Writing a long-running series is a challenging undertaking. With each new book, the goal is to stretch the boundaries, to keep expanding the possibilities for the characters – and do that without breaking the rules of the series.
Because every series has rules. Some of them are small but important – they tell us who these characters are. For example, old-school cop Harry Bosch is not going to suddenly give up classic jazz and start listening to Taylor Swift. Joe Pickett won’t take off his cowboy hat and put on a beret.
Other rules are baked in so deeply that to break them is to break the entire series. Jack Reacher settling down and having kids? Not gonna happen. Chief Inspector Armand Gamache moving to Tucson to sell real estate? Uh, no.
Every once in a while, though, a series writer wants to step outside the box, color outside the lines – in other words, break some rules. That’s exactly how I felt when starting my eighth Peter Ash novel, The Price You Pay. I wanted to create something outside the bounds of what I’d done previously, something that would push my characters farther than I’d ever pushed them before – and also make me push myself as a writer.
I did this by reversing the roles of the main character, Peter Ash, and his best friend, the semi-retired career criminal Lewis. Instead of Peter meeting someone in trouble, and calling on Lewis when things get rough, this time it’s Lewis in trouble, needing Peter’s help. This dynamic allowed me to dig deeply into Lewis’s mysterious past, bringing up long-buried secrets that will threaten everyone they care about. This not only raises the stakes in an entirely new and personal way, it also allows readers to see Lewis as they never have before.
Before I began writing, however, I went back to four long-running series to see how some of my favorite authors have pushed their own boundaries. As it turned out, the books I found were not only some of my favorites in each series, they’re also standouts in excellence that showcase how series writers can really shine by breaking their own rules.
Robert Crais – The Watchman
(Elvis Cole and Joe Pike #11)
The first books in this excellent series were focused on Elvis Cole. Joe Pike had a strong and distinctive presence, but the early novels were primarily from Elvis’s point of view. L.A. Requiem was a departure from that model, featuring combined first- and third-person points of view, and it rocketed Crais into the very top tier of crime writers.
I loved L.A. Requiem, but for me, the book that really redefined the series was The Watchman. For my money, it’s the first true Joe Pike book. I already knew Crais had serious chops, but this book really knocked my socks off, even on my third read. The voice and tone are entirely different from the early Elvis novels, and Crais puts the reader in Joe Pike’s head and heart in an utterly convincing way.
After this book, the series was never the same – in the best way.
Lawrence Block, 8 Million Ways to Die and When the Sacred Ginmill Closes
(Matthew Scudder #5 and #6)
Of all the writers who have influenced me over the years, when I mention Lawrence Block, he somehow seems to have the least name recognition. Which I don’t understand at all, because Block’s Matthew Scudder series, about an alcoholic ex-cop who works as an unlicensed investigator, is one of the absolute best crimes series out there, racking up many awards and landing on best-seller lists. It’s also a master class in the long arc of character development, as Scudder starts low, slips down to rock bottom, and eventually pulls himself into sobriety. In addition to tight and compelling stories, the writing about alcohol and addiction feels utterly real and compelling without being overblown or melodramatic. (One of Block’s primary talents is a kind of elegant understatement.)
The first few books are, for me, a bit more workmanlike, but soon Block’s writing begins to soar – and he writes two out-of-the box books in a row. The first, 8 Million Ways to Die, ends with Scudder introducing himself at an AA meeting, which changes the entire course of the series. Then Block writes When the Sacred Ginmill Closes, a gritty story set more than a decade earlier, when Scudder’s addiction is raging out of control, and the reader gets to see what Scudder’s life might be like again, if he can’t keep himself sober – which raises the stakes of every novel that follows.
Simply put, I can’t recommend these books, and this series, more highly.
Lee Child – The Enemy
(Jack Reacher #8)
In Lee Child’s outstanding Jack Reacher series, the first seven books have Reacher, an ex-army loner, bulldozing his way through the present-day world as a civilian, although in several books Reacher does have a limited connection to law enforcement. In The Enemy, however, Child goes back to 1989 to show us Reacher’s life as the unit commander of the 110th Special Investigations Unit.
And Child reaps the rewards of this simple yet elegant choice. Although it is mentioned often in earlier books, readers had never really seen Reacher at work with the Special Investigators. Child also gives us Reacher’s real-time take on the Army, military life, and the chain of command. This combination deepens the reader’s understanding of the character and the series by showing the forces that shaped him and his choices later in life.
More than anything, though, this move into the past puts readers on notice that this series will go wherever Child wants to take us – and we’ll happily go along for the ride.
Robert Parker, A Catskill Eagle
(Spenser #12)
Parker’s Spenser series is legendary, especially the early books, which were truly groundbreaking in their characters and subject matter. In form, however, they stuck pretty close to the traditional private eye novel, recognizable from books by Dashiell Hammet, Raymond Chandler, and Ross Macdonald – perhaps because Parker’s Ph.D. thesis was principally about these three authors. In true P.I. fashion, Spenser’s cases were almost never about his own problems, but about his clients’.
A Catskill Eagle, however, was the exception that proved the rule. When the book opens, Spenser is estranged from his girlfriend, Susan Silverman, who has gotten herself into trouble. The entire novel is about Spenser’s love for Susan and his search for her – in effect, Spenser is his own client, something we hadn’t yet seen in a Parker book, and rarely saw after that. Whenever I talk to Parker fans, this book almost always comes up as a standout. For me, it’s the best in the series.
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