Dianne: Writing a Series -- What I Didn’t Know

Ever since the first book in my middle grade series released in April, people have been asking me if I’m excited about writing the next two books. When I tell them both books are already written, were in fact written before the first one even came out, they’re surprised. So am I.

The third book hasn’t undergone editorial revisions yet, but it’s due for completion this fall. The offer for the 3-book deal occurred in October of 2012, and by the time the second anniversary of that happy event comes around, the bulk of the writing for all three books will be completed.

I had no idea it would happen that fast.

Right after the contract was signed, there was the usual wait for an editorial letter. At the time, it seemed like the pace would be no different from my previous two book deals – that is, lots of waiting with periodic bouts of frantic activity. It wasn’t until I completed the editorial revisions for Book 1 and looked ahead to the submission deadline for Book 2 that it dawned on me how fast things were happening.

In September of 2013, I found myself working on all three books at once. I had first pass pages of The Eighth Day for proof-reading, my editorial letter for The Inquisitor’s Mark, and I was about a third of the way into writing the first draft of (the not-yet-officially-titled) Book 3 – all while working a full-time job as a teacher.

I felt like this:

"Jane! Get me off this crazy thing!"

It turned out I could not work on all three books at once. I kept getting confused about what Jax, my main character, knew and when he knew it.  So I concentrated first on the proof-reading of Book 1, then the revisions for Book 2. Only when those tasks were finished did I open my first draft of Book 3 again …

… and said, “Oh my God. This is a horrible mess.” Then I started over from scratch …

Writing Book 3 was an uphill battle. Like a magpie, I kept getting distracted by shiny new things: Eighth Day ARCs, early reviews, a cover for The Inquisitor’s Mark, back cover copy for the paperback version of The Eighth Day … (Did you know that was established before the hardback even released? Me neither!) Eventually I produced something I was proud to present to my editor, and right now I’m anxiously awaiting her guidance in transforming it into an even better story.

But do you know what the biggest surprise about writing a series has been? It never occurred to me that people would want to talk to me about the newly released first book – and meanwhile I know everything that happens in the next two.

Me: “You think that was bad, wait until Jax has to … oh, I can’t tell you. But you’re really going to love … no, wait, I shouldn’t say. But what did you think about the part where … um, has that happened yet?”

I’m a walking, talking spoiler. Beware.

Karen: Returning to the Dream: On writing sequels

I very much love what John Gardner said in his On Becoming a Novelist: good fiction is “a vivid and continuous dream.” Now that I’m writing sequels to my debut novel, this quote has sparked a question: What happens when you wake from this dream, only to return to it in a later book?

As a reader, I devour the first book in a series, drool over the not-yet-published sequel, then plunge in and cross my fingers, hoping that, among the flashy new characters and plot twists, I find old friends and kindly reminders of names, family trees, and facts I might have forgotten. And sure enough, my favorite authors lull me into their stories without losing or boring me along the way. Of course, that’s easy for a reader to want. The writer is the one who has to stitch it all together.

With this in mind, I started my second novel a bit nervously. When I wrote my debut, Other, I wasn’t even thinking about a sequel being concocted. But it was, and it was called Bloodborn. More of a companion novel than a direct sequel, Bloodborn takes tertiary characters from Other and makes them primary. Since both novels are set in an alternate America where paranormal people (Others) exist publically, with a variety of cultural effects, I had some of my own worldbuilding rules to abide by.

(I could have played the, “I am the author; I am the god of this story!” card and smote all my old characters, repopulating my world with unicorns and dragons, but I have the distinct impression my editor—and readers—would flog me.)

Most importantly, though, I wanted the two books to feel the same.

If a reader loves Other, I want them to love Bloodborn, or at least feel they are returning to the dreamworld I created before. Of course, Bloodborn features a different cast of characters. There are cameo appearances from the stars of Other, and nearly all the werewolves reappear, but other than that, Brock, our protagonist, is a stranger to the reader. No, it’s trickier than that—he’s actually an antagonist in Other, so the reader should be predisposed to dislike him. Maybe hate his guts for being prejudiced and unkind. Why, Karen, would you be so masochistic? Because I relish a good challenge.

See, while Bloodborn tackles some of the same themes in Other­—prejudice, finding yourself, and being able to go public with your identity—it doesn’t rehash the same plotline. Brock hates werewolves. That’s why he’s a bad guy in the first book, and an anti-hero in the second. Now that he’s been bitten, he’s become the very thing he despised. He must overcome his hatred, or the consequences will be fatal. Before, we see only hints of this brewing conflict, only the beginning of Brock’s struggles to change into a better person. Other isn’t his story. Bloodborn, however, is.

I can’t speak for my readers, and say whether Bloodborn has succeeded magnificently or not. It doesn’t come out until September 8. But I can say that as a writer, I learned this: I didn’t need to redream Other. Sure, one night you might have this fantastic dream, but trying to force it back into being the next time you’re in bed can result only in shadowy disappointment.

While you definitely want to keep the continuity of a series intact—otherwise a reader will have a rude awakening—you, as author, also have the power to explore far beyond the borders of the earlier story. A new novel in a series might star recurring characters, in the same unforgettable world, but it also should dare to tantalize and surprise the imagination with new possibilities. Don’t be afraid to move beyond the conflicts and characters of your earlier story, and delve even deeper in your world.

Sweet dreams.