I Stand Alone

The Golden City of Series vs. the Standalone Ghetto

I’m fond of repeating how I’m in the 1% of avid readers in that, among many other odd tendencies, I love short stories and frequently buy both collections and anthologies. Well, I get even weirder in that I prefer standalone novels. Yes, series are beloved by most normal readers, but I’m far from normal, especially when it comes to my crime fiction preferences.

Crime fiction comes in two major forms: standalone novels and series books. Duh. Both have their strengths, and both appeal to different kinds of readers. But in recent years, the publishing world has heavily favored series fiction for economic reasons, and it’s often at the expense of the standalone, which in many ways offers more creative freedom and narrative impact.

Standalone crime novels offer a unique kind of storytelling power. The first and most obvious benefit is the sense that anything can happen. Take any of Jim Thompson’s brutal standalone endings as proof. In a series, readers know the main character is essentially safe. After all, they must return in the next installment. But in a standalone, no such guarantees exist. The protagonist could be arrested, ruined, betrayed, or even killed. That tension fuels a more gripping, unpredictable reading experience. There’s real danger, not just plot-shaped peril with a built-in safety net. The standalone is Joe Blow in the biggest, most dangerous mess of his life whereas the series is Batman once again locking up the Joker.

Another strength of standalones is that each book is a fresh start. New characters, new settings, new conflicts. That freshness keeps things exciting for the reader and, just as importantly, for the writer. Readers get to experience different corners of the crime world. Rural noir, urban procedurals, amateur sleuths, professional killers… all without having to rely on a single recurring cast. There’s no baggage, no continuity, and no requirement to remember events from five books ago.

Standalones also give authors freedom to experiment. Without the burden of continuity, they can shift tone, try a new structure, or change narrative voices. A writer known for gritty realism might try something more stylized. Another might write a lean thriller after years of brooding mysteries. The standalone is where writers stretch, risk, and occasionally produce their best work.

That said, there’s a reason why series dominate the marketplace. They’re simply more marketable. Publishers love series because they can build a loyal readership over time. The cost of acquiring a new customer is high, but keeping one who wants to follow a favorite character is much easier. Every new entry in a series boosts sales of the older books and increases the author’s brand visibility.

Readers also love the comfort of familiar protagonists. They return to series for the same reason people rewatch favorite shows: they enjoy spending time with a beloved character in a familiar world. The ongoing development of a lead character over multiple books can be deeply rewarding and emotionally resonant.

In short, series fiction is a safer financial bet, while standalones tend to offer more artistic range and suspense. The best crime writers often dabble in both, knowing that each format has its own rewards. For readers looking to be surprised, shocked, or taken somewhere entirely new, the standalone remains an essential part of the genre’s DNA.