Category: Writing as a Team

Two people writing as a team can have advantages over soloist authors. But to have a fruitful writing partnership we must adopt a process that utilizes our strengths, and we need a relationship that’s strong enough to support the endeavor. Here’s where we explore the matter from various angles.

Make Critique Work With Your Process

r-avatarWe never bring our works-in-progress to critique group until the first draft is done, and it has at least one polishing edit applied. The experience with our second novel taught us not to. The plot got twisted into a writhing tangle of second-guesses as we tried to alleviate our readers’ confusion. Eventually we decoded the feedback and realized that the problem really had nothing to do with plot. The issue was characterization, things we were forgetting to put on the page because we knew the character so well.

Readers don’t know what you have up your sleeve, so their comments are sometimes out of proportion. We found that when our upcoming pages were still hypothetical, it was all too easy to lose our own sense of proportion.

It was just one way the critique process can go haywire when you bring in material that’s not ready. The wheels can come off in other ways, too. You should at least not treat your critiquers like proofreaders; make sure to read over your own draft looking for mechanical problems before you send it around.

There are times when you’re stuck, and you can’t finish the first draft for that very reason, and then you should bring it to your group in whatever shape it’s in. They can help you prod and twist your ideas and maybe provide the inspiration you need.

Writing with a partner gives you an extra set of eyes, which makes it much easier to spot little things like dropped words. It also gives you someone to discuss deeper story structure with while it’s being written, someone to help keep the ideas bouncing so you don’t get too stuck. A good collaborator will challenge you to make your scenes even more awesome, and when asked if something works will occasionally say, “Not really.” You might be able to do that much just by talking to yourself, but the magic of flesh-and-blood writing partners is that they often offer constructive suggestions along with their blunt honesty.

All of this means Rune Skelley’s first drafts aren’t really first drafts, not once they’re ready for the group. By serving up something that’s clean and debugged, we clear the way for our fellow writers to let us know how they’re connecting with the characters, and how the story makes them feel.

 

Multitasking Made Easy

r-avatarIt was a bit like herding cats, but we are finally back into the fiction writing we allegedly love. We were away from it long enough to convince ourselves we had forgotten how it works. Following the read-through of the existing 75,000 words, we procrastinated with discussions about modifying the ending (some of which were fruitful), and then we procrastinated some more with movies to “reward” ourselves for completing unrelated projects.

Several times we sat down to work and were stymied. Months ago when we stepped away from the project, we didn’t leave ourselves set up very well to step back in. Kent had a few cryptic sentences at the start of his scene. Jen simply had a document called “Deja Vu.” It was blank. The fear of the blank page got so bad that we even put off writing anything new in favor of backfilling a retaining wall with 4 tons of gravel.

In the end, we had to lock ourselves in the writing cave and stare at the flashing cursors on our monitors until we remembered how to make our fingers push all those tiny little buttons with the letters on them.

It felt good to produce something again, and we’re falling back into our old rhythms, which reminds us why it’s so nice to write with a partner. Jen is composing prose like a demon while Kent is busy learning all the important aspects of mouse breeding. If there were only one of us, progress would be slower. The writing would have to stop while the research into how temperature affects the genders of mouse fetuses was accomplished. With two of us, no such work stoppage is necessary. Kent can gather all the information he needs for future scenes while Jen works with the characters who are not elbow-deep in rodents. It’s a win-win.

In case you were wondering, colder = more female mice.

Movie Night

r-avatarLast weekend we watched three movies, making only a tiny dent in the heap of them on our DVR. One was quite good, one was simply unambitious, and one was dreadful.

Being a writer can make it harder to enjoy movies, because so many movies are weak in story and writers become sensitized to that kind of problem. This one was really bad, not just failing to meet a writer’s elevated standards. Bad. (And it’s doubtless someone’s favorite movie, so it shall remain anonymous. No need to start a fight.)

Bad movies are baffling; was there no one on set who realized what a craptastic troglodyte they were making? When you’re working with a partner, you’re supposed to have someone there to tell you when the writing sucks. It’s probably a good idea to employ a bit more tact, but it really is important to be honest. It’s equally important to be receptive to your partner’s honest criticisms.

Unless you would rather not know about the craptastic troglodyte.

That’s What She Said

 

r-avatarOr was it him?

Writing is often a solitary pursuit. When you have a co-author, a lot of the loneliness can be mitigated, but it’s still a good idea to widen your circle.

As we’ve mentioned in earlier posts, we belong to a critique group. Our weekly meetings provide a chance to get out of the writing cave and connect with other writers. We highly recommend finding your own group of authors for in-person meetings. You’ll get help with sticky prose, encouragement and reassurance on your journey to publication, and by helping others with their sticky prose, you’ll hone your mad editing skillz.

When you work as part of a writing team, you get an added benefit to critique group membership: the others will not be able to resist trying to suss out which of you wrote which passage. If you’ve done your job well, they will have a hard time guessing. It’s amusing to watch them, and gratifying, too. If your fellow writers have a hard time determining authorship, it means you’re doing it right.

There will be partnerships that break up the writing tasks along gender lines, with the male author writing the male characters and the female author writing the females. If that’s what works for you, it’s not a problem. It just makes the critique group guessing game easier once they figure out the pattern. In other writing partnerships, one of you will handle the dialog and the other the action, or one may excel at the relationship stuff while the other is a master of intricate plotting.

However you divide the work, you should strive for a unified voice. Make it your goal to stump your readers, even when they are writers that you know personally, that in addition to understanding the rules of fiction writing, know your individual voices and personalities.

back in the saddle, almost

r-avatarThis week we finally took some serious steps back toward writing. Because of the lengthy interruption in our routine, we couldn’t just dive straight back in. We needed to do a read-through of the existing material first.

Our current novel is about half done, standing at 75,000 words. That doesn’t mean it will definitely be 150,000 when it’s finished, just that we’ve dealt with roughly half of the events defined in the outline. World-building can be dialed back now, but on the other hand there’s a lot of complicated action coming up. And it’s a first draft, so who knows what might happen in revisions. What we do know is it was a very wise move to get reacquainted with the text, because with that much of it there were a lot of details we had forgotten.

The experience of reading the whole thing rapidly was very enjoyable; dare we say we were pleasantly surprised. It got us talking about the curious tension between author and manuscript. You have to be in love with it, because some powerful force needs to motivate you to take on so much work. But you also need to be your own work’s harshest critic if you really love it, because excising the merely good to make room for something great is also a ton of work. When you’re wrapped up in the crafting of prose, sometimes the big-picture aspects of the project become hazy. You need to get some distance once in a while. In that respect, our longer-than-planned hiatus had a silver lining.

We were each going to read it separately, but instead Kent wound up reading the whole (half) novel aloud. Jen was very appreciative. We made notes as we went, often discussing the book during our evening strolls. We did spot some gaps we’ll have to fill, and we agreed that some of what’s there will need significant changes. Some writers might opt to tackle those revisions by way of resuming the writing workflow, but we’re not going to do that. Now that the whole thing is again fresh in our collective mind, and we have good notes about the things we were concerned about in the first half, we’re going to move forward. That’s what nearly all the writing advice books say, and it’s one case where we firmly agree with them.

Getting back up to speed after a layoff is always tricky. Jen and Kent find that having a writing partner helps tremendously with overcoming the inertia that inevitably sets in. Even if you write solo, it’s a really good idea to connect with other writers somehow, such as through involvement with a critique group. You’ll feel a bit of peer pressure, which in this case is a good thing. With a collaborator, that incentive to be productive is always there.

Collabo DIY-A-Palooza Part 2: Defining Your Process

r-avatarThis is the second post in our Nuts and Bolts series.

We all have different work styles, and there’s no one right way to write. If your style conflicts with your partner’s, however, trouble is going to be the result. Nothing stalls out a collaboration better than toiling over a passage until you’re thoroughly pleased with it, only to hear from your partner that it’s not what the project requires. The upshot is, however much structure you do or don’t like in your writing life, a successul collaboration probably means you’ll need a bit more.

Because you and your writing partner are not Jen and Kent, your optimal process will not be exactly the Rune Skelley formula. But it’s a good place to start and can be seasoned to taste. So, here’s the very broad strokes of How To Do It:

  • concept development (gotta find something you’re both really into)
  • outline (can be more like a synopsis, as long as it’s organized)
  • stubs (the Rune Skelley secret weapon!)
  • composition (turning stubs into scenes)
  • successive editing and revision passes (start with structure and pacing, then tighten up descriptions and dialog, and finally polish the prose)

All of the pieces are important, and we’ll talk about each of them again at some point, but the heart of the system is stubs.

Stubs are a lot like writing prompts, albeit very formalized ones. We’ve talked before about why we like them so much. Here’s the recipe.

  • limit the scope to one scene
  • specify the setting and characters (do this even if it feels too obvious)
  • add continuity notes about clothing, how many bullets are still in the gun, etc.
  • give bland, bald, simple statements of what everyone is feeling, which secrets they do and don’t know at this point, etc. (the stub must not be subtle, nor open to interpretation)
  • summarize the scene’s job, e.g., “this is how Mary finds out Bob is dead,” or “establishes Zeke’s obsession with parakeets”

Why can’t you just jump right into writing the scenes? You can. The reason we recommend creating stubs first is the extra structure. We find stubs are an ideal way to divvy things up between the two of us, and they help us identify places where we might not have exactly the same vision before they escalate into “creative differences.”

Spoiler Telepathy

r-avatarAn important way that we’ve kept one foot in the writing universe while distracted from our usual routine is by attending our critique group meetings. In that environment, we are sometimes two people and sometimes just one.

If the work being critiqued is someone else’s, then Kent and Jen each provide separate feedback. Rune Skelley, per se, doesn’t offer any suggestions. However, when it’s Rune Skelley’s pages under discussion, then it’s Rune Skelley sitting at the table. We pass significant looks and sometimes literally pass notes to each other, but Jen usually finds just stepping on Kent’s foot under the table is enough to make her point.

The need for all this clandestine communication arises from spoilers. Maybe not every critique group runs this way, but we like to get “an honest read” on our material. Plot points and character motivations often look quite different when you’re clued in about where it all leads, which means a spoiled reader will see connections that others might miss. To get a feel for whether the story is tracking, we keep our readers in the dark.

But the whole point of the group is to talk shop. Sometimes you want to throw out hypothetical edits and see if people feel they’d improve the flow or clarity. Sometimes you simply need to confirm, “You guys know Wiggins robbed the bank and Jinks is just taking the fall, right?” Delving into real analysis of the text means flirting with spoilers.

This is where telepathy comes in handy. With a quirked eyebrow, Kent can ask if it’s okay to bring up a plot detail, and Jen will know which one he means. We can ride the line to keep our readers honest while still being able to have a conversation with them. And if Kent starts to babble, Jen can always step on his foot.

Tentative Steps

r-avatarAs we mentioned a few weeks ago, we’ve been distracted from our fiction by an unrelated project. That project is finally in its death throes — finally! — and we will soon turn our eyes and brains back to writing.

As the title of this post suggests, we’ve taken a few hesitant steps back into our imaginary world already. On our walks, we’ve started to talk about the characters again. It feels like we’ve been away from them forever, and I suspect that it’s going to be a little tricky to get back into the flow. We plan to finish kicking the side-project’s ass, then take a little break to watch the new season of Arrested Development (our carrot through this whole process). Kent has a week off, so the timing is excellent.

Once the Bluth family is done with us, we’ll recommit to the fiction. We’ll start by rereading the unfinished novel, to get our sea legs back, and then we’ll push through and write the rest of it.

A writing partner can make it easier to get back on track with a project, because you are responsible to someone besides yourself.

The right partner can also take on the majority of the work when you have other obligations, thereby minimizing downtime. Just be sure to return the favor when your partner’s life gets hectic.

In the Rune Skelley case, being married means that this intrusion impacted us both equally, and derailed the entire novel. Maybe we need to hire an intern to take up the slack.

Beautiful Music

r-avatarAs collaborators, you and your writing partner should strive to make beautiful music together, or least beautiful prose. But what happens when you can’t decide on what music to play in the work room?

Jen and Kent have a lot of overlap in musical tastes, most importantly agreeing on what sort of music should never, under any circumstances, be played. That’s a nice, solid base to build on. There are bands that we both enjoy, and that make pretty successful seeds for Pandora stations (although all Pandora roads seem to lead to the Strokes, who are not a favorite of either of us).

We eschew headphones in the writing cave, because we like to be able to talk to each other easily. The problems arise when Kent wants to get his prog on, or when Jen falls a little too far down the Jack White rabbit hole. When your background music becomes a distraction for your coauthor, a change must be made.

Here at Skelley Co we’ve found that The Beatles’ Love, or classical music makes a good compromise.

That or we just wait ten minutes until our son starts practicing his drums. He effectively drowns out the world. Problem solved.

Wild Oats

r-avatarWriting with a partner is what we focus on here, but we do realize it’s not the only way to get things done. We realize it, but we see it a little differently.

Jen is a serial collaborator. Her extracurriculars are collaborative in nature, and the stuff of legend. This has gained her a bit of a wider perspective on writing with partners. She can operate in a completely different mode for a while, and then return to the Rune Skelley paradigm with a refreshed mind. Her appetite for doing any writing on her own: zero.

Kent collaborates only with Jen, and has no interest in trying things with another partner. He harbors, however, the occasional non-Skelleyish inspiration and likes working solo on these side projects, so far all short stories. It’s usually that they’re not the right type of science fiction for Rune, although in at least one case it wasn’t science fiction at all. (That’s certainly not the right type of science fiction, so there you go.) These stories give Kent a chance to sing a few notes in a different key. He needs that outlet once in a while, and then comes back to the collaboration with fewer distractions.

You might feel nervous about entering into a collaborative arrangement. Doing so means you’ll need to learn how to mesh your writing personality with another, and that can feel like a threat to your individual voice. These fears are natural, but all you have to remember is that you’re free to sow some writerly wild oats whenever you want to.