Crime Writer Margot Kinberg

Part of the appeal of a series (as opposed to a standalone novel) is that characters grow and change as the series goes on. Of course, in a well-written standalone, characters are often changed by what happens in the story, but it can be a little harder to really see growth. In series, though, characters do grow, and that can add a lot to the stories.

For instance, in Jane Casey’s The Burning, we meet Detective Constable (DC) Maeve Kerrigan, who works with the Met. As the series begins, she’s eager to make her mark and wants to do a good job. But she’s somewhat impulsive, and she faces a major hurdle: the sexism that’s deeply embedded in the police culture. That sexism is embodied in her direct superior, Josh Derwent, and the two clash quite a lot over that. It takes time, and it’s difficult, but as the series goes on, Josh reluctantly begins to see Maeve as a competent person. He’s not there yet, as the saying goes, but he nudges the needle. For her part, Maeve still sometimes acts without thinking, but she’s learning to be more reflective. This series is a reminder that character growth can take time.

Tony Hillerman’s Joe Leaphorn makes his debut in The Blessing Way. He’s a police lieutenant in the Navajo Tribal (now Nation) Police. In the first novels in which he appears, Leaphorn is very much a man of action. While he’s not overly impulsive, he also doesn’t spend a lot of time behind a desk. As the series goes on, Leaphorn matures (and, let’s be honest, ages). He’s a little more thoughtful and reflective. He also learns mentoring skills that he later uses when he begins to work with Hillerman’s other main protagonist, Sergeant Jim Chee. Leaphorn is also changed after the death of his beloved wife, Emma. It’s interesting to see how time and experience shape his character.

Caroline Graham wrote a seven-novel series featuring Detective Chief Inspector (DCI) Tom Barnaby. As you’ll know, it’s been adapted into a long-running series, Midsomer Murders. The book series begins with The Killings at Badgers Drift, where, along with Barnaby, we also meet his second-in-command, Sergeant Gavin Troy. As the series begins, Troy is portrayed as eager and intelligent, but sometimes impetuous, and likely to rush to judgement based on his own biases. He’s even boorish at times, and he has to be reined in. In the course of the series, he learns to be less harsh in his beliefs, and he gets a bit better at letting facts – not his biases – dictate what he thinks of cases and the people involved in them. He never becomes a truly warm, compassionate person, but he does learn to be more measured.

Louise Penny’s Three Pines series takes place in a small Québec town. Chief Inspector Armand Gamache first comes into contact with the people of Three Pines in Still Life, in which he investigates the murder of one of its residents. As the series goes on, we see how the various characters grow and change, and that adds leaven to the stories. For instance, when we first meet Clara Morrow, she is an aspiring artist, overshadowed by the success of her husband Peter. She doesn’t have much confidence in her work, although she loves creating. As the series goes on, and as certain events happen (no spoilers!), she finds her artistic voice. When that happens, she starts to get recognition for her work, and we see how her art matures as she does.

Anthony Bidulka’s Merry Bell trilogy begins with Livingsky, in which budding PI Merry Bell returns to her hometown of Livingsky, Saskatchewan after a time in Vancouver. It’s not a joyful homecoming, though. She left Vancouver after the murder of her mentor, and that death has cast a shadow over her. What’s more, Mary Bell is dealing with her gender transition. She starts out with no connections and no client list but is determined to make it as a PI. As the trilogy goes on, she starts to feel more confident, both as a woman and as a PI. She builds new relationships and faces up to her past. At the end, she’s a stronger person who’s developed solid PI skills.

Growing and (hopefully) maturing is part of the human experience. So it makes perfect sense that it would also be part of a character’s development, especially in a series. It’s not just that character growth reflects reality, either. There’s also the fact that when characters learn, grow, and mature, this adds depth to a series. It’s also an opportunity for the author to place the character in different situations. Character growth can be incremental or it can take great leaps. Either way, if it’s done well, and not contrived, growth and maturing over time can add to a series. Which character’s growth have you enjoyed?

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from John Lennon’s (Just Like) Starting Over.