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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your favorite TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. The debut season ended with such precision: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to uncover hidden hints shedding light on future developments.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. 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 becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Too Many Seasons

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Look at Kaos, a clever mythological satire starring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Excellent actors (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Several prize nominations followed, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. This news brought me relief.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their coping with awful experiences, the story grew padded and excessive. That included the show’s tiring habit of introducing peripheral figures (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's disappointing, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

An Increasing Pattern

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Ideal Model

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, living rent-free in our imaginations, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, ran for just one year but achieved film-like breadth: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The ending left questions unanswered, but this reflects truth appropriately of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to resolve lingering mysteries. Though stored on outdated technology, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Unique Connection

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more shows can end gracefully.

• The author writes about the arts, music and fashion.