A Series of Plans and Detours
Planning a series is an involved process with much turmoil and dedication at the forefront of an author’s mind.
There are arcs that need to be placed throughout the entire narrative, as well as an overarching superstructure to the stories.
A pantser might have some trouble navigating the stormy seas of organization, but I don’t denigrate the method whatsoever. I’m a mixture of plotter and pantser, a gardening architect who wears multiple hats.
There is a sense of relief in the art creation process when you know what’s going to happen in book fifteen years ahead of time.
But not knowing where the adventure is taking you is also a fun process.
I deviate from my outlined plot in large stretches of the stories I pen, but I don’t think they’re any worse for it. Sometimes those little surprises which pop up along the way lead to trails far more integral to the story than the logical side of creation.
My approach to writing novels is much like how a movie is made, or even the medium of gaming.
Everything is meticulously planned out, even the thoughts of side characters who don’t show up for over three pages. Do I know about Stanzielle’s blood type? Well, yes, in a sense. Blood type isn’t a thing on Orchestrylus. It’s a frequency resonating with the song of the spheres, detectable in the adamythus body as the bloodstream flows. So, it’s more of a blood frequency than a type.
Jazzy’s hobbies are not the focal point of the story, but why shouldn’t the author know what activities characters do to relax?
Motivation, goals, and future achievements, along with growth, are there in the back of my mind.
I’m thinking about the story often throughout the day, whether I’m working or during my downtime. An author always has their characters living in their head, and we’re eager to get these stories out there because the characters want us to tell the world about the world they inhabit.
The main character, Stanzielle, is on my mind often. Her goals are what will drive the narrative forward, not the story happening to her.
But so is the instrument shopkeeper who sells pianos for a lower number of tunes. This man might be in the story for a few sentences, or maybe a paragraph.
But that’s the depth I feel needs to be dived into, to best explore the world as if it exists on its own somewhere out there in the multiverse of imagination. You’ll tell the characters, “You mean the world to me even if you’re so far away.”
I suppose they aren’t necessarily that far away, considering they’re living in my mind, but I hope you get the point. Treat that world as if it’s alive and the world will feel alive, for multiple books.
Speaking of faraway things, I also know how I want to end this series, which a gardener writer might not have in mind.
And you know what?
That’s perfectly fine!
We aren’t tied to a specific method. That journey might lead you to an ending I wouldn’t have planned in a thousand years.
But I’ve learned throughout the writing process that both methods lead to beautiful results. Combining the two, sticking to one, doesn’t matter.
What matters is letting the characters tell the story, then relaying their story to the rest of the world.
The imagination you have is the key to a series—wrapping up arcs, humbling the characters if they’re too Mary Sue adjacent, and the most important aspect of the entire process, which is telling a good story.
If you’re thinking about the next seven books, and what to place in them, that’s amazing!
If you haven’t got a clue about the next sentence, that’s also grand.
The incredible thing about the storytelling craft is we get to do things our way.
I hope these small musings about writing a series helped even a little.
It can be challenging, but the world needs more stories.
Writing a long series might seem monochrome in premise—sticking with the same characters for many books—but the execution and methods will bring out the color in the story for years to come, whether you planned it, or winged it into existence like you planned it all along.
