For the uninitiated, there’s a well-known fantasy series called the Wheel of Time. It’s a fourteen book saga begun by Robert Jordan and ended by Brandon Sanderson on Jordan’s passing. It’s considered a modern classic in fantasy circles. Those same groups will argue up one side and down the other about the overall quality of these books, the content, and all the more nuanced critiques that such a simultaneous beloved/hated series might bring. But there is one thing that even the most ardent fans and the heaviest detractors agree on: the middle books suck. There’s not universal agreement on where “the slog” begins, but everyone knows it’s there. But oh no no no. It’s so worth it for how everything wraps up. You simply have to push through. Read four to six terrible books, read a million-plus pages to get to the good part.
But the funniest thing, is that that Wheel of Time is not the only fantasy book series to have this phenomenon. I’ve heard fans of ACOTAR admit that the series, as a whole, is only so-so, but it’s all worth if for the last book in the series. That you have to get through four books to get there. This happens over and over again with longer fantasy and science fiction series.
Most of the time we acknowledge this unfortunate issue with a bit of a smirk and grin.
“Here’s the recommended reading order, you can skip these.”
“Yeah, it totally falls off after book six, don’t worry about it.”
“The ones written by his son are terrible.”
And this is a sort of acceptable risk for longer series or mass collections of books in a single universe. We accept, as a function of the genres we love, that we might have to suffer a little bit through books of a lesser quality. We accept “middle book syndrome” with the comfort of predictability that the third book will be worth the temporary slump.
But where’s the line? The occasional misstep or experiment seems reasonable. A slight pause in the story to extrapolate and expand to make that ending worth it. Surely we have the intellectual capacity for that when the narrative we’re left with is worth it. But let’s consider, again, Wheel of Time. In a fourteen book series, up to half, in some opinions, are books “you just have to get through.” To enjoy this series, we are being asked, as readers, to read one “bad” book for every “good” one in some instances. Why put up with that? During its initial release, was there no editor to take Jordan by the shoulders and go “dude…wrap it up.” Why was he extended the benefit of the doubt over and over again that it would be worth it? Something even he, personally, wasn’t actually able to deliver on? At what point do we get to level heavy critique on Jordan for not planning his books out better? For not being the kind of writer that could consistently deliver on what would become his most well-know contribution to fantasy literary canon?
What would it take for a community of readers to say “maybe this is just a bad book series?” A bad series with a few good books at the start, but a bad series nonetheless.
And the answer to this, ultimately, is there isn’t such a threshold. It takes years of critique and pattern recognition, sometimes even the end of series, for a reading community to eventually come together and admit, “yeah, some of these books are actually terrible” or to revise the reading order to create a better experience for new readers. We find ourselves stuck in a sunk cost fallacy tinged with optimism. Oh…book four wasn’t very good…but surely book five will be better. And with years between releases, there’s time to forget. Time for the ghost of the previous bad experience to fade into nothing. Then suddenly the entire series is completion, and the thrill of the ending washes away those previous bad feelings, replaces them with that hit of serotonin.
So what should be done to solve this problem? Is it really a problem, in the end, if no one cares? If we don’t feel literature as a whole is being negatively affected by this phenomenon? Personally, I just don’t read series where I have to read four books of bullshit to get to the end. I’ll drop series quickly if they start to bore me. I’ll often stick to standalones or trilogies at most so I’m not sucked into the suffering of a series with bald spots. I don’t have the time. And I think that might be becoming more popular compared to the fantasy books of the 80s and 90s that I grew up with. I see newer fantasy readers actively seeking out more standalones and duologies. I see more of them on the shelves than I feel like I used to. But as long as people are still willing to put up with three books they don’t like for three they do, the death of the series is far from imminent.
But what would that look like? What is the final threshold where readers are no longer willing to tolerate large swathes of mediocrity in series they otherwise enjoy? At what point does the reading community look back on these older series with these problems and stop pushing them to the top of the recommendation list. When do we admit that maybe this is one those congenital issues with this style of fantasy, and we don’t have to keep protecting it from critique?
Pixels and Pins Studio 