Never really went anywhere that I could see.)
I’ve got three sets of books which can be considered “series” – most of the historical novels can be considered a series, as they are linked by either continuing characters or in one of the four families which are followed over 100 years. No particular overarching arc to it – just people in interesting times, doing interesting things and trying to scrape a meaningful life in between events.
The Lone Star Son YA juveniles are a set of individual short adventures, about a pair of young heroes in a particular time and place. No real arc there – the stories over three books are in random order. It’s more like the Mowgli stories in the Jungle Book.
Luna City is a classic series, I think – episodic, but with a couple of overall arcs, which I plan to wrap up at #12. There is a point, I think – where you come to a natural stopping point, and although the series has fans who adore it … there comes a point where one wants to bring it all to a tidy end, rather than drag it on, and on, and on.
Too long a story arc means that the reader can’t perceive it all at once, and so it has no impact
I do remember the Judge Dee series by Van Gulik, which has the judge become more clever and shrewd over time as he advances from local magistrate to senior Metropolitan Judge of the capital. His sidekicks change too, but only a little. They’re still recognizable as the people we first met.
I also like how in the end Dee realizes that he has to stop personally investigating crimes. Because his zest for doing so has become so famed that his last case involved a criminal deliberately setting up a false lead that he knew would appeal to the judge’s curiosity.
There’s also the Flashman stories. In them Flashman goes from a cowardly, selfish, lecherous young man who mostly gets out of the trouble his knavery lands him in by luck, to a cowardly, selfish, lecherous old man who’s learned how to manipulate almost everyone around him to make sure he doesn’t get sent off to various barbarian hellholes around the empire to save the day. But still, it’s the same Flashman in all the ways that matter.