Knowing When To Stop

I got into reading Science Fiction one hot summer when I was a kid. My summer job, if you were the kid of a superintendent, you always had a job- washing windows. During a break in work, I discovered an ancient Ace Double Novel ( two brief novels packaged as one) and spent a big hunk of the afternoon in a fictional world of space stations, starships, and strange adventure. By the end of the day, I was enrolled in the Sci-Fi addicts club. And by the end of the summer, I had read through a bunch of series that seemed to roll on forever.

As an eleven and twelve-year-old, Science Fiction offered a sneak peek into a future that seemed to have brighter prospects. Soon, if I was not at home or not at school, I was in the library digging through the small section dedicated to Science Fiction and Fantasy. If there were a series, all the better; I could confidently fit into the character of my alter ego and vicariously enjoy the action. I assume that my experience is close to that of people these days who enjoy graphic novels.

While I grew up, developed other interests, and diversified my reading, I’ve continued to be a fan of Science Fiction. But over the past decade or so, I’ve noticed the development of many, let’s call them, franchises. The sci-fi franchise has over three books, maybe as many as eight or ten. Sometimes multiple authors are involved. Now cutting to the action. I was really grabbed by the first book, mildly involved with the second, and consumed the third, expecting a climax. When the fourth book came out, I called it quits. I’d become bored with the franchise.

I understand that a popular series is a cash cow for the publisher and author. But I’d light a simple little votive candle in the hopes that at some point the plug could be pulled on the “Vanguished Beyond The Void” series, now in its twelfth volume and getting no closer to an end.

I am reminded of the short serials like those produced by Republic Studios that ran between the feature and the newsreel in the theater. Sometimes you went just to see the serial featuring your favorite super hero.

But the serial producers knew when to stop and move on to the next serial. Many authors and publishers don’t. I don’t think that sci-fi is alone in this phenomenon.

It’s like when I was a folksinger playing at coffeehouses. I had a friend who was writing a long epic song. He’d eagerly introduce each new episode to his audience. But after a while, as the song grew as long as ten minutes of sad droning, the owner of the coffeehouse told him not to return. People were bored with the endless story of his lost loves, considered him a loser, and the coffeehouse was losing business. He huffed. Couldn’t they appreciate epic poetry? I think he ended up writing code for the mainframe computers of the seventies.

You need to know when to stop.