Last week I touched on some long-running mystery series and today, I’m addressing the flip side of the coin, which I touched on briefly, the potential downside of writing a series—saying:

The world of crime and mystery fiction tends to, (appropriately), be a heightened reality full of danger and demanding every ounce of physical, intellectual and moral fortitude from the protagonist to succeed or at least survive. To ask a character to rise to the occasion countless times, stretches the credibility of the fictional universe, (unless of course it is a supernatural or fantastic world), they inhabit, dilutes the reader’s sense of danger, (after all, the character has survived situations w, x, and y, why not z?) and perhaps saps the artist’s spark.

Raymond Chandler’s Marlowe had a great run of six books, plus short stories, and I don’t know of anyone who argues that The Long Goodbye isn’t every bit as good, (if not better), than The Big Sleep. Goodbye is a great closing note for the series and it’s precisely because I loved the character and world as much as I do, that I’m grateful that it was not spun off into infinity, (I have not read the posthumously published Poodle Springs—completed by Robert B. Parker—so I can’t authoritatively comment on it, but I feel quite satisfied and comfortable calling Goodbye the final act).

And there are series that I continue to read long past the point of being capable of enjoying them on the level that the first few titles were enjoyable for me. One is James Lee Burke’s Dave Robicheaux. I read Burke, (therefore Robicheaux), for so much more than just the excitement of the plot, I read him, more now, for the pleasure of the prose, which roles off the page with a rugged, lyrical grace that is rare and beautiful.

Let me be clear. I wish he’d stop with the Robicheaux already. Not that there’s anything wrong with each book on it’s own, but frankly, I wish he’d choose a random character name out of a hat than continue to ascribe these numerous stories to the same man. After a while, I have to pretend that the other books don’t exist every time I pick one up, just so I don’t get bogged down with the improbability of so much happening to the same guy. (But don’t get me wrong, he keeps writing 'em, I’ll keep reading them).

A couple examples of series that worked well for me come from George Pelecanos. Both his Nick Stefanos and Derek Strange books to me were great examples of how to write a character series—they both had series-long arcs, following the protagonist through personal changes and the consequences of each title built into the character right up to the end. And they did. End, that is.

Or how about Dennis Lehane’s Gennaro/Kenzie books? Again, each built on the last, heightening rather than diluting the stakes until… Well, after twelve years, I guess we’re going to find out when Moonlight Mile drops this fall.

So then, it looks to me like three to four books in a series is just about perfect, but what do I know?

What about you? Any favorite short series?

Jedidiah Ayres writes fiction and keeps the blog Hardboiled Wonderland.