Standalones v Series.

You’ve Gotta Know When To Hold ‘Em, Know When To Fold ‘Em, Know When to Walk Away, And Know When To Run…

Ah, the age old question: to sequel or not to sequel. Such a simple question and yet it haunts every burgeoning author’s waking hours.

For some, the decision is as clear as day. For others…well, not so much.

Even if you planned your story to be a standalone novel or vice versa once you actually begin writing you may find out you were grossly mistaken.

Perhaps the trilogy you envisioned can actually be condensed into a single, kick ass book. Then again, maybe your standalone novel has ballooned in scope and you find yourself needing to expand it into multiple installments.

The question is: how do you know when to commit to either, especially if you began writing with one or the other in mind? The answer is deceptively simple and therefore treacherously complex: pacing.

In general, standalone novels are self-contained and have a beginning, middle, and end. The major plot threads are wrapped up and everything has a bow on it, so to speak. A series, meanwhile, requires a longer overarching story be told to where each book has its own conflicts and resolutions while also moving the overall “main storyline” toward the final conclusion.

Is one better than the other? Absolutely not.

Is it going to stick out like a sore thumb if you choose to go the wrong way with your story? You bet!

You see, whether an author has tried to stretch or condense their story too much the pacing of said yarn will be completely borked. Unfortunately, I think we’ve all had the pleasure of reading a book that felt either too rushed or too dull for our liking. For the former the author was likely trying to cram far too much in too short a time while in conversely in the latter they don’t have enough to say to fill the pages leaving you with the literary equivalent of white noise as they desperately toss filler out onto the page.

If you’re struggling with making a sequel or not I’d first look at your editing process. If you cand edit your story into a concise narrative then don’t ruin it by adding on unnecessary fat (ie if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it). On the other hand, if telling your story in one sitting requires you to roll out a manuscript so dense it puts Tolstoy to shame you may want to think about breaking that sucker up into more manageable chunks (ie time to serialize).

Now, the tricky part is when you’re right on the border of having huge manuscript that wraps everything up. Sure it could be split into two books, but barely. What to do then? Well, I know this is an unpopular opinion, dear reader, but at that point I unfortunately would have to advise you to start shooting some of your sacred cows. Start looking for where things can be condensed, combined, or eliminated entirely. As hard as that sounds, trust me: it’s far easier to streamline a fat narrative into a more easily digestible one than to try to seamlessly inject extraneous material to extend it without ruining the overall cohesion.

It’s going to be hard. It’s certainly not going to be fun. But, trust me, it’s better for you in the long run.

So there’s a quick and dirty run down of sequels and standalones dear reader. Here’s hoping it helped, and good luck!