Ladies and gentlemen,
I am not Chuck Wendig.
Chuck Wendig is in this box here [points to large wooden box wrapped in chains. The box shifts as though something is struggling to get out]. But don’t worry. I’ve left him a couple of airholes.
Anyway, my name is Russel D McLean. If you have any trouble understanding me, don’t worry. That’s because I’m Scottish. I’m also a writer – author of two noir novels, the second of which, THE LOST SISTER, has just been released upon your United States. In celebration I’m doing a series of invasions of other author’s blogs in a manic attempt to shill… uh, I mean spread the beautiful word.
Anyway, while Chuck’s locked away I figured I’d talk a little about sequels. Because, ya know, the new book is kind of a sequel (or at least the second in a sequence that started with THE GOOD SON) and I found myself thinking a lot about what that meant.
A sequel has to achieve a lot of stuff. It has to pull in new readers while pleasing old ones. It has to remain true to established facts while giving something new. It has to stand on its own and yet acknowledge the past.
It has to do something different.
Oh, yes. That’s the one that most people forget. While it’s considered the safe action to rehash old glories – see National Treasure 2, The Mummy 2 etc etc – what you wind up doing is boring people. Because while people think they want the same experience, what the really need is that same sense of excitement and unpredictability they got the first time round. It’s just tougher to put that into words than it is to say, “more of the same please”.
Why is THE GODFATHER PART II considered a perfect sequel? It expands upon and gives new life and new perspective on the first movie while still telling its own perfectly logical narrative. You could see GFII on its own, conceivably, and catch up to this world without having seen the original. Sure, some of the grandeur would be lost, but you wouldn’t be so confused as to throw the movie away and then batter your head against a brick wall until your brains dribbled out your ears.
And not just when it comes to movies.
With THE LOST SISTER – which is a novel, not a movie* – I wanted to tell two stories. First there is the story that stands on its own. The one about the missing girl. Mary Furst, a girl who has no apparent reason to run away, is missing. There are questions about her disappearance, facts that don’t add up. As Our Hero – J McNee – digs into her life, he uncovers some very uncomfortable truths.
That’s my A story. And sure it could have been enough to hold the book by itself. After all, we established our hero in book 1 and if you want, you can keep a series character static. Many people enjoy that kind of thing. Some writers do it wonderfully. Robert B Parker kept Spencer is stasis for decades. Lee Child rarely changes Reacher or gives us any more about him than we need to know.
But I’m not that kind of writer. I need to let my characters change. Be affected by events. So THE LOST SISTER became a chance for me to explore my central character and find more about what makes him tick. I wanted him to confront some of his own choices over the course of the book, to see things in the case that made him question his own ideals and motivations. I wanted there to be something different in his outlook by the end of the book. In short, I wanted to tell a different kind of story with the same characters. Because otherwise… what’s the point? It’s like eating lukewarm leftovers. There’s something in there you recognise, but really it’s not the same.
I also wanted to explore the supporting cast and to see how they reacted in different situations. People I hadn’t expected to see again. Susan Bright, for example, who was supposed to be a throwaway character in THE GOOD SON and became something far more important. And David Burns, local “businessman” who is one of my favourite characters to write for: a man who does bad things for what he believes to be all the right reasons.
THE LOST SISTER changes all of these characters by the end of the book. Not all of them get to “learn” from their experiences, of course. I think we’re all lucky that I’m not God. Because as cruel as He can (allegedly) be, I think I’d be even worse in charge, winding folks up just see how they’d react. But then that’s the job of a writer – wind those characters up and watch them go!
Word so far on THE LOST SISTER – both at home and now in the US – has been positive. I like to think that it’s a good sequel, that it does more than rehash former glories, that it changes things for our characters, that it presents with new challenges and new situations. I’ll tell you what, I had a bloody ball writing it.
The Lost Sister is out now from St Martin’s/Minotaur as shiny hardcover or e-book.
*At least, not yet, if any prospective producers out there are listening…
— THE LOST SISTER at Amazon, and B&N
Russel D. McLean is an author, reviewer and general miscreant from Dundee, Scotland. You can read more about him here, at his website and author page. Click the pic to follow him on Twitter.
8 responses to ““Sequelitis” (A Visit From The Mighty Russel D. McLean)”
Hi Russel! Your book sounds like an interesting one. I haven’t read the first one yet, but I’ll go poke around on Amazon. It’s amazing what they keep stashed in their vast virtual warehouses.
Thanks for sharing your process with us! Oh, and good job on catching Chuck in that crate. I bet that’s a story in itself.
*pokes bits of doughnut through air holes*
Yay for sequels! I always believed the second book is the better than the first (not that the first isn’t as good).
Thanks for the insight!
Hi Angela – – hope you get a kick out of them. I might let Chuck out come the morning. But with those extra donut crumbs he could survive an extra couple weeks I reckon.
Hi Amber – Different is precisely the aim of a sequel. But I love both books equally. Its been fun to kick around at Chuck’s place while he’s… um… indisposed…
See, I read that as sequel tits. Which is actually pretty typical of me. Can’t wait to get my hands on a copy.
Oh, and keep Wendig locked up a few days. See if he comes out gibbering and covered in strange runes he’s painted on himself with his own blood and feces.
I got money riding on it. Thanks.
Trust Blackmoore to bring tits into it….
I should point out that Wendig was gibbering, covered in strange runes painted in his own blood and feces *before* he went in the box…
I’ve heard Wendig keeps “nourishment” hidden in his beard for just such an occasion. A regular Boy Scout, always prepared.
I love what you said about sequels. Wish more people would realize that. I’m currently on a strict book buying budget, one that consists only of zeroes. At least until the tax return shows up. But I read a review of your work that mentioned “mordant Scottish wit” or some such thing. Intriguing. So I’ve put you on my wish list over at Amazon. Er, your books, that is.
Given my extremely dry sense of humour that is often mistaken for something else, perhaps century old paint flakes, I feel compelled to add that mordant wit is one of my most favourite things, ever. The whole Scotsman thing is just an added bonus.
In the event anyone was wondering. 🙂
KD – “mordant wit” is the best kind, I think.
I’m always glad when people pick up on it. And thanks for the addition to the wish list, too. Of the books, and not me. Hope you enjoy these tales of Dundee’s aye mean streets when you get a chance to read ’em.