MaddAddam: The third book in the MaddAddam trilogy, jerk.
A few months ago, I noticed that Audible doesn’t always include a book’s position in a series.
How did I notice?
Good question.
I’d heard wonderful things about Margaret Atwood’s recent trilogy, so I downloaded MaddAddam to check it out for myself. I was absolutely spellbound, not just because of the story, but because of how richly woven her backstory was. And every time I found myself wanting her to elaborate on something, she did.
Turns out MaddAddam is the third book of the series.
😀
Ordinarily, this rookie mistake would have infuriated me. (It infuriated my husband, who’d given up on the book after the first five or six chapters, when I told him.) But as I listened, I found myself so captivated by what I wasn’t told, what was only hinted at, that by the time I finished the book, the events in the first book—the origins of the story—had become almost mythological to me.
Then, of course, I listened to the first book, Oryx and Crake (in about three days, but who’s counting). Sometimes I was almost heartbroken, since I knew the eventual end of all of it, and other times I found myself clutching my hands together under my chin in dread or standing in the middle of my kitchen with my mouth open after recognizing the beginning of something major.
I’m honestly not sure how everything hits when you read the books in order, though I’ll get a little bit closer to understanding it once I’ve listened to the second book, The Year of the Flood. And then, of course, MaddAddam again.
What does my bonkers journey through the MaddAddam trilogy have to teach indie authors?
1. If you’re writing a series, maybe put the number of your book in its actual subtitle.
You may not always be in control of book descriptions, so anything you specify there in one place might be lopped off if someone somewhere has to shorten it.
(And there are people like me out there, who get so excited to start reading they can’t be bothered doing a simple Google search.)
2. If you want to know how to write a sequel that can act as a standalone, skip the first two books and see how MaddAddam strikes you.
(That is, if you can handle having the true chronological experience lost to you forever. It’s a bit like watching Battlestar Galactica: You can never quite relive that first watch, before you knew who all the cylons were. Attempt this at your own peril.)
3. You don’t have to explain the entire backstory. That’s why it’s backstory (not the story).
Whether you’re writing the third book in a series or a standalone, you’ve got enough of a story to tell with the book you’re writing; for the most part, keep the past the past.
That’s not to say you shouldn’t have a detailed understanding of what circumstances and events have led your characters to where they are when your story starts. But you don’t have to burden your readers with it by info-dumping. Being allowed to uncover layers bit by bit through context is a rare pleasure, and one you shouldn’t deprive your readers.
Now that I think about it, I may make a habit of starting on book three more often. It’s kind of a fun experiment.
