I’m at the start of book four in the Legends of the Red Sun series, which is the last. Whilst I’ve certainly enjoyed writing these books, I’m understanding just how much writing series throws up challenges.
Personally, I like to start each project with a relatively fresh slate – that’s why I hope both City of Ruin and The Book of Transformation can be read in isolation. I intended to do that for my own sanity – I didn’t want to have each book to rely on others, and it made writing each of them more fun, because I didn’t have to worry too much about making sure all the threads connected right then.
Much of the structure of Book Four is based around a principle of tying up loose ends. Tying up narratives annoys me – I like the creative freedom of not doing that and, also, I don’t believe life really does resolve itself so neatly. So the whole sentiment of finality just… annoys me. The books I love the most tend to tackle life in slices with open ends (Durrell’s The Alexandria Quartet or DeLillo’s Underworld).
But I’m not at the actual end point yet, and I’m wondering how I’ll feel – because this series would have taken up about four or five years of my life by that point.