It’s all about series these days. Out with the standalone books and in with the epic, seven book sagas. And you know what? I think this is fantastic! One book doesn’t grant me the time needed to get to know a character on a I-probably-know-you-better-than-I-know-my-family level.

Anyhow, I digress. All I wanted to highlight in this post is the rookie mistake of not beginning with the first book in a series. I did this many aeons ago (OK, I did it for the first time two weeks ago) and instantly regretted it.

I was sniffing around one of the three bookstores in town, eagerly seeking a new series to sink my teeth into…and bam. There it was. I was instantly reeled in by the cover model’s smoldering stare and kissable lips. I yanked it from the shelf but the smile soon faded from my face.

It wasn’t book one. Man, it wasn’t even book two.

It was book three. 

I searched the scores of books lining the shelves. I searched the scores of books lining the shelves in the other two stores too, but all to no avail. I knew I had to make a decision.

That evening found me curled up on the sofa, sipping at a hot chocolate as I poured over the pages of my new book. Don’t get me wrong, it was a good book, but I couldn’t fully enjoy it. There were references to the events of books one and two. There were terms being thrown around in a nonchalant manner, terms that had obviously been introduced in previous books. I felt so lost.

Consequently, I came away feeling dissatisfied and it was entirely down to myself and my own poor decision making. So from one reader to another, I strongly recommend starting with book one!