Graceful Endings

I write a series. In fact, I write a serial series, since reading the Bridgeton Park Cemetery books in order is a good idea in order to make sense of everything. And since I write a series/serial, I pay a great deal of attention to 1) how long other authors keep their own series going and 2) how they end it, if they choose to end it.

Everyone who knows me knows that there are particular series I read. There are the Davenport and Virgil Flowers series by John Sandford, there is the Sigma series by James Rollins, and then there is the Reacher series by Lee Child. There are a few others, too, like the Cotton Malone books from Steve Berry, and the Pendergast novels from Douglas Preston and Lee Child. I once saw John Sandford speak at an author signing, and he said he would never kill off his Davenport character, which I was greatly happy to hear. I never feel the same about a series if I know it ends with a character’s death. (Ask me if I ever read Curtain, Agatha Christie’s finale for Hercule Poirot. Uh, that would be “no.”)

But I have read series that have come to decent conclusions. Harry Potter comes to mind. So do the Sookie Stackhouse books. I like the Stackhouse books so much that I couldn’t watch the show True Blood. That aside, both JK Rowling and Charlaine Harris did an amazing job in bringing their stories to completion. And as far as Harry P goes, well, his universe has sprouted legs and is continuing on with different characters anyway.  

There are also series that have continued despite the original author stepping away. James Bond is a great example of that. I know Raymond Benson, the first writer approved by the Fleming estate to continue with 007’s adventures. He’s a terrific writer and I’m not surprised that he got the nod to do it. I think Sherlock Holmes has continued in various incarnations. And I know Tony Hillerman’s legacy is being continued by his daughter. But here’s my personal heartbreaker: I read recently that Lee Child is stepping away from Jack Reacher and turning the entire enterprise over to his brother, who is also a writer. That means that the last Jack Reacher book I read –just finished, actually- is the last genuine Reacher book as written by his creator. I will give Mr. Child’s brother a chance and see what he does. Who knows? I hope the new books are wonderful. But boy, he’s got big shoes to fill.

Keeping a series going, or ending it, is a pretty dicey enterprise. I know there have been screen and TV adaptations that fans were not thrilled with. Mention the last show of Game of Thrones to most of its fans and then stand back so you don’t get splashed with the vitriol that will spout forth. Ask a random Star Wars fan about The Rise of Skywalker. And then there’s The Terminator series…

I am not writing this because I am contemplating ending Bridgeton Park. But I do keep an eye on how the writers I admire ply their talents to bring their characters where they want them to go, whether that means continuing on, or ringing the final bell at the end of numerous accounts and adventures. And like most fans, I feel sad when a series I love comes to an end. As a writer, I understand why this would happen and why a writer might feel the need to finish. As Willy Wonka said, “I can’t go on forever. And I really don’t want to.” Or something to that effect. So I totally understand the need to draw something to a close. At least, I do as a writer. But as a reader and a fan? No matter how gracefully the end comes, I am totally saddened when it does.

PS - Not to cause any confusion: This was the working title/cover for book three, the one that eventually became Drawing Vengeance. Thought I'd share it!

Searching for a Speedier Process

I have attended all sorts of classes related to writing. I’ve gone to workshops on how to get published. I’ve sat through panels about marketing. Heck, I’ve taught a few sessions in my time—classes about writing a novel, classes about writing a paranormal novel, even a recent one about self-publishing. But in all my years of listening to writers, reading about the publishing industry, seeking out tips on how to improve my craft, I have never found the secret to the one thing I wish I could master: how to speed up my own process.

Yesterday, I made a belated announcement that 2019 would not see the release of a new Bridgeton Park Cemetery book. I held off on putting that statement out into the world because I was still hoping, very unrealistically as it turns out, that I could still pull a completed novel out of my hat before we reached 2020. Not happening.

Part of the problem has been a change in my schedule. I’ve lost twenty hours of free time a week, which may not sound like much but is actually a complete game changer. It’s not just the writing time that’s missing for me; I’m also missing time to do everything around the house that needs doing. So if my housework/chore/daily upkeep time is crunched, my writing time is even more so. And not only that, changing hats from my daily job to my particular world of fiction isn’t always that easy a transition. If only I were just changing hats. But it’s actually a matter of changing my mindset, and it’s not always so easy to switch gears from what’s going on at the office to what’s going on with Cassie and Michael.

I’m also dealing with a chronic health issue that’s been going on for a year, now, and maybe I’m getting close to resolving it, but I won’t know that for sure for another couple of months, or so. Sigh.

Writing this to depress any of you is not my goal. It’s basically me just mulling over what happened during the last part of 2019 and realizing why the book didn’t get finished, even though I’m nearly halfway through it. At least, I hope I am.

So I really wish that I could find a way to speed up my writing process. I’ve never been very fast at putting a novel down on paper. I think it’s because for most of my life, I was always writing around an imposed schedule: the amount of time when I could sit down and write out a novel-length story was limited and only available to me in fits and starts. The past few years, I got lucky and had a great deal of free time to work on my stories. But things have changed back to the way they used to be and now I’m scrambling to re-learn how to write in fits and starts, if that’s all the time I’ve got.

Some people just work more quickly than I do. I sooo envy Stephen King his speed. I know he has the discipline to sit down at his keyboard every single day and write, so maybe I’m actually envying his discipline. But even if I had that discipline, and believe me, there was a time there that I did, I can’t produce an encyclopedia-length tome in less than a year, or maybe more like a matter of months, the way he does it. Maybe not many writers can. Still, the writers I read seem to be able to put out at least one or two books per year, every year. I did that just once, in 2017, when I released both These Living Eyes and Touching Shadow, Stealing Light in the same year. Truth be told, my brain went fallow after that second book came out, and it took some doing to get myself back together enough to produce She Weeps. So maybe I’m really not wired to work that quickly.

Reading a novel should take the reader on a journey. I find it interesting, and possibly just a smidge ironic, that writing a novel, any novel, also takes me on a journey. I don’t mind. I just wish sometimes on my journey that I had 1) an actual map and 2) a much, much speedier process.

2018 – Another Year of Writing

In 2017, I set the goal for myself of publishing two Bridgeton Park Cemetery books in one year. This may not sound like a huge accomplishment compared to the most productive writers I know and know of: Stephen King, Megg Jensen, Mark Dawson, my own good friend Terri Reid. But for me that was a huge, huge accomplishment, seeing as how it used to take me about three years to finish one book. I know, I know; prolific is not my middle name.

So I did it. I wrote and released two books in 2017. And in 2018, I found myself to be completely wordless. As in, the reservoir was temporarily empty. I am blown away by writers who can put work out as rapidly as they do. I am not among their number. After I finish a novel, I normally need some time to recover. “Some time” can be anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. I just need that much time to recharge. I guess it takes that long to replenish the part of me that goes into writing the book because I do use up some of me with every book I write. I wish it was as easily replaced as electrolytes, but whatever it is, it isn’t. Easily replaced, that is.

Thus, my BPC entry for 2018 was mondo late. There is no other way to put it. Originally I meant to have it out in May because then I figured I’d get that second book out in October, just like in 2017. Not so much. Then I thought I’d make it by July. Nope. And then I began to realize, this thing won’t be ready until Halloween and if I make that, it’ll be a small miracle. I was lucky: I got my miracle, and She Weeps saw the light of day in October.

Maybe what helped was co-authoring a book with Terri. Our little tome, Ghosts, Graves, and Groves went live in September and I think having a book out with my name on it, even though it wouldn’t have happened without Terri, took some of the pressure off me. It let me relax just a little bit and once that happened, writing the last third of She Weeps came a bit easier. Because while the writing can come very easily, there are also times when putting down each word is like extracting my own teeth with a pair of pliers: great effort and a lot of pain.

So now I am looking into the open expanse of 2019 and wondering what that will bring. I have the beginnings of Cassie’s and Michael’s next adventure. I also have the beginnings for another book, one I’ve had in my head for a long time (read: years) and am beginning to wonder if I should actually commit to writing. If I do that, this would be another two-book year. But with two different sets of characters. I wonder if that will make the process different for me. Maybe less taxing? Maybe more so? I guess I won’t know about that unless I try.

So in the meantime, I need to clear my office, clear my head, and find more writing music. Because January is about to hit and when it does, I hope to look at that blank screen and find the opening words for my next written offering.