Play It
Again, Sam -- How to Craft a Seriesa presentation
by
Radclyffe
| Radclyffe, a member of the Golden
Crown Literary Society, Pink Ink, the Romance Writers of America, and a
two-time recipient (2003, 2004) of the Alice B. award for lesbian
fiction has written numerous best-selling lesbian romances (Safe Harbor
and its sequel Beyond
the Breakwater, Innocent Hearts,
Love’s
Melody Lost, Love’s Tender Warriors,
Tomorrow’s
Promise, Passion’s
Bright Fury, Love’s Masquerade,
Shadowland,
and Fated Love),
as well as two romance/intrigue series: the Honor series (Above All, Honor,
Honor
Bound, Love
& Honor, and Honor Guards)
and the Justice series (Shield of Justice,
the prequel A
Matter of Trust, In Pursuit of Justice,
and Justice in
the Shadows). She lives with her partner, Lee, in Philadelphia, PA, where she both writes and practices surgery full-time. |
By definition, a series implies more than two and may be a collection of works whose subject matter is only loosely associated. A sequel, on the other hand, suggests that book two is a continuation of book one, particularly in terms of continuing a specific storyline or resolving plot threads left "untied" at the end of book one. The two are slightly different, presuming that a series is an ongoing exploration of a cast of characters, building upon the previous works, but having independent storylines in each subsequent work. Clearly, the edges blur when trying to distinguish between books in a series and two books or even three which are all part of a more cohesive work. Many romance writers write trilogies with three central romantic pairings. Usually one individual in each couple is related in some fashion and all are often involved in a quest, solving a familial challenge, or achieving some other common goal. Each book emphasizes one couple while keeping the others in supporting roles. For purposes of this discussion, however, I'm going to define a series as any number of books which continue the story of common characters or setting.
Why is it that we write series? The simplest answer is that readers love them. I as a reader love them – I hate to see my favorite characters disappear. The other reason is that for an author, the series provides a real test of our storytelling skills and can be enormously rewarding in terms of providing a forum to explore interesting themes or characters in greater depth. In private discussions with authors, I've often heard it said that some series which are quite popular did not start out in the author’s mind as a planned series. Instead, we find ourselves writing a second and then a third in a continuing saga because the characters won’t let us go, or because our reader won’t let us let them go.
I like to think of this phenomenon as the "accidental series". That is certainly the case for my own Honor series (now up to four books) as well as what has become the Provincetown Tales, which will have expanded to three books in the spring with the publication of Distant Shores, Silent Thunder from Bold Strokes Books. The accidental series presents some particular challenges, in that what one has written in the first book can't be changed, and it may require some inventiveness on the part of the author to deal with those elements in later books. For example, Katherine Forrest offered some advice at a panel on writing a mystery series by suggesting that we name our characters carefully, because we might be living with them for a long time. She laughingly said that there were far too many Kate’s in lesbian fiction, and I'm now guilty of adding a couple of Kate’s myself. In fact, somehow, I ended up with three characters in one series with names that are very close to one another. It wasn't a problem at first because all but one of those characters started out as relatively secondary. However, in later books they become more prominent, and I've had to live with the similarities in names. If I could go back and change it, I certainly would. However, once the first book is written, there are certain things such as character’s names, ages, back story (if you've included it there), familial relationships, time period in which the story is set etc., that are carved in stone.
For example, in Safe Harbor, I made reference to a character’s experiences in a previous Olympic competition. That was a hard and fast real-life event which marked the timeline for that character in terms of age and subsequent events. Even though you can set your book in any time period that you desire, once you mark it with a real-life occurrence, everything from that point forward has a defined timeline. If you've done it accidentally, or basically unintentionally, as I did with Safe Harbor, you now have to fit all the subsequent books to that timeline. Obviously, it's more desirable if you plan these things in advance, but it doesn't always work out that way. Once you realize that your stand-alone is now the first book in what will be an ongoing storyline, I'd suggest reviewing it carefully, particularly in terms of characters’ ages, event markers, and anything else which readers may reference in a later work. That way, the accidental becomes the intentional for future works.
From this point on, I'm going to assume that we're intentionally planning a series. All of these points are applicable to the accidental series as well, with some creative manipulation. Whether one writes from page one to page 300 in a straight line, or writes critical scenes first and then returns to fill in the blanks, we all have to think about certain internal constructs such as the timeline, the setting, the cast of characters, characterizations, and the plot. These basics apply to a series as well, with variations in some depending upon the genre.
In terms of timeline, one has to decide if the timeline will be "real-time" or condensed (or what I like to think of as "fictional time"). One of the best examples of a real-time series is Katherine Forrest's Kate Delafield series. Kate was born in 1946 and each book is set in a particular calendar year with reference to 1947. In addition, the time between the books is real-time as well. In other words, if six years elapsed between books three and book four, then Kate is six years older the next time we see her. Amateur City was the first of Forrest's books in this series and was published in 1984. At the time of that book, Kate was "in her late thirties". In Forrest’s newest release in the Kate Delafield series this year, Hancock Park, almost 20 years has passed in real-time and therefore in the story timeline, and Kate is now in her mid-fifties. What this means for the author is that one's characters are going to age substantially over the course of the series. That very fact adds a particular burden in terms of character and relationship development. Obviously, there may come a time when you have to stop writing the series before you’d like to because your character is "too old". You also have to account for lengthy passage of time in terms of the relationships and other life events in some fashion. If three years have passed between books in a series, a reference needs to be made to what happened to the characters during that time. As a reader, I don't like to have large chunks of missing time because I selfishly would like to have as much time with the characters as possible. As an author, I find the use of real-time to be very constraining and not something that I do in my own series. If time has passed between book one and book two, it's because I want that time to have passed. One reason for this is to move the characters to a different place in time. For example, three years has passed between Safe Harbor and Beyond the Breakwater, because I wanted to focus on Bri and Caroline's relationship, who were teenagers in the first book, as they passed into adulthood. It hasn't passed because I'm stuck with a timeline dictated by real-life.
The same is true for both the Honor and the Justice series, where I employ a fictional timeline. Despite how long it's been between the release of the books, the continuing storyline within each book follows almost immediately after the other has ended. In both series, despite having four books each, less than a year has passed in the storyline. That means that the main characters in each are still relatively new as couples, which allows me to explore their interpersonal relationship issues more slowly from book to book.
The flip side of the timeline coin is that if one is employing real-time, then one can incorporate real-time events into the storyline without worrying about anachronisms. Forrest has done this to effectively explore contemporary issues of importance to the gay and lesbian community. On the other hand, if your story starts in 1998 and by book four you've only progressed to 1999, you can't reference the Iraq war or other political developments or incorporate progress made in gay and lesbian civil rights. Someone needs to be keeping track of that timeline to ensure internal consistency.
The time to make this decision is between book one and book two, and with each subsequent book reinforce how much time has passed to remind the reader of the internal timeline as well. One thing that I have found works well in terms of keeping the reader oriented to the timeline, especially in a mystery or action story where the plot tends to revolve around critical events, is to use time stamps. I actually like this device much more than having each chapter start with "two weeks later" or "three days had passed".
I used time stamps most recently in Honor Guards (BSB, 2004). The introduction of date and time notations emphasizes the action and, as the action picks up and the time stamps grow more frequent, helps set the pace while carrying the reader along from page to page. Although somewhat more difficult technically, time stamps can also be used in a romance to help underscore the passage of time, reminding the reader in a subtle fashion that the characters aren’t falling in love overnight. In back to back books, these time markers help to underscore how much time has elapsed between volumes. If the time stamps seem too artificial or unwieldy for the tone and pace of the book, then it's simple enough at the beginning of each book to reference some event in the previous one along with the time which has passed.
Forrest does this in Hancock Park in the first interaction between Kate and her lover Aimee by having Aimee say, "after 13 years with you…”. We immediately know a significant amount of time has passed since the last book, and we know how old Kate is without having it spelled out, because we remember that she was in her early forties when she met Aimee. I usually make reference in the first few pages of a new book in a series to some critical event that occurred near the end of the last I order to orient established readers and to introduce new readers to the important events prefacing the current work. Flashbacks may work for this as well, but should not be too extensive. I, as a reader, dislike reading pages of “past events” precisely because they are past and thus have little dramatic tension. Lengthy explorations of past relationships can be especially trying because the reader wants the “new” story, not the old.
My "tip" in regard to the timeline is to make the decision early as to how quickly you want the storyline and critical relationships to move forward and to be careful what time markers you insert. Time markers, like names, are immutable and may define what events you can write about or even how long you will be able to write the series.
The setting for your series may be as important to the longevity of the series as the characters you create. For some series, the setting may be merely a backdrop or the stage upon which the relationships between the characters are played out. This is often true for romances, where the characterizations and the interpersonal challenges are the primary fuel and focus of the book. I like to call this the "have partner, will travel" approach to a series. It doesn't really matter where the characters are, because what's happening between the characters is the only thing of importance.
Another approach is to allow the setting itself to form the consistent element between books. For example, in Jennifer Fulton's Moon Island series, which is primarily a romance series as opposed to a mystery/intrigue/action series, the setting is consistent from book to book. Although some characters are continued as well, different romantic pairings are emphasized in each book. The setting forms a familiar stage and contributes to the tone and atmosphere of the books, while it is the interpersonal relationships that are changing.
For a sci-fi or fantasy series, the details of the alternate universe take on much more importance. Obviously, the extent to which the society is defined varies from author to author, but some attention must be paid to creating this world in order to lend authenticity and texture to the story. In addition, the setting may actually form the critical element which unites the series. For example, Jane Fletcher's Celaeno series is much more strongly focused on the society she has created than on a specific romantic pairing, although characters do repeat from book to book. There is not nearly as strong a character continuation between books as there is an expansion of the history and society of her alternate universe. This provides the reader with a sense of continuity from book to book because the world is "familiar" and we understand the social structure and how the characters can be expected to relate within that universe. Therefore, even without the same characters in each book, we have a sense of constancy and satisfaction by returning to a world with which we are familiar. Then, as Fletcher has done, we can populate that world with interesting new characters exploring different aspects of relationships, culture, society etc. with each book.
My "tip " in regard to setting: Even when writing a romance, make your stage as broad as possible to enable yourself to introduce new challenges to the central couple. If you've created an alternate universe, develop it to the extent that it becomes a major "player" in the series.
When it comes to plot, we face the classic oxymoron: the romance series. One could argue that by virtue of the genre, it's impossible to serialize a romance. I actually believe this to be true. By definition, a romance has a self-contained arc which focuses on a central couple who meet, are attracted, face some barrier to their coming together (interpersonal or external), overcome that challenge, and end the book together in a committed or with the promise-to-be-committed relationship. If one began a series with a “stand-alone” romance, continuing these characters in a long running series will be particularly challenging. By definition, the critical motivating force within a romance is the unresolved sexual tension - the need, physical and emotional, for the couple to be together. Once we've brought the main characters together in an acknowledged and often committed relationship, we lose the page-turning force of the romance. To continue this couple’s story, we must infuse the relationship with some other form of challenge to take the place of the sexual tension. Otherwise, we're going to have a series without dramatic tension, which runs the risk of becoming "tired" and repetitive.
K. Simpson manages it in her Devil series because there happens to be a unique element, namely that the characters are possessed or at least plagued by demons. As the couple becomes more firmly established within the relationship, other hysterically funny events ensue as a result of their unwilling association with these demons. It can also be done, as Missy Good’s extended Dar and Kerry series exemplifies, by introducing what I term the “evil” outside forces placing one or both characters in jeopardy while the relationship itself remains "rock solid" and fairly domestic. It's definitely easier in the romance setting, and often more "acceptable" to the reader, to challenge the relationship from professional, societal, or "sinister" external forces than it is to introduce interpersonal barriers such as emotional distance, inability to commit, or infidelity, all of which are considered the antithesis to romance.
The mystery or action series are much easier to serialize, because each book has a self-contained challenge which drives the story, allowing the author to downplay the interpersonal elements between the central couple or at least makes it unnecessary for the couple to carry the story. This takes some of the pressure off the author in terms of avoiding repetition. As always, this is a double-edged sword. The very thing that allows one to more easily create a series also may allow the author to become lazy. If each new book in the series only solves a new mystery or overcomes a new foe, but does nothing to advance the characterizations, relying instead on stock descriptions and repetitive interactions, then eventually the series will become "one note" and readers will lose interest.
One needs to strike a balance between creating an interesting challenge to the characters or an new puzzle to be solved while allowing the characters themselves to grow and change in relationship to one another. In order for this to happen, the relationship can't be "perfect" at the end of any book. Regardless of genre, some aspect(s) of the relationship needs to be left open-ended to carry on into the next book in the series. These may be issues such as deciding to live together, having children, changing jobs, coming out to family or colleagues, or dealing with a physical or emotional disability. Once the couple has achieved Nirvana, a character-driven series is likely to dwindle due to the absence of tension.
The final plot factor to be considered is the effect on a series of constructing a plot with a clearly identifiable endpoint. For example, both my Honor series and Cooper and Novan’s Madam President/First Lady are potentially limited by the tenure of a president. One needs to bear in mind these immutable occurrences when plotting the series, particularly in terms of how quickly one wants to move the series forward with each book. Eventually, the series must transition in some manner or end. Cameron Roberts will not be Blair Powell's chief of security after Andrew Powell leaves office. Since that association and all the problems inherent within it has been a defining force in their relationship, the Honor series either needs to end there or redefine itself in the context of their new life circumstances. How quickly I want to get to that point will determine the forward progression of the plot in terms of both timeline and resolution of relationship conflicts.
My “tip” on constructing the plot: Every book needs a challenge. Regardless of genre, some plot threads need to be left open-ended to carry on into the next book in the series.
On to assembling the cast of characters. Obviously, a series is likely to involve many more characters than a stand-alone. They don't all have to appear in the first book, in fact it's preferable that they don't. The ability to add new characters allows for something fresh in each book. Again, the author must determine whether each book in the series will focus primarily on one couple, or whether it will be an ensemble cast with the emphasis varying from book to book on different players. One of the classic ensemble series, of course, is Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City, which actually began in 1976 as a true serial published daily in the San Francisco Chronicle. Another very good example is Jessica Casavant’s Boston friends series. Over the course of three books, she focuses on a different member of a group of friends and a new developing romantic relationship in addition to the ongoing mystery/adventure theme of the series. The characters who were main in one book become secondary in the others. This creates continuity for the reader and a sense of satisfying familiarity, but makes each book new and fresh.
Ensemble casting is a powerful tool for serializing a romance, but the author must take care to provide enough of the primary characters from the first book to satisfy the reader's desire to see them again. One of my favorite series is the sci-fi/fantasy series by Chris Anne Wolfe, Shadows of Aggar and Fires of Aggar. In that series, Wolfe created an elaborate and fascinating world that was drawn in incredible detail and populated by fascinating characters with paranormal abilities. After reading the first book I couldn't wait to read the second, but was disappointed at first to find that in the second book the couple to whom I had become so attached in the first appeared only as a footnote. However, because she had created such an engaging universe, however, and an equally compelling romance in the second book, I soon got over my disappointment. In this sense, the author must gently redirect the reader's expectations since the subsequent books will not necessarily be "more of the same" or perhaps better phrased, "as much of the same" characters as was provided in the first book. The burden then becomes to make the new relationships introduced or focused upon as interesting and compelling as the first. If all of the characters are related in some way, through friendship, family, or professional ties, the task is easier because the author needn't abandon the original characters who first forged the interest in and demand for a series.
Even in a series which does depend upon one central pairing, secondary characters are essential. Your main couple can't exist in a vacuum, because it will be impossible to introduce enough new plot elements to vary the storyline. Secondary characters who have some valid association with the central characters can add flavor, humor, conflict, and even major subplots to enhance the ongoing series. Introduce the secondary characters as early as possible, develop their importance slowly over the course of several books, and focus on them to varying degrees in varying books. These characters will soon become as interesting and compelling for the readers as the primary couple. On the other hand, I find novels in which the main couple is surrounded by satellite characters who have no real identity and no meaningful association to the primary characters just an annoying diversion, and I often find myself skipping over those parts. If a character is important enough to include in the book in more than a passing fashion, then they need to have their own story and hopefully, some critical association with one or both of the main characters. Consider also that if you have a well-developed secondary character in one book that you can spin them off into their own book or even their own series and then revisit them again in the original series.
This leads to another approach to assembling the cast in what I refer to as the "fusion" series - combining characters from two stand-alones in a double sequel and then including all the characters in the ongoing series. I did this in the Justice series by taking two groups of characters from two different books (A Matter of Trust and Shield of Justice) who lived in the same city and had professions that were complementary and bringing them together in a single book (In Pursuit of Justice). I've continued that ensemble cast as well as introducing new characters in order to depict relationships at various stages of development.
It's been my experience that readers enjoy seeing characters from previous books making cameo appearances or even playing larger roles in subsequent books, as long as the association between the characters has some foreshadowing or foundation created to explain their presence. The world isn't that big a place, and we all have had those coincidental meetings with people who know people whom we know (hence the 6 degrees of separation theory). There's no reason the same thing can't happen in our fiction, and it provides us with another tool to introduce fresh elements into our series.
My tip on “casting the series”: Ensemble casting is a powerful tool for serializing a romance, but the author must take care to provide enough of the primary characters from the first book to satisfy the reader's desire to see them again. Secondary characters who have some valid association with the central characters can add flavor, humor, conflict, and even major subplots to enhance the ongoing series.
Now that we have our timeline, stage, and cast of characters, what do we do?
A series generally implies recurring characters, although as mentioned, this is not necessarily true, particularly in the alternate universes. If we do have recurring characters, then it is incumbent upon us to show character growth over the course of the series. The timing is crucial, because too rapid a change in a character’s behavior becomes "out of character" and hence unbelievable and detrimental. On the other hand, if the character reacts the same way to a given situation every time in every book, the character becomes predictable. Either way, the author has lost the reader's interest or trust or both. The series timeline is one important element to be considered when constructing character development. If the time between two books is two weeks, then the character is not very likely to behave much differently in similar situations. On the other hand, it would be perfectly reasonable for the character to at least consider behaving differently because of the impact that previous experiences or the new relationship with the romantic interest has had.
Character insight precedes a change in behavior and is a natural step in the evolution of a character. This can easily be shown even between two books which are close together in time. On the other hand, if a long period of time has elapsed between two books in the series, then it would be unreasonable for the characters to appear in the same emotional stage as they had previously. Personally, as I stated before, I find these huge time gaps unsatisfying as both writer and reader. As someone who loves to read a series, I don't want to miss anything, including any life experience or event that might change the character. I want that to appear onscreen so that I can savor it.
Obviously, for a character to grow, there must be challenges. These challenges can come in the form of issues brought to light by the romantic relationship (conflicts regarding intimacy, sexuality, commitment, and fidelity are all powerful tools for change as well creating dramatic tension). Personal challenges such as alcoholism or workaholism have been issues in both Katherine Forrest’s Kate Delafield series as well as Jean Redmond’s Mickey Knight series. Introduce the seeds of these conflicts early in the series so that they may be harvested in later books. The resolution of the issues may be slow, but in each book the impact or effect of the issue should be apparent so that the thread persists from book to book. It is not feasible to reach book five and suddenly give your main character a problem with alcohol that was never alluded to previously. In the same fashion, a life long resistance to monogamy is not likely to disappear with the first kiss. Some groundwork for that change needs to be laid earlier in the series (make reference to the fact that the character has grown weary of one night stands or hasn't been sexually adventurous for months before meeting the new love interest, for example) or the change in the character must develop as a consequence of this new intimacy in future books.
My tips on character growth: Think one (or ten) steps ahead – lay the groundwork in one book for a personal challenge to the main character(s) in a future book. Sow the seeds of your future books well in advance.
Pacing the plot in a series is a balancing act between giving a reader everything they desire and holding something back to create anticipation for the next book in the series. Sometimes a series is focused upon a cast of characters who are so beloved that readers are happy just to see the characters again and again, merely to be in their company. As authors, we can't count on familiarity to be enough. We need to ensure that each book in the series offers a new look at the characters or the worlds we've created for our most steadfast readers.
Each book in the series should also be constructed so that someone reading any of the books in any order would get an idea as to what has transpired previously, but could still have a complete reading experience with the current book alone. What that requires of us is to have a beginning and an end to each book, with a fairly self-contained plot or at least one strong element of the plot that can be resolved by the end of that book. Nevertheless, we must assume that most readers have already read the previous books, so that a lengthy recap of the past events is probably not required. The references to previous events can be scattered throughout the current book where they enlighten the characters or inform the plot.
Ultimately, our goal is to leave enough questions unanswered while dropping a few clues to things to come to stir a reader’s anticipation for the next book. Again, it's relatively easy to do that in a mystery or even an action/adventure series where each book is focused on a circumscribed event. It's much harder to do that in the sequels to a romance because we don't have the built-in genre elements that define the story structure and plot design. In addition, if we leave too many unanswered questions, we run the risk of frustrating the reader or even worse, making them feel that we are taking advantage of them. Forcing a reader to buy the next book to get "any" answers can create hard feelings. I personally believe it's fine not to answer every question that may arise in one book, as long as there is some resolution to some portion of a problem that the characters face. Nevertheless, there's a very fine line between hunger and frustration, and on balance, if in doubt, leave only one major plot thread dangling.
In summary, I would suggest that when crafting a series, whether one finds oneself in the midst of a series by intent or misadventure, that we as authors need to begin to think beyond the end of the present book in terms of timeline, plot, and the directions we intend to take our characters. Writing a successful series is very much akin to playing chess - it can't be done one move at a time or one book at a time. At some point, the endgame must be in our sights even if it's years down the road, so that we can continue to construct challenging and interesting books along the way.
© Radclyffe 2004
This paper was presented at BardFest 2004 in Washington, DC