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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). After the season wrapped, you scoured online forums with other hardcores to uncover hidden hints illuminating what would happen next.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. Cut to the second episode, a key performer makes a choice that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. By the lackluster conclusion, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Consider Kaos, a clever mythological satire with Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Excellent actors (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. Several prize nominations followed, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to develop the plot thoroughly. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. I felt grateful as a viewer.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

Story decisions have weakened the core. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their coping with awful experiences, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. That included the show’s tiring habit of bringing in and focusing on new characters (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Growing Trend

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Supreme Instance

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, occupying our minds endlessly, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. This beloved 90s drama, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, ran for just one year but was cinematic in its scope: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The ending left questions unanswered, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to address unfinished business. It might only live on an old hard drive, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.

• This writer writes about the arts, music and fashion.