Sequels: What Can You Do With Them?
You know, I think screenwriter David Koepp put it best. He realized that the level of expectation for The Lost World had to be decidedly higher than the first Jurassic Park. “Audiences are quick to get jaded…sure you can do dinosaurs, but what can you do with them?”
The greatest difficulty when writing a sequel to an established piece of fiction is matching audience expectations. The groundwork has already been laid and the characters are formed. In addition, any leeway you get in world-building is decidedly revoked in a sequel. Everything you write comes under the lens of scrutiny—in a sequel, the added pressure of living up to a standard doubles the potential criticism.
After I finished The Shadow Over Lone Oak I knew it couldn’t only be one story. That’s not to say it doesn’t work as an isolated tale—it does—but that I had already immersed myself in this universe and I wanted to see the fallout. Where does Llewyn Finch go from here? How does he feel about the events of the first novel? Are there any repercussions?
Naturally, answering these questions became a priority when drafting the plot. The quirky federal agent needed to take on a few new dimensions for the sequel. Enter Kasey Alexander, his former partner and lover. Who is she? What was their relationship like? These questions continued to drive the narrative in a specific direction.
Unlike the first novel, I didn’t want The Smiling Man Conspiracy to be told almost entirely from Llewyn Finch’s point of view. He wouldn’t be able to carry the narrative on his own. There were too many places for him to be and not enough time to get him there.
Thus the novel is told from eight POVs. Some characters have bit parts contained to a single chapter. Others span multiple sections. Whatever the case, I’ve crafted each of them to fulfill a specific role. Some are victims. Some are heroes. Some are both. In each and every one, I isolated at least one particular quality that would define their “moment” in the story.
This task was difficult. It may not even pay off. Not owning a crystal ball does tend to blind me to the future. But David Koepp’s lesson holds true. I can create a character (Llewyn) but what can I do with him? The answer is inside the pages of The Smiling Man Conspiracy.
Yes, I’m being rather non-specific. Aggravating, isn’t it? You’ll live. At least, I hope you will. I don’t what it’s like to die from anticipation of spoilers. Sounds like something a person ought to see a doctor about.
What do I hope readers take away from the second book? That it’s not necessarily grander or better than the first, but that it is sufficiently different and equally engrossing. That’s all I can ask as I move forward into the editing process and eventually publishing. I’m not aiming to top the first book in any specific way. Just because one has dinosaurs (metaphorically) doesn’t mean one has to use them in an expected, over-the-top way.
As always, I hope you’ve enjoyed my post. Today’s wasn’t particularly deep or meaningful, but I thought it prudent to share my thoughts on what it’s like to write a sequel after-the-fact. See you guys later. God bless.
