Samhain Publishing Ltd Weblog

Co-Writing: How does THAT work?

When I wrote my first novel, I was simultaneously attracted to and repulsed by the experience of solitude.

Sitting at my keyboard, I was reminded of that old TV commercial: Calgon, take me away! It’s easy to lose three, six —who are we kidding? – countless hours when you settle into the comfort of imaginary worlds. I loved my characters, honestly cared about their predicaments, and knew their environments so well I could picture something as small as a hairline crack along the edge of my protagonist’s teacup. My characters were real to me, and I looked forward to spending time with them.

But the flip-side of my experience is not quite so warm and fuzzy: I was lonely.

Characters don’t contribute much in the way of original conversation. I wanted to talk about my writing, not just the process of it, but the details: Would Kyra scream when her daughter disappeared, or fall into a grief-induced silence? Was her husband’s reaction hostile or honest? How could I get her to be alone in the woods? My extremely tolerant spouse indulged me these conversations in the early morning hours, after my third cup of coffee and before his first. But his interest was clearly surface and our morning meetings were closer to monologues than dialogues.

By training, I am a clinical psychologist, and perhaps that’s why I like to talk things to death. Or perhaps I’m just annoyingly chatty. Either way, I wanted somebody to read every paragraph, join me in analyzing character motivations and dialogue, craft plot twists with the same enthusiasm I felt, and discuss my writing ad nauseum.

I joined several writer’s groups and this was a rewarding experience. But here, my focus was always on product and rarely on process.

Then I discovered co-writing.

When I tell people I am writing a novel with someone else, the first question I’m asked is: “How does that work?” I’m sure there are many models, but here’s what works for me:

First, assess individual strengths and weaknesses. My first partner, for example, can’t write a metaphor to save her life, and I can’t write a funny joke to save mine. This helps determine the division of labor.

Second, form a contract. Even if you are writing with you best friend, lover, and soul-mate, you should have a written document. With my first co-writer, we simply drew up a ‘gentleman’s agreement’, co-signed by our spouses and notarized. The document covered such issues as financial obligations (supplies, postage, royalties…), rights to an unpublished work, contingencies for one person’s withdrawal from the project prior to completion, etc. With my current co-writer, we took the process a step further and had a contract drawn up by an attorney who specializes in entertainment law.

Third, agree on a ‘system’. My first co-writer and I each took on a character and wrote alternating chapters in two voices. My current co-writer and I divide chapters on the basis of research. She writes scenes from the inside of a high school while I write scenes from the reading room of a local fortune teller.

Fourth, decide how to communicate. My first co-writer lived down the street and we had the luxury of meeting regularly over a pitcher of sangria. My current co-writer lives across the country, and we’ve only met one time. Collaborative writing sites like ZOHO WRITER (link) are terrific for sharing documents and saving drafts.

And finally, you need to enter the process with eyes wide open. My current writing partner keeps the following list posted on her office wall:

Welcome to the world of co-writing. During this process, YOU WILL:

• 1. Find your writing style modified. Instead of cranking out an entire draft and then editing, you will be editing as you go.


• 2. Find getting through the first draft takes forever.


• 3. Find editing the first draft is easier than you expect.


• 4. Curse your writing partner and say: “Why the hell did I do this? I could write this damn thing better and faster if I did it myself!” (The key is to remember that the ideas are joint and you WOULDN’T write the damn thing yourself.)
• 
  
• 5. Feel like apologizing for every change you make, every idea you reject, every idea your partner hates, and every typo your partner corrects.


• 6. Argue.


• 7. Have fun.

I would love to hear from others who have experimented with the process of co-writing. What works for you? What pitfalls have you encountered? And if you’ve never tried it, would you want to? Why or why not?

Category: Writing, Miscellaneous | 08/22/07 05:00 AM