Bellissima Pouted and Simpered

  1. by jenCharacter – supermodel
  2. Setting – elevator
  3. Object – library card
  4. Situation – hazing

Bellissima pouted and simpered and flirted with the overweight businessman she shared the elevator with. In practically no time he consented to hand over his library card. This part of the scavenger hunt was almost too easy. Bellissima knew that the rest of her hazing would be more difficult, but it would be worth it to join the elite Sisterhood of Supermodels. They got the best parking places.

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Tag-team typing

r-avatarKent and Jen spent most of the evening revising a query letter, by literally passing the keyboard back and forth. It’s not the normal Rune Skelley process, but with something as brief as a letter it made sense. It was exhausting!

That’s probably the image that a lot people form when they hear that we write together. Maybe some co-authors do work that way all the time, but it seems doubtful. When we’re working on a novel we go through distinct stages, and how we collaborate changes depending which stage we’re in.

The initial conceptualization and outlining are intensely collaborative and real-time. Much of it happens out loud, with one of us charged with taking notes.

After that comes the creation of stubs. Jen does 99% of the stubbing, but as soon as there are a few of them in the bag Kent can get started on the first-draft prose. So in this phase of the project, we’re working in the same room at the same time, on the same novel, but we’re tackling separate aspects of it in parallel. It’s a divide-and-conquer approach.

Once stubbing reaches a certain point, Jen joins in on the prosification. She and Kent choose which scenes to work on based on which characters and subject matter they feel the greatest affinity for, and sometimes there’s a little arm wrestling involved.

Eventually, all these isolated scenes written by different people need to come together into a harmonious whole. Smoothing the seams and debugging the story flow is the bulk of the work involved with our second draft. This marks a return to a more simultaneous work style, discussing the moves as we make them. There will often be rewriting or entire new scenes that we discover a need for, so there’s also some parallel work going on.

Somewhere in here is when we begin taking chapters in for our critique group. Gathering and analyzing the feedback is another intensive aspect of collaboration. We’re both there, and we trade knowing glances as readers speculate about plot twists. We pore over the marked-up copies we get back, and collate the input that we plan to factor into the next revision pass.

While the manuscript is “rough” we tend toward the parallel approach, splitting up the scenes between us and putting more polish on things each time through until it’s time to shift gears again. In the finishing stage, we pull up our chairs to the same desk and go through the whole book together. It looks a lot like how we worked on the letter tonight, but that resemblance is superficial. We have a highly developed system for those late-stage edits on our novels. What made the letter so much more tiring was that we were composing it as much as revising it. Rather than just needing to agree on whether or not we need the word “had” in a sentence, we needed to create cogent sentences out of thin air.

Olga Pouted

  1. k-avatarCharacter – supermodel
  2. Setting – gazebo
  3. Object – fountain pen
  4. Situation – the last bunch of bananas…

Olga pouted. She smiled, a bashful sidelong smirk accompanied by come-hither eyes. She licked her lips. Nothing was working.

“I just don’t see your need for the pen. Something’s missing.” The photographer looked around helplessly.

Olga ran her tongue over the fountain pen.

Gary was a temperamental perfectionist, but he never missed a shot.

“That’s fantastic. But they’ll never run it.” He reached behind him, groping around on the table. “I’ve got it. We need more bananas.”

Gary located one last bunch amid the decimated fruit baskets and cold-cut trays. He raced into the gazebo and meticulously positioned the bright yellow fruit atop the mound already there.

Olga pouted.

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Anna Switched Off the Rerun of Gilligan’s Island

  1. by jenCharacter – Anna Graham
  2. Setting – Gilligan’s Island
  3. Object – handgun
  4. Situation – attic full of surprises

Anna switched off the rerun of Gilligan’s Island and stood at the bottom of the stairs. From behind the closed attic door came an incessant whirring noise. What was Telly up to now?

“Hey, Anna,” he shouted down to her. “Come on up! I have something incredible to show you!”

Anna sighed. Telly was always convinced that his latest invention was going to solve all their financial problems, but so far he hadn’t gotten a single patent. Anna slowly climbed the 12 stairs and opened the door.

“Surprise!” Telly yelled. He flipped the lights off and on several times and beamed at her. He wore his ratty t-shirt with the picture of the hand gun on it, surrounded by all the roses.

“Yes?” she asked.

“This will put Telly Graham Labs on the map!” he said, waving some sketches at her.

Anna glanced at the papers, but could not decipher them.

“What is it?” she asked. “And what is that sound?”

“Oh, that’s the cold fusion reactor. I need to figure out a way to cut down on the noise before I market it. But look at this! This is it! We’ll be rich!”

“Telly, honey, I can’t understand it.”

“It’s an in-the-peel orange juicer! We’ll be rich!”

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Fine-Grained Collaboration

r-avatarUsually when Rune Skelley is writing a novel, the workload is divided up by scene. Kent and Jen work in parallel, each at his or her own desk, on his or her own computer, writing his or her own scene. We have both gotten pretty good at writing in the Rune Skelley voice, and our personal idiosyncrasies are smoothed out during editing. The Kent scenes become more Jen, the Jen scenes become more Kent.

Our current project has introduced a new wrinkle to our writing partnership. In a move that seems to be related to creating stubs, Jen has recently started writing little micro-scenes and then handing them over to Kent to finish. These differ from stubs in that they are, more or less, fully formed prose. Really brief sections of fully formed prose.

The first one was a seduction. Jen knew exactly how a pivotal point in the characters’ interaction would play out. Rather than risk losing its spark by summarizing it, or losing it altogether by backburnering it until it was time to write the whole scene, she typed up the part she knew, capturing the eroticism of the moment beautifully.

Kent had the challenge of working up to that exact moment, and then back out of it again, without disturbing it. He did a brilliant job, which emboldened Jen to write up several more micro-scenes that were rattling around in her head.

It’s a tricky way to work when you’re collaborating. A solo author can do exactly as he or she wants at any given point in the composition process. When you’re working with a writing partner, you need to be mindful about too many constrictions.

We believe that boundaries spark creativity, but too many boundaries can cause paralysis. A partner is a boundary of sorts, placing constraints on what you write, but in a good partnership that limitation paradoxically becomes a source of greater inspiration.

Xavier Knew

  1. k-avatarCharacter – retired pearl diver
  2. Setting – dead end
  3. Object – Geiger counter
  4. Situation – obscene phone call

Xavier knew what few others even thought to suspect, things hidden in the inky depths of the sea. Forced into early retirement over the Bimini Road Incident, he scraped by on a consultant’s income, unable to line up a big score without drawing down the wrath of an international conspiracy bent on keeping the Deep Things forever secret.

And now he walked quickly, sure he was being tailed. Damn! If only he hadn’t agreed to make that one last dive. His shadows were cool, professional, relentless. And they could zero in on him wherever he went by following the clicking of a Geiger counter, which would betray his presence ever since he retrieved the launch codes from the crippled Trident sub.

He turned into an alley and jogged to the first bend. It dead-ended behind a dentist’s office. Peering back out to the street he saw the men seeking him with their electromagnetic bloodhound. They came into the alley, but slowed. Xavier held his breath. The waste disposal containers from the dentist were masking his own signal! If he just kept silent…

His phone rang — why didn’t he set it on vibrate? He instantly silenced it and hissed, “Hello?” into the mouthpiece.

“I’m calling for Mr. Hunt, first name Mike. Is he there?”

The situation was worse than Xavier had feared. It wasn’t the CIA or NSA tailing him. The obscene phone call was the signature motif of the Pearl Divers Union, local 308, and they frowned upon scab sinkers.

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“Welcome Back”

  1. by jenCharacter – inventor of the spank-o-matic
  2. Setting – the Ghost Planet
  3. Object – a single electron
  4. Situation – lost piece of jewelry

“Welcome back to Space Ghost Coast to Coast. I’m your host, Brak. Space Ghost is busy right now, so he can’t sit behind the desk.”

“He’s busy being spanked,” Zorak said. Then he laughed gratingly and blinked audibly. “Pa-dunk.”

Moltar pulled some levers and showed a replay of the first guest segment.

Space Ghost is heckling a nebbishy-looking guy about his invention, the Spank-O-Matic. Space Ghost cannot grasp the concept. The man, Phil, invites Space Ghost to try his invention and Space Ghost falls for it. Once Space Ghost is all strapped in, Phil removes his mask and reveals himself to be Zorak.

Canned laughter plays while Space Ghost is spanked.

Moltar pulled some more levers and showed Brak attempting to interview a single electron. The electron was getting the better of him.

Zorak ducked down inside his pod and popped back up holding an earring.

“Hey, Zorak,” said Moltar. “What’re you doing with Black Widow’s earring?”

“Umm. Err,” Zorak mumbled.

Canned laughter accompanied a knowing look between Brak and Moltar.

Zorak blushed.

Run credits.

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The Extended Forecast

r-avatarWell, we’re about 50,000 words into the new project now, and we’re humming right along. This first draft is going to be enormous!

Our rapid progress is aided by a thorough outline, and by the stubs Jen makes from it. The giant tangled ball of barbed wire that was the timeline has been straightened and smoothed, and we now have a stockpile of about 20 stubs. That will translate into 20 or so scenes.

Now that the roughest part is behind her, Jen is tempted to steam ahead and make stubs for the rest of the novel. It’s a temptation she’s going to resist though, because a novel in progress is a living, breathing thing, prone to wanting to do things its own way. When it has two authors, that tendency is even greater.

In much the same way that a weather forecast isn’t terribly reliable more than a few days in advance, our stubs lose their relevancy if we make them too soon. Small changes accumulate as the stubs are turned into prose, and that accumulation can lead to the necessity to course-correct. Or to decide to go in another direction. A character’s motivations and personality become clearer as they are written, and actions that made sense in the abstract no longer do when the ink hits the paper.

Jen has already been forced to update some of the stubs that led into the giant ball of barbed wire, and she would rather not have to repeat the process. The second half of the book will wait patiently for us to work our way through the current stub inventory, and if we drift too far off course, we’ll talk together about how to get back on track.

We have a long car trip coming up, so that will be a great time to hash it all out.

“No Pushing!”

  1. k-avatarCharacter – burned-out kindergarten teacher
  2. Setting – DMV
  3. Object – pile of sawdust
  4. Situation – lost a piece of jewelry

“No pushing! Remember our manners, children.”

The weary throng queueing for license and registration issues tried to ignore Cyril, just as they tried to ignore the shrill whine of saws and the incessant pounding of hammers. Tried and failed.

“This field trip will be over soon,” Cyril shouted. “Now, nobody is to leave this room until I say. There’s a little job I need to do over here, and I want everyone to just be still and use your inside voices.”

Cyril knelt next to the plastic sheeting marking the construction zone, frantically sifting through a pile of sawdust in search of the candy bracelet he didn’t remember eating during the first hour he’d stood in line.

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Hotel Room in Prague

Jen and Kent both took a stab at this prompt. Who do you think did a better job? Why?

  1. Character – the human fly
  2. Setting – hotel room in Prague
  3. Object – camcorder
  4. Situation – inventing something

k-avatar

Kent’s Take

Spike always loved climbing in the old cities, clambering over all the ornamental stonework and making faces at the other gargoyles.

But he mostly hated climbing hotels. Other buildings’ occupants could usually be counted on to be thoroughly sick of whatever sad excuse for a view lay beyond the window, but in hotels everyone is still getting used to the scenery. And paranoid as hell that some lunatic might come in over the ledge and do some hideous thing that the papers will hush up to protect tourism.

At the fifth floor of the Prague Hilton, Spike heard moaning. Slowly he pulled himself high enough to glance in. The first thing he saw was the camcorder on a tripod. The next thing took him some moments to comprehend. It was something that had never occurred to him, although it looked like fun.

He climbed on, secret witness to an invention of passion.

 

by jenJen’s Take

By Eastern European standards, the room was luxurious. By Misty’s Vegas standards it was merely not squalid. But it would do.

The light on the camcorder blinked steadily, letting Misty know that her every move was being recorded for later broadcast by Czech television.

Shifting her weight entirely to her left hand, Misty slowly, slowly lowered her knees toward the floor while pointing her toes toward the gilt ceiling and flourishing madly with her right hand.

The chandelier she hung from swayed slightly and Misty worked with the movement, augmenting it until she was swinging several inches in each direction. Her movements stabilized the arc, controlled it, and she was ready for the final motion, the twist that would make this move her own.

Taking a deep breath, Misty thrust her feet outward and her head down, while simultaneously rotating clockwise.

It was beautiful.

Prague would forever be known as the city where “The Nightingale” was invented.

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