It’s probably a good sign when you start out with the audiobook version and get so impatient that you switch to the written word. It’s a rare occurrence for me, because I usually listen to nonfiction that can function as extended podcast. Or, if I’m listening to fiction, it’s of the cozy variety that does well over long, slow listening sessions. But recently, I decided to try out the Marion Lane series and found myself wishing I could just read at my usual, fast pace.

And so I caved, acquiring written copies and rushing through them at the speed of sight. As I continued reading, I found myself turning page after page, hoping for a satisfying conclusion to the many challenges Marion faced. And it was there – sometimes. I found the first book’s conclusion more satisfying than the other two, and it got me thinking – what makes that happen? (And, how can I write this entire article without significant spoilers?)

What makes an ending tick?

The most obvious difference between the conclusions, and a good place to start, is the timing of the conclusions. Midnight Murder concludes almost immediately after the action. Deadly Rose and Raven’s Revenge in contrast, have epilogues that extend months after the action. One can understand why an epilogue is tempting – isn’t it another way to give more closure? But as we learned with the end to the cinematic Lord of the Rings, sometimes you just need a story to end.

More precisely, the epilogues of Deadly Rose and Raven’s Revenge don’t add much new information to the characters and their journeys. Instead, they tend to reiterate a sense of unease from the ending, and wrap up the few loose threads that didn’t fit in the final chapter. This tends to rob both final chapter and epilogue of their weight. In my experience, the best epilogues serve as processing time – a way for characters to internalize all that has happened and then demonstrate how much the status quo has changed since the introduction of the novel. And while these epilogues do enable that contrast, they don’t enable it more than their respective final chapters.

A great last chapter…

So then – let’s take a look at those final chapters. Midnight Murder is reasonably satisfying, while still leaving the door open to future adventures. While the final chapter solves some of the problems that Marion faced early in the book, she’s changed enough that those solutions don’t feel as satisfying as they may have earlier. It’s the balance of tying up the loose threads while demonstrating character growth that makes this ending work.

Deadly Rose and Raven’s Revenge, in contrast, simply feel unsettling. In these novels many of Marion’s attitudinal changes stem from new knowledge, not new experiences. Over the course of her adventures, she’s learned things about Miss Brickett’s that make her question her faith in the institution. And it’s reasonable for those changes to take some time to “settle in” – time where she can ponder and change her behavior in response.

But – that assumes Marion will, in fact, change her behavior in response to the new information. At some point, as readers, we want to see our protagonist grow and develop in response to the plot. This might be the perfect use of an epilogue, to show Marion updating her behavior and giving her a sense of momentum. And yet, the epilogues show Marion in what feels like personality stasis. It’s not that her circumstances haven’t changed – but her inner landscape doesn’t seem to have meaningfully changed with them.

Reader investment – and reinvestment – and reinvestment

This starts to speak to a broader challenge that books in series face – maintaining reader investment in characters. Specifically, hoping that readers will stay invested in characters simply because of their prior appearances in the series. For Marion Lane, this is particularly pronounced with the supporting cast – Bill, Kenny, Jessica, and others. And it’s important because, if the writing strategy is simply to put characters through a harrowing experience without meaningfully changing their attitudes, we better really care about the characters.

Both Deadly Rose and Raven’s Revenge prominently feature supporting character challenges. In Deadly Rose, Marion has to spend extended periods not only apart from her friends, but actively annoying them. But we don’t spend enough time with the supporting cast to understand the pain of Marion’s estrangement. Because Marion’s relatively isolated throughout most of Midnight Murder, this is a critical omission. It’s hard to feel invested in Marion’s isolation when there’s been little sense of the warmth she now feels in her friendships. Not only that – the plot is moving so quickly that it’s easy to get lost in the other details, without absorbing the character impacts. And so instead of believing in Marion’s emotional journey, the reader must be told what it is.

In Raven’s Revenge, similarly, Marion’s entire motivation is supporting Bill. But because Marion has now spent the entire prior book isolated from Bill, our warmth towards this character has faded, with similar results. Again, the emotional depth challenge can get a little disguised by the extreme events in the plot. After all, explosions certainly feel like plot progress. But unfortunately, this results in a plot without a true conclusion, one that wants to feature character evolution but spends all its time on action.

An ending vs. a conclusion

To be clear, I enjoyed reading this series! In fact, I enjoyed it so much that, once I’d switched from audiobook, I finished the whole thing in a single night. But it was merely good where it could have been great, and a lot of that comes down to the ending. Structurally, the last two books are heavily plot-driven, without as much character work – but the epilogues wants to conclude on a character note. This mismatch in goals, in setup and payoff, leaves the reader wanting just a bit more.

TL;DR – it’s hard to write an espionage adventure that includes great character evolution.

Still, I would absolutely recommend this to anyone looking for a ‘50s spy story with a bit of surprise and a female protagonist. (Seems like the ‘50s are back as a setting – or am I just reading too much into Murder Your Employer earlier this year?)

Until next time – stay cozy, and stay curious!