When I was a kid, Quantum Leap was appointment television. I would get comfortable in my chair, set up the VCR, and I would record every single episode. I even cut out the commercials and, in a sign of just how obsessed I was, I would edit the tape so that the leaps came together flawlessly. I would pause on the leap out, and then I would start recording in the middle of the leap in on the next episode. It wasn't always perfect, but the few times it was, I was very proud.

So naturally, my love couldn't be contained by just watching the show. This was before I started writing, but fortunately the producers of the show had okayed a publishing company to put out tie-in novels. I had already read a few Star Trek tie-ins (my other big sci-fi love in my formative years... TNG, not Original Series, please), so I jumped at the chance to read Sam Beckett's further adventures in paperback form.

To this day, the Quantum Leap novels are still a perfect example of tie-ins done right. There's very little continuity to worry about and any issues can be explained by Sam's Swiss-Cheese memory. The very basis of the show sets itself up for original novels very well: every new life Sam leaps into is basically an original story idea. You just have to add in the leaping facet and everything else will fall into place.

But the novels did more than that. They did what the show couldn't by taking us into the future (1999... cough) with Al Calavicci, Verbeena Beeks, the sentient computer Ziggy, and all the other characters who were mentioned but all-too rarely seen. The novels gave us a peek at a broader world by showing us the people Sam had left behind. His friends, his wife, his coworkers who were desperately trying to get him back while helping him with his unofficial mission through time. The books were extremely well done, and even gave us a satisfactory ending to the series with the final book Mirror's Edge.

Quantum Leap was a great series, and the books carried on that tradition by adding to it with a broader vision of what was really happening with the characters. It didn't ignore Sam's leaps; some of the novels could easily have been turned into episodes. But it was that added insight to what happened after Al stepped through the glowing door that really made them special.

These days, it's not rare to find books for a wide range of series on the shelves at your local bookstore. USA is a very prolific producer of novels based on their shows -- Psych, Monk, Burn Notice -- as is Syfy: there are even Eureka books!. Of course, the former WB was an industry leader with their books based on Buffy, Angel, Charmed, Roswell and the like -- a tradition the CW has continued with Smallville, Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries. And Doctor Who novels? There are hundreds of those things. Star Trek? Thousands.

But the Stargate universe joined the mix not once, not twice, but three times.

The first tie-in novels for Stargate were a continuation of the movie. Their worthiness is dependent on whether or not you prefer the movie to the TV show. The books have their problems (language being a big part of it, given what the humans call the feline-type aliens they encounter), but it's drastically different from what Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner created on Showtime.

The second attempt was a categorical disaster. An author who shall not be named (Smashley McConnellsky -- also responsible for five of the lesser Quantum Leap outings) was hired by a company to produce the novels without ever having seen a single episode. Rather than rectify this by actually watching the series, she ventured sally forth into the mix and produced four laughably godawful parody novels that include the same characters as the show. I call it a parody because that's the only way I can justify their existence. One novel refers to Amanda Carter, while another mentions Daniel's blond hair. Yeah. Those didn't last very long, and now they are treasured if just for the humor aspect of it all.

Fortunately, a company called Fandemonium figured out the correct formula: hire fans, and then edit your freaking books. That would have solved a lot of the first company's problems. The readers might not always be happy, but at least -- for the most part -- the books get the important things right. But when they don't, oh... oh, we will not let it go because they should know better this time.

That's the fine line that tie-in novels have to walk. With shows becoming increasingly serial in nature, with ongoing plots and story arcs, these novels have to slip in undetected. They have to include a book-length story with at least a drop of character growth, and then they have to leave everything the way they found it when they're done. That's a lot to keep balanced. Adrian Monk can't discover a vital clue to his wife's murder in a novel, and Michael Westen can't ferret out the name of someone who could explain his burn notice.

The reset button is where a lot of tie-in novels fail. There's no drama or suspense, no real worry that they might not get out of this one because... well, if Carlton Lassiter got shot, that would probably have been shown during an episode of Psych. So the reader goes into the novel knowing that everything will be fine at the end, which might make you wonder why to even bother with the book at all.

The answer is perspective. Like with the Quantum Leap books where we followed Al to the future, the tie-in novels bring new points-of-view to the table. Every Monk book is narrated by his nurse, Natalie. We get to see her as a struggling single mom with a singularly frustrating boss. We have an outsider's perspective of Monk's antics that we don't get from the show. The camera focused on Monk so that even when he was standing alone, we were with him. The books make it easier to take that step back and become a witness to it from the outside.

A tie-in novel also lets you get into your favorite character's head. You can hear their doubts and fears, the things they might not necessarily let show. A look of concern on Amanda Tapping's face as we cut to commercial might turn into a page and a half about why Samantha Carter has doubts about a current mission and why she's willing to go along with it anyway. It tells a story rather than showing it, allowing you to become a bigger part of it than you would have been otherwise.

Tie-in novels aren't always good. Sometimes they're appalling. (I'm looking at you, SG-1's Power Behind the Throne) But when they're good, they can be amazing. The best thing a tie-in novel can offer is a reunion. When a show goes off the air, that's it. The stories are done. But with tie-ins, Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis and Monk live on. The team is still going through the gate, Atlantis has been continued with the amazing Legacy Series that shows us what happened after the series finale, and Monk is still solving crimes and fighting his phobias.

Tie-in novels are usually produced quick and cheap. They'll most likely never win any awards, and there's always just a little bit of a guilty pleasure when you're caught reading one of them. But that's a small price to pay to spend a few hundred pages with some old friends having new and exciting adventures together.

And yes, I still have the complete collection of Quantum Leap books on my shelf.
 

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