Writing series is great. You build up a regular readership, each new book gives an impetus to the whole run of stories, and you can do some neat promo things like writing "missing scenes" or little freebies which reward stalwart fans and provide a way to draw in new readers.
But...
You run some risks with a long sequence of books. Will people, even the most ardent fans, lose interest, or feel that the series has "jumped the shark"? How can you maintain interest with a constant(ish) cast of characters? In the case of romantic mysteries, how many tropes can you work through and still make the story a fresh and interesting category romance? At least the mystery element is easier to contend with. There's always a new murder to solve and a novel twist to be brought out, so detective series have traditionally had good staying power.
One of the things I've done with the Cambridge Fellows series is to take some major risks. In book eight I had three (count 'em!) popular secondary characters die, so in book 9 some of the other minor players have grown into the old ones' roles. This gives a new slant to the "helpers of the heroes" bit and makes this book different to all the preceding ones (which is what you want of any book in a sequence). The death of favourite characters also adds a new dimension to the emotional aspects of the books. (I've still not got over the death of Barrett Bonden in the Aubrey/Maturin series.)
I've also tried to use the series to discover what goes on after the “Happy Ever After” moment. Boy meets boy, boy loses boy, boy gets boy back...and then what? There's still plenty to explore, even in a relationship that goes on for years. The arrival of an old flame (or a wannabe flame), forced separation, illness, stress, past events coming back to haunt us - these, and others, are things which even the most enduring relationship may have to face. I've included at least one of these hiccups in each of the Cambridge books, giving the lads an emotional problem to solve alongside the mystery - an emotional problem which often mirrors in some way the murder or puzzle they're attempting to solve. (And it's been a lesson to me to discover that the brilliant, original plot twists I've come up with in terms of the romance are in fact long standing tropes which have already been used since time immemorial. It was ever thus...)
There is one definite advantage, however, of writing gay romance in an Edwardian or just post WWI setting; you don't have to go far to find tension and new threats. Homosexuality was illegal and what we'd call homophobic feeling had been stirred up by the Oscar Wilde trial at the end of the nineteenth century and the terrible Pemberton-Billing case during the war. (Gay and lesbian traitors purportedly around every corner.) My two lovers/detectives, Orlando and Jonty can fairly easily hide their relationship in plain sight, within the confines of a Cambridge college, so long as they're discrete. But outside those walls they have to keep their true nature hidden and are always going to be potential victims of blackmail.
Talking of which, I've found that having a Moriarty type baddy (Owens, from a rival college) has also been a good way of keeping up originality. There's always some new dastardliness for him to get up to!
Lessons for Survivors
Cambridge,
September 1919
Orlando Coppersmith should be happy.
WWI is almost a year in the past, he’s back at St. Bride’s College in
Cambridge, he has his lover and best friend Jonty Stewart back at his side
and—to top it all—he’s about to be made Forsterian Professor of Applied Mathematics.
With his inaugural lecture to give
and a plagiarism case to adjudicate on, Orlando’s hands are full, so can he and
Jonty afford to take on an investigative commission surrounding a suspected
murder? Especially one which must be solved within a month so that a clergyman
can claim what he says is his rightful inheritance?
The answer looks like being a
resounding “no” when the lecture proves almost impossible to write, the
plagiarism case gets turned back on him and Jonty (spiced with a hint of
blackmail), and the case surrounding Peter Biggar’s death proves to have too
many leads and too little evidence.
Orlando begins to
doubt their ability to solve cases any more, and his mood isn’t improved when
there seems to be no way of outsmarting the blackmailer. Will this be the first
failure for Coppersmith and Stewart? And how will they maintain their
reputations—professional, private and as amateur detectives?
Enjoy an excerpt from Lessons for Survivors:
“Stand still.”
“I am standing still.”
“You aren’t. You’re jiggling about
like a cat after a pigeon.” Jonty Stewart made a final adjustment to Orlando
Coppersmith’s tie, then stood back to admire his efforts. “I think that’s
passable.”
“You should wear your glasses; then
you wouldn’t have to go back so far. You can’t use that old excuse about your
arms getting shorter so you have to hold the paper further away.” Orlando
turned to the mirror, the better to appreciate the perfectly tied knot.
“Faultless. Thank you.”
The hallway of Forsythia Cottage
benefited from the full glare of the morning sun through the windows and
fanlight, enough for even the vainest of creatures to check every inch of their
appearance in the mirror before they sauntered out onto the Madingley Road.
Still, what would the inhabitants of Cambridge say to see either Jonty or
Orlando less than immaculate, especially on a day such as this?
“It’s as well you had me here to
help, or else you’d have disgraced yourself and St. Bride’s with it.” Jonty
smiled, picking at his friend’s jacket. If there were any specks on it, Orlando
knew that they were far too small for Jonty to see without his glasses. “I’m so
proud of you. Professor Coppersmith. It will have a lovely ring to it.”
Orlando nodded enthusiastically,
sending a dark curl springing rebelliously up, a curl that needed to be
immediately flattened, although even the Brilliantine employed recognised it
was fighting a losing battle. His hair might be distinctly salt and pepper, but
he was still handsome, lean but not angular, nor running to fat like some of
his contemporaries. He’d turned forty when the Great War still had a year to
run so there was a while yet before he hit the half century. Jonty was a year
closer to that milestone and was never allowed to forget it. “I won’t believe
it until I see the first letter addressed to me by that title.”
“Conceit, thy name is Coppersmith.”
Jonty nudged his friend aside and attended to his own tie. Silver threads lay
among his own ruddy gold hair, now, and the blue eyes were framed with fine
lines. He knew he could still turn a few heads and young women told him he was
handsome. If the young women concerned were his nieces…well, that didn’t
invalidate their opinions.
Orlando snorted. “Conceit? That’s a
case of the pot calling the kettle black.” He slicked back his hair again,
frowning.
“You seem unusually pensive, even
for the new Forsterian Professor of Mathematics.” Jonty stopped his grooming,
turned and drew his hand down Orlando’s face, remapping familiar territory.
Coppersmith and Stewart. Stewart and Coppersmith. They went together like
Holmes and Watson, Hero and Leander, or strawberries and cream. Colleagues,
friends, lovers and amateur detectives, they were partners in every aspect of
their lives, and neither of them entirely sure whether the detection or the
intimacy was the most dangerous part.
“I was just thinking how sad it is
that neither your parents nor my grandmother are here today.” Orlando fiddled
with his tie pin, only to have his hand slapped away and the offending object
straightened once more.
“Leave that alone. I’d only just got
it right.” Jonty put a hat into Orlando’s hands—not the one he was going to
wear today, but one he could twist nervously to his heart’s content, with no
damage done. “Perhaps it’s as well they’re not here for your inaugural lecture.
They might have had to put on a magnificent act to cover their boredom.
Computable numbers? Hardly the stuff of gripping entertainment.” Jonty smiled,
trying to keep his lover’s spirits up. He knew how deeply Orlando still felt
the horrible series of losses he’d suffered during the years of the Great War.
So many people he’d been close to,
now gone; it had left a gap in his life that Jonty knew even he couldn’t
entirely fill. Not that, Orlando swore, he loved Jonty any the less, nor, as
Orlando frequently said, was there any less of him to love. The reports of the
college veterans’ rugby matches still referred to him as a little ball of
muscle and Orlando said he was beautiful beyond the power of words or
numbers—even imaginary ones—to describe. Both of which were nice, if perhaps
unbiased, compliments. “Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Orlando ruffled
his lover’s hair, grinning smugly as Jonty scurried back to the mirror to begin
priddying again.
“My pleasure. I’m looking forward to
the lecture, of course. I’ve a list of keywords which I’ll tick off as they
come. If I get them all, I’ll win five quid off Dr. Panesar.”
“Does he have a list as well? Does
everyone?” When they’d first met, Orlando would have been thrown into a panic
at such a statement. Now he was older, wiser and alive to Jonty’s attempts to
make game of him. “And do I get a cut of the proceeds? I’d write my lecture
specifically to help out the highest bidder.”
“That’s the
spirit. I’ll start the bidding.” Jonty leaned forward and kissed Orlando, as tenderly
as when they’d first been courting. “That’s the deposit. You can guess what
constitutes the rest of the payment.” He was pleased when Orlando, visibly
happier, returned the kiss; he couldn’t let Orlando succumb to melancholy now.
The man might start blubbing through his inauguration.
As
Charlie Cochrane couldn't be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice—like managing a rugby team—she writes. Her favourite genre is gay fiction, predominantly historical romances/mysteries. She lives near Romsey but has yet to use that as a setting for her stories, choosing to write about Cambridge, Bath, London and the Channel Islands, all of which are places she knows and loves well. Her ideal day would be a morning walking along a beach, an afternoon spent watching rugby, and a church service in the evening, with her husband and daughters tagging along, naturally.
Charlie's Cambridge Fellows Series, set in Edwardian England, was instrumental in her being named Author of the Year 2009 by the review site Speak Its Name.
She’s a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, Mystery People and International Thriller Writers Inc, with titles published by Carina, Samhain, MLR, Noble Romance and Cheyenne.
Website
www.charliecochrane.co.uk
E-mail Cochrane.charlie2@googlemail.com
Twitter https://twitter.com/charliecochrane
Charlie has offered a great giveaway for you! Winner's choice of either a print copy of one of her books or a "seductive Dr Coppersmith" t-shirt! Comment to enter. Through Thursday.