How I write a sequel


I was talking to a friend (who also happens to be a reader) recently, and she asked me how I know when a story is finished, when there's still more story left to tell, and how those two things play together to create sequels -- and, eventually, complete series.

We were specifically talking about City of Fire (sequel to Gore Point), but it applies to any sequel. I'll use that example here ... but no worries; I can do it without spoilers.

I should also pause here to remind you that the City of Fire Kickstarter campaign is happening right now but is ending soon. In that campaign, you can get the special editions of both books in the series so far (City of Fire and Gore Point), and all of the hardbacks are signed.

All Kickstarter backers will also get the "What's Their Fate" (WTF) version of the Gore-Point-world book Mine Zero (a branching narrative story, where you can click around the ebook to choose what happens -- something I've never done before and a story that you can ONLY get in the campaign). That campaign ends soon, though, so click here to join it before it does (and get that WTF Mine Zero book free as a bonus).

Anyway, here's how I thought about that series, in terms of sequels and whatnot.

When Sean and I finished writing Gore Point, we knew already that we'd be writing a trilogy. For one, the series was always planned that way, and for two, we'd ended book one on a cliffhanger. It would have been a dick move to just leave everyone hanging, with no resolution. So of course a sequel was forthcoming.

But ... that first book could easily have been structured differently. Avoiding spoilers, Gore Point could have ended after the climactic final scene. I chose to add a twist to propel the reader's interest into the second book, but if you've read Gore Point, you can imagine how simple it would have been to just not add the twist and end with resolution instead.

The rule of thumb for books in a series is to conclude that book's story entirely, then open a window into a newer, bigger version of the story at the end -- a story that will be told, at least partway, in the next book. That means that either way, the author should finish the first book's story rather than requiring readers to continue the series to hear how the initial story ended. (This is in contrast to SERIALS (different from SERIES), which don't need to conclude until the end of the final book.)

The reason I'm pointing this out is so you'll see that regardless of whether there's a second book or not, the first book should truly end in its final pages. That means that in all cases, the second book is optional. An interested reader will want to see how the overall "larger world" story turns out, but readers could also just stop after one book and feel that they got the entirety of at least the initial, smaller story.

So although we knew there'd be a second Gore Point book (and a third), we still wrote the first book more or less the same way as if it'd been a stand-alone novel. We just added a peek into the larger world at the end: a twist we hoped would keep you interested in the world as a whole.

Basically, then, there are two reasons we'd write a sequel for any book:

  1. Because there's more story left to tell.
  2. Because we want to.

In my experience, #1 is up to the writer, and depends mostly on how complete they were when writing the first book. Pretty Killer, for instance, tells a complete story. There'd be zero point to writing a sequel simply because the story is finished.

Oh, I could probably make up another story with those same characters in Pretty Killer, but why? If you've read the book, you know there's technically an opportunity to tell a similar story with the same group one year later, but it'd be reaching. We all know it'd be reaching.

The same goes for all of my stand-alone novels: The story has been told, so ... you know ... stop already. It just makes sense.

But in a lot of stories, that's not the case. This is particularly true for "world" stories like fantasy, sci-fi, or some horror, where I've invented something that doesn't exist in real life. There's pretty much always more story to tell there.

In those cases, it comes down to #2: Do we want to spend more time in that world, exploring aspects of it that are larger than those covered in the first book?

(NOTE: Sometimes, "want to" partly means "want to sell more books," because sequels tend to sell better than stand-alones. I don't normally think that way first, though. I have to want to tell the story (and feel there's more to it) first of all. Sales are a bonus beyond that.)

If I (or we) do want to write a sequel and need to decide what it should be about, I simply ask myself, "what's bigger than what I've already written?"

I also sort of ask myself what comes next, but usually "what comes next for the characters" comes naturally out of asking "how will the characters deal with something bigger." That IS what's next.

In Gore Point, Adrian and Ray fight rifts to Hell and discover there's more to it all than they've been told. But in City of Fire, they actually go into Hell itself.

That's bigger.

Similarly, in Fat Vampire, Reginald fights the Vampire Council. In Fat Vampire 2, he fights angels.

Which are bigger than vampires.

Extending this, book 3 is a prelude to a war that consumes books 4-6. War is even bigger than the angels .

The "bigger" of the Dead City trilogy is obvious from the titles: Dead City, Dead Nation, and Dead Planet.

That's always my thinking. It's also why all of my series end up enormous in scope, usually covering the entire planet by the end, and centering on enormous themes like good vs evil, light vs dark, old vs new. By the end, I've usually exposed two very different ends of a spectrum ... and if you've read much of my stuff, you'll know that the truth, at least in my worlds of fiction, always ends up being synergy: the genesis of something new between those extremes.

The rest is details. If you're not a writer, that probably sounds absurd, but it's true. Knowing the "what" is the hard part. The "how" tends to fall more easily into place for me -- in part because I actually need LESS information to start a story rather than MORE. Having too may ideas at the beginning of a story actually screws me up.

So deciding "Adrian and Ray will enter Hell in City of Fire because that's 'bigger'" was most of the battle. Once I knew they'd be leading an expedition into Hell itself, the rest (motivations, reasoning, mission, and new characters) actually fell into place pretty easily.

Anyway, I'll just drop a final reminder that the City of Fire Kickstarter is ending soon, and this is the best deal on it you're going to get. You'll get to read it four months early, get the branching-narrative version of Mine Zero as a bonus, and can get the special edition (signed) as well as all the extras I only do for Kickstarters.

Click here to join the City of Fire Kickstarter campaign ... and yes, you can get the special editions and non-special versions of Gore Point (the first book) as part of this campaign, too.

If you have any questions about any of this, just hit Reply and let me know!

Thanks for being a reader,
JT

Literary As F**k

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