This week, I turned in the outline for the sequel to my first published novel. Before this book, I’d never written anything that might prompt a sequel or even a connected follow-up. Many of my writer friends would naturally gravitate towards series, either planned or serendipitous, but my muse sidestepped them. My buddies would be awash in story arcs involving a family of seventeen hunky firemen/SEAL/Greek tycoon brothers. I’d rarely have an unmarried best friend who could “star in her own book.” But I’d contracted a series, which meant I was going to write a sequel.
As soon as I figured out how.
Utilizing all my leftover scholarly impulses, I decided to take the analytical approach. After all, people tend to have a very strong love-hate relationship with sequels. I want to make sure I stayed on the “love” side of the equation. In the process, I discovered more than how to write one. I learned the secret to winning my own sequel heart.
First I made a list of sequels that I liked as much or even better than the originals: The Empire Strikes Back, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Anne of Avonlea, Prince Caspian, A Girl of the Limberlost, Ghostbusters II, Midnighters 2: Touching Darkness, Hearts Aflame, Speaker For the Dead, and The Odyssey. Then I considered the sequels that I abhorred or considered an abomination of the original: The Matrix Reloaded, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, The Last Battle, Children of the Mind, any Rocky with a number after the name, the subsequent Dunes. I began to catalogue what worked and didn’t about the various sequels, so that I could figure out what pitfalls to avoid.
For instance, judging from my dislike of both the Matrix and the Dune sequels, I realized that it would never do to make a character omnipotent at the end of book one. Because, I thought, if your protagonist is a god, there’s nowhere to go but down. However, it was unlikely my co-ed protagonist would find herself beatified, let alone deified. I was safe there.
Since my sequel would have the same primary characters as the original, I threw out examples where the sequel dealt with subsequent generations. This, unfortunately, got rid of most of the romances. Because romances are a courtship novel for a particular couple, it’s unlikely that the follow-up would deal with the same couple. More likely, they’d deal with the couple’s children (as in Hearts Aflame), other relatives, friends, coworkers, etc. The romances that starred the same couples (the Bridget Jones sequel, for instance) tended to introduce contrived reasons for the couple to split up, which, at least in my mind, undermined the “happily ever after” that seemed so genuine in book one. Call me crazy, but when the first book says they live happily ever after, I want to believe it. (cf. this RTB classic, “Tell Me No Sequels.)
As my database grew with sequel and series Do’s and Don’ts, I began to realize that my opinion of a sequel had a lot to do with how it made me revaluate the first book. I liked sequels that showcased natural character progression, expanded worldbuilding that didn’t contradict the first, and dedication to the characters, relationships and expectations that I liked in book one.
I hated ones that were flat out retreads of the original, a sort of “nudge nudge, remember this?” catalog of inside-jokes for the readers who’d been following along. On the other end of the spectrum, I also hated sequels that betrayed everything that the first had led me to believe. A good sequel, I realized, needed to be the same, but different. It needed to make me feel the way I did when I read the first one, but be a different story entirely. Pretty tall order, but that’s the price for keeping the reader’s interest. The first book belongs to the writer. Subsequent books belong to the writer and the readers. They have as much invested in the world as the writer does.
What about you? Which sequels do you love and why, and which do you hate, and why? I bet we can find your pattern, too.
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This post couldn’t have come at a better time, Diana! I’m beginning to think about a sequel to a book I had no intention of doing one for. Not only that, the sequel will have to take me and the reader deeper into an alien world I know nothing about right now *gg*.
I didn’t really have a place to start other than a few jotted ideas, but I’m going to use your method to help brainstorm.
As for sequels I’ve hated: Dead Man’s Walk (technically a prequel to Lonesome Dove). To be fair, few books will ever come close to affecting me the way Lonesome Dove did, but the prequel/sequel was just poorly written without the epic character development. Also, the characters didn’t sound the same. It’s like McMurtry had no idea who these people really were as youths, and what shaped them into the monumental people they became in LD, but wrote a book about them anyway. I felt cheated.
I chuckled through most of your article. So much of what you say is true. I think good sequels have good characters and good stories. It sounds simplistic, but it works for me.
An example is Lord of the Rings. The characters were well developed and complex, the story was compelling. Each episode was built on the good bones of the last. Simple, right?
A sequel that didn’t work for me was Star Wars Episode I. I just wanted to banish little Anakin to the dark side immediately. The story was okay, but that little kid could not act!!
I liked Episode II much better. They got Anakin right. Yummy!! But again in Episode III it seemed the story bogged down. Yawn. Plus Padme’ became soooo helpless. Argghh!! Where was the bug killing, lizard-launching princess from Episode II?
Sarah, I didn’t include any of the Lord of the Rings books in my study, because to me, they are not so much sequels, but the same story, split into three parts for ease of bookbinding. If anything, you could say that The Lord of the Rings was a sequel to The Hobbit. In which case — DEFINITELY expanded worldbuilding. Also, pretty substantive changes in characters. Elrond in The Hobbit was a carefree sprite. And the ring was… not a big deal. Bilbo wore it constantly!
Excellent post, and so timely. Am working on sequel thoughts too in my humble way.
Especially liked your idea of natural character development”.
To that I would add natural plot/relationship development, ie. even if a major crisis/conflict is resolved, it is not necessarily dead and ended; and some relationships reach an accord that naturally can be influenced by those crisis/conflicts.
All that said, I do like the Mercedes Lackey series.
I haven’t read Lonesome Dove, but I understand what you mean by “cheated,” Ann. It’s almost like when new writer takes over a TV series, and all of a sudden, the characters are completely altered? Same name, different personality…
Neither have I read Mercedes Lackey, Bernita. But I think you’re right. It important for major changes to take place, even at the risk of alienating some readers. Sometimes, major characters need to be killed off. Sometimes, alliances need to change. I don’t think that was the part that bothered me about the Matrix sequels. It was more that everything was so sloppy and disjointed.
And of course, every sequel needs to be its own story, not just a birdge between stories.
Sarah, let us not speak of the new Star Wars movies.
I hated Scarlett. Even though Gone With the Wind didn’t have a happily ever after ending, there was no need to imagine what the characters did afterwards.
I think, for me, there are sequels that are continuing series and we go along for the ride to see what new developments, journeys, progress needs to be made by characters that we love and root for. For example, I love all the Black Stallion books, although the first is “the” classic.
I love, love, loved Janet Evanovich’s first five Stephanie Plum novels. Funny, irreverent and sexy.
The problem was the nature of the protagonist. Stephanie starts out as an incompetent bounty hunter, thrown into the profession by the desire to pay the rent. Hilarity ensues.
After about five books, one starts to wonder how she can still be so bleeping incompetent. Evanovich sort of writes herself into a corner, where the dilemma is “Allow the character to grow at the risk of losing the funny.”
Basically, the schtick started to get old.
It seems to be a dilemma in many series. How to keep that which first charmed readers and let the character grow.
Really? Chamber of Secrets? I always thought that was the weakest in the series, though after book 6, I’m prepared to rethink that a little.
And I love Edge of Reason, but that could be because I read it first. I don’t remember it reading like a sequel.
Sequels that read like sequels can be annoying – you very often hit a series third or fourth book in, and there is nothing more annoying than a book that makes you feel you’re starting reading in the wrong place. I don’t like the sort of book that hauls characters from past books needlessly into the story, or includes backstory irrelevant to the current plot – ‘he would ask his friend, Lord Sebastian, who just last summer had fallen in love with the flame-haired Countess of Hackney.’
My other big gripe would be characters that change from between books because the author needs them to play a different role. An Alpha hero from Book 1 who is suddenly prepared to let Hero 2 take control, for example.
I love sequels as long as the characters don’t get too buggered up. Like Anita Blake. I hate to say it, but the introduction of the ardeur (which forced a mostly-chaste character into being the biggest whore around, with little or no control about who she screwed) just blew a good series to shreds.
And I must agree that shouldn’t Stephanie get better at work by now? Though at least it was mentioned in the last book that she wasn’t buggering up while working for Ranger. For once.
I thought Chamber of Secrets was the weakest of the first four, but only mildly. I still liked it as much as the first one. I thought number five was a piece of crap. Compared to that, I like number two plenty.
The Stephanie Plum thing reminds me a lot of the Becky Bloomwood thing. Why hasn’t that chick gotten professional help? Still, I can’t help watching her — she’s like a train wreck!
I’m following the threads about Harry Potter, because I’m a huge fan! Some may already know that I’m a high school teacher, and love that my students voluntarily read these HUGE books (when typically, they follow the “pinky rule” when choosing a book. Oh, com’n. You know the pinky rule: If it’s bigger than your pinky– don’t read it.)
Anyway, in my experience, girls typically don’t like Chamber as much as guys do. Many of my male students liked it better than the first. My theory– typically, the girls like the complex relationship building books, the boys like the adventure, suspence books. That’s why my girls like The Hobbit more and my guys like LOTR trilogy books more. I have found that my girls like 1, 3, and 5 the most. The boys like 2 and 4 (four being the favorite). Six was the least favorite because a major character died. No, it’s only partly because of that. After all, they still like 5. I think it’s because, unlike the other books, it doesn’t stand alone. You almost had to have the other books at hand for ready reference! Ninth graders find that confusing.
Now that I’ve rambled on about HP (you guys will learn not to get me started on Harry one of these days
) I have to say that I really enjoyed your post. I’m getting started on my first sequel myself. It’s the second book in a series about werewolves. The thing is, all of my books do fit together. The main character of the second book was introduced in the first book. He will also be an intricate part of the rest of the series because he is the rightful alpha male of the Lycaon clan. Oops, I’ve said too much.
What have I learned? I want to do what J K Rowling did with her first five books– Make them stand alone, so that you can do what I did– start with the third book without being confused. I guess I’m also aiming for what she’s doing with Harry’s story. Each book has a complex story that stands by itself, each book is a new adventure, but the first six books are all building towards a major climax– a huge battle.
Luckily, I’m writing romance! So, while I fear that Harry can’t have a happy ending
my series will 
That’s for an excellent, exciting post. It has inspired me! Off to write!
Pat,
I am also a big Stephanie Plum fan and you are so right. She has stagnated of late and something has gotta change for that Jersey girl. I wish she would go on a hush-hush adventure with Ranger to a place like Paris.
She and Lulu could destroy a Citroen for a change, eat real French fries, and get into lots of trouble with the gendarmes.
And it’d be nice to learn more about Ranger. I mean folded underwear and a meticulous all black wardrobe are unusual for a straight guy in my experience. And I don’t know about you but my man doesn’t know from thread count. If it’s on the bed he sleeps in it.
BTW, Have you tried Metro Girl, yet? I see she’s turning that into a series as well.
Trista – I always thought Chamber was a filler – that Rowling had written Philosopher’s Stone, then just written a tangentially connected adventure story, before book 3 resumed the proper story arc. But once you’ve read six, it becomes apparent Chamber is part of the plan. My daughter’s theory is that in Book 7, the fact that Ginny had that experience will be pivotal.
I didn’t like five when I read it first, because I got bored with Harry being so sullen all the time – but I have to say book six was a great hit in our family (3 daughters and me) except that my husband didn’t like it – and I think you’re right, we liked all the relationship stuff, which bores him.
FWIW, we’d bear out your theory about Tolkein as well – I reread The Hobbit often, but only got through LoTR once, whereas my husband would be a LoTR man.
Have you read children’s series The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper? I think she also managed to have the books work by themselves, and still have the series work as a single story.
I believe that the greatest sequel of all time is The Godfather #2. Looking back now, it fulfills all the requirements of a good sequel as you’ve stated above.
And the godfather #3 was so horrible it doesn’t even deserve capital letters.
Marianne– you’re right about Chamber. It would seem that it’s central to the overall plot. It is our first clue that Ginny is going to be important, and it also introduces us, though we didn’t know it at the time to the idea of a Horcrux. Ginny is the seventh daughter of seven children, which is significant, usually denoting power. (The 7th daughter motif is common in all types of literature involving magic. I’m pretty sure Christine Feehan will play on that in her Drake Sisters series.)
I haven’t read The Dark Rising, but I’m always looking for books to share with my students and kids! Thanks for sharing that with me!
LOL-Karmela on godfather 3. I loved Godfather and Godfather 2, but haven’t read three. Guess I’m not missing much?
Have to admit, I loved every last Potter book. Even 5, which was least favorite, was still really loved. But I view those less as sequels than as continuations. Like LOTR, they tell the full story just in 7 rather than 3 books. And I hope they have a happy ending because I just can’t stand it if any of the three main characters dies or something
The Matrix did not surprise me re it being bad. The Cohen brothers were proven to have stolen the original story if I remember correctly, so not being able to write a sequel is not much of a surprise. THAT did disappoint me. I felt there were tons of questions to be answered: Where would the resources come from for food, etc. as people awakened? Who awakened first, where were they? How was Zion surviving? Was the surface livable at all?
IMO, the most brilliant movie sequel was . . . “Toy Story 2″. No, really, that had all the charm of the original. Book wise, I also like the “Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants” and in romance, Dara Joy’s “Matrix of Destiny” each seemed to stand alone while still encompassing information from the last book.
I think the definition given in the article is excellent: “I liked sequels that showcased natural character progression, expanded worldbuilding that didn’t contradict the first, and dedication to the characters, relationships and expectations that I liked in book one.”
As far as my pet peeves go with sequels: Don’t let important action happen off the page. And don’t change character’s personalities. That isn’t a sequel — that’s a new book cashing in on old success.
maggie b.
maggie b.
In my genre – Fantasy – sequels and trilogies are common. The trick as I see it is to find a new story for a new book – the same characters can go through a sequel of events, but their personal focus is different – instead of ‘will she find true love’ it becomes ‘will they both live with their in-laws prejudices’ while all the time they’re working to defeat the Dark Lord. Or something
Even in the long-term, life-plan, driven-by-externals plotlines, a different focus can be, not just helpful, but vital. If the first book showed a character trying to succeed in her chosen career and starting out, the second might show her after her promotion – but the new role has a whole new set of problems. You take what has been achieved in book I for granted – she’s competent and people know it – and you look for a new challenge.