On Writing: How Much Info-Dumping Is Too Much Info-Dumping (In a Series)?

I have written a novel, Arrested Souls: Book One of the Ecto-Files, had it workshopped twice and beta read, and am now trying to market it. Being part of not just one, but two writing groups is essential to my creative process. The critiques and feedback members of both groups provide make me a better writer. I have grown and developed considerably because of this practice.

Recently, I submitted a chapter from the second book I am writing, Soul Eaters: Book Two of the Ecto-Files, to one of my writers' groups. The group's moderator, the great Phil de Parto, noted that the chapter submitted lacked a lot of the enchantment and worldbuilding that were so evident in the first novel. The series—or perhaps I should call it the universe I crafted—features tales set in a realm where humanity faces the daily challenge of ghostly possession, and there are simply too many ghosts to start with.

Phil’s comment, as well as others from the group, not only gave me the tools and ideas to effectively revise the chapter but also got me thinking:

How Much Info-Dumping Is Too Much Info-Dumping (In a Series)?

I refer to Jim Butcher’s The Dresden Files as a model and a benchmark, truly appreciating his combination of hard-boiled detective narrative with fantasy folklore from more than one culture. I might go further to say that Butcher’s series was—and remains—the standard for many urban fantasies written thereafter. TDF is eighteen books deep (and growing), which means that, with every episode, there are moments when Harry, the first-person narrator, must remind readers of what happened before, especially if it ties into the events of the current book.

I can see how involved this concept would be with each book written, how incrementally sophisticated it becomes. The trick, I believe, lies in whether said “Info-dump” (a negative-sounding concept if ever there was one) flows naturally and adds, not detracts, from the overall narrative. In writing, my guess was always that things got easier the more you developed, but, alas, perhaps not so much with something like this.

Which leads me to this particular wisdom nugget, as trite as it may sound: each book an author writes comes with new challenges.

Butcher makes it look easy. I can only hope to aspire to be half as good as him. I will trust my process, though, with the attendant aspirations and hopes that I weave good tales and make them accessible, enjoyable, and anticipatory (so that readers keep coming back to books in the series).