how to collaborate with another writer: a case study

One Small Step: an anthology of discoveries launched last weekend at Conflux. I’m honored to have a story (co-written with the super-talented Jo Anderton) included in it.

This was my first ever collaboration, and I thought it’d be useful to talk about how the process worked out for us.

The Setup

Last fall, Tehani Wessely, editor of the anthology, contacted Jo and me with the idea of collaborating on a short story for One Small Step. We (metaphorically) looked at each other, looked at Tehani, and said, “Sure!” After all we’ve been friends for almost a decade now (has it really been this long, Jo?) and have a lot of experience with each other’s work. Even though our styles are different, we have enough common overlap that we could (probably) handle writing a short story together.

It was also the perfect project for collaboration. Neither of us was playing in the other’s sandbox (“hey, want to write a story in my world?” “Er… no.”) nor was our canvas unlimited (“So what shall we write together?” “Uh, I dunno”). We had a theme (discoveries), a form (short story), and a deadline.

So, we got to it.

The Idea

Almost immediately, we ran into some uh… differences in our processes.

Me, I come up with an idea, then run with it. I churn out several pages to see where it’ll go. Sometimes the idea works, sometimes it doesn’t. I have lots of unfinished short stories on my hard drive. I consider them regrettable but expected casualties of my writing process.

Not so with Jo. She isn’t willing to latch on to the first shiny idea that floats by. She wanted to wait for something special, the idea that set her story senses a-tingle.

So we waited for the lightning strike (some of us more patiently than others). A week or so later, Jo emailed me a photo of an old woman huddled in a doorway with an ornate doll next to her. “I think there’s a story in this picture,” she wrote me.

By golly, she was right.

We were both fascinated by this picture and traded speculations back and forth for days. Both of us agreed that dolls were creepy (I kept having flashbacks to Child’s Play). Then I remembered Hinamatsuri, or Dolls’ Day in Japan. We put the two together and I–yes, well I did what’s natural to my style–forged ahead and wrote a bunch of snippets exploring character, plot, and setting.

I think Jo knew I was chomping at the bit, so she let me. We talked over the snippets a lot (and I learned something about Jo: she doesn’t like to write about royalty). Both of us were very excited and creeped out about what we were getting. And I really appreciated Jo’s insistence on digging deep into the idea and taking it from good to great. “Good enough” doesn’t exist in her vocabulary, and it’s a lesson I’m applying to my own writing from now on.

An Aside

I’m going to pause here to mention one very important thing: do not look at a collaboration as something that will save you time. More likely, it won’t. Jo and I could’ve probably written two stories each in the time it took us to write Sand and Seawater.

Think about it this way. When you’re writing your own story, you only have to satisfy two people: You and Your Muse. When you’re writing with someone else, there are two Yous and two Muses, and they all need to be on board. It’s bad enough keeping one pairing happy, but two…!

(Oh, and apparently, our Muses have some telepathic connection that doesn’t go through us. Now that is also creepy.)

The Actual Writing!

All right, so once we were happy with our ideas, we started writing! Luckily for us, there were two POVs, so Jo took the doll and I took the old woman. We alternated scenes, and I noticed a style difference right away. My scenes sprawl, while Jo writes tighter. Once we hammered out the plot and nailed the climax, we each went through to cut out redundant material and tighten everything up. (I may be a first-draft sprawler but I’m ruthless when wielding a red pen).

A fitting concluding scene took us a bit of back-and-forth, but I think, again, we nailed it.

Checklist For Success

I would call this a very successful collaboration. Not only did we sell the story, but:

  • We are both very proud and pleased with it.
  • This is a story that neither of us would’ve come up with on our own.
  • And–most importantly–we’re still friends. And we both see this experience as a net positive, not something to be quietly shoved into a closet and never ever done again. We’re both too much of loners to do a lot of collaboration, but who knows? In the future you might be seeing more work with both our names on it. *is deliberately vague and mysterious*

Jo has her own thoughts about our collaborative experience here (link might not work until later in the day, since she’s already gone to bed). Update: Link works!

Have you collaborated? Share your experiences!

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proofs! and a release!

My proofs for Rainbird and Mourning Cloak arrived earlier this week.

Aren’t they pretty?

Proofs

They look EVEN BETTER in real life.

There really is nothing like seeing your name on the cover of a physical book. I had an ear-to-ear grin on my face for about an hour after they came.

Right now, David’s checking them for errors (I know, I know, I’m spoiled). They should be ready to go in a week or so. Keep an eye on this space!

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One Small Step

One Small Step: an anthology of discoveries launched last weekend at Conflux. Jo Anderton and I have a story in there. “Sand and Seawater” has already gotten some nice shout-outs on Goodreads, and the anthology as a whole has been favorably reviewed in places like Publisher’s Weekly.

Next week, I’ll post about our experience collaborating on this story.

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I’ve been busily working away on some short stories for the past couple of weeks, including some broken fairy tales for a follow-up to Shattered. I’m hoping to get that out in June and then buckle down to Ironhand and release that a couple months later.

What are your writing plans? Do you have any new or upcoming releases? Let us know in the comments!

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goodreads giveaway of One Small Step

One of the few rays of light brightening my Week of Gunk was the arrival of One Small Step: An Anthology of Discoveries and Jo Anderton’s The Bone Chime Song and Other stories. I’m reading One Small Step right now, and I’m so impressed with the caliber of all the stories. I’m honored to be in among such company.

But you don’t have to take my word for it. You can enter a Goodreads giveaway for One Small Step for a chance to see for yourself!

And while you’re there, you could also enter to win a copy of Jo’s short story collection. She’s a fine writer and I’m looking forward to the stories of hers that I’ve missed!

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friday this and that

Are you a NaNoWriMo winner planning to self-publish for the first time? My fabulous and generous cover artist, Ravven, is giving away a FULL publishing package to one deserving writer–complete with editing, proofreading, formatting, cover art, website graphics, and marketing help.

(And yes, yours truly is one of the volunteer beta readers!)

Go here to find out the details.

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The cover for FableCroft Publishing’s One Small Step is here!

One Small Step

This anthology contains the short story “Sand and Seawater”, co-written by Joanne Anderton and me.

Our tagline–brought to you by Jo–is Dolls are creepy, read this story!

(Better tagline coming soon…)

Aussie peeps, you can pre-order a copy here (you lucky things, you!)

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Links from around the web:

You Don’t Do Much Else Interesting and 25 Other Reasons Why No One Likes Your Art

More Insights on Sharpening Your Creative Mind

IndieReCon (posts, videos, chat replays)

Out, All of You! On fighting for your own voice

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3 Reasons Why You Should Subscribe To My Newsletter

You guys! I was just working on my first. ever. newsletter which is going out on Monday. And yes, I’m going to encourage you to sign up for it.

Why? Three reasons:

1. Never miss out. If you enjoy my work, make sure you don’t miss out on any of my upcoming releases. Let’s face it. Sometimes life gets busy; we drop out of Twitter and nuke our RSS feed readers and disappear from the Internet. My low-frequency newsletter delivers news of my published fiction right to your Inbox. Your time is valuable, and so is mine. My newsletters will be short, sweet, and come out no more than once a month (realistically, more like once a quarter–a fast writer I am not!).

2. Coupons! I love to thank my readers with coupons for my work, which you can use at Smashwords.

3. Exclusive content. This will mostly be short fiction, though I’m open to other suggestions (character interviews, for instance). The newsletter exclusive for this month? A short story set in Highwind, featuring a girl who sets off into Deep Night to rescue her sister from wither women.

Convinced? Sign up below! I respect your privacy, and will never sell or share your email address.

    Sign up for one or both!

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Speaking of Highwind and Mourning Cloak, my early reviews are all asking for more stories set in this world. My muse has obligingly handed me about four more Highwind stories, including a direct sequel to Mourning Cloak. I guess I’d better get cracking!

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Mourning Cloak excerpt

Two more weeks until Mourning Cloak comes out! In the meantime, here’s an excerpt. Enjoy!

Mourning CloakKato Vorsok is a man deserted by his god. A failed hero living in exile, he wants nothing to do with his old life.

Until the night he encounters a wounded mourning cloak—a demon that can walk through walls, dissolve into mist, and spear a man’s heart with a fingernail.

She calls him by name. She knows his past. She needs his help.

And she is his key to redemption.

Mourning Cloak is a science fantasy novella of about 22,000 words.

 

Excerpt

The mourning cloak flutters against my shop window, eyes dark and wide, mouth open in soundless desire. Her pale hands scrabble against the glass that separates her from my bottles—the opaque green of the darkly bitter clava, the translucent pinks and peaches of fruit mixes, the speckled earth tones of the nutty milks, all frosted from the alchemical ice vaporizing around them. She’s been here every night this week.

It’s the smell, I tell myself. The drinks, the pastries. She’s attracted by their smell.

And then her eyes, grey lurking on the edge of black, with no pupils or irises or whites, just dozens of hexagonal facets, look at me.

She looks at me. Sees me.

My hands and feet go cold. The glass I’m polishing slips from my fingers, falls on to the granite counter. Cracks.

She knows. Somehow, even after two years of keeping my head down and staying home at nights, she’s found me.

I’m a dead man.

The warding bells on my door jangle. A party of bright young things, cheeks red from the cold, sweep in with a dance of colored ribbons and sparkles at their throats. Lights flicker in the square behind them. Across the street, shadowy figures bubble out of the double doorway of the rhyme house. The taste of night is as bitter as sorrow on my lips. The smoky caress of death lingers on my face.

The bells clang together, the door crashes shut. And there is no more cold or night or death, but the warm honeyed scent of my shop and the tramp of shoes and the rustle of fabric and rhyme house bills as the young things throw off their coats and call out to each other and to me.

“…piss-poor performance…”

“… you having?”

“Peach paradise… could use it…”

“… cold as Gamina’s tits…”

The mourning cloak can’t have come for me.It’s been too long. I throw the cracked goblet in the trash, rim glasses with salt and sugar, uncork bottles, top with berries and sliced citrus, put on the affable smile of the drink-mixer.

But then, who knows why the cloaks come at all?

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She’s still there when they leave for the trams, those young ones with the aliveness of milk in their skin and the future bright in their eyes. They don’t see the mourning cloak, thanks to the protection of their baubles and the embroidered ribbons woven into their hair. When they brush past her, she shrinks away from their vitality, paper-thin and chalk-white in comparison.

I’m not fooled. I’ve seen a mourning cloak slide through a wall and spear a man’s heart with a fingernail.

In all my nights of hunting, fueled by red rage and corrosive vengeance, I’d only ever managed to kill one of them.

My wards are all that keep me safe from this cloak.

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She follows me from window to window as I stash bottles in the icebox, wipe tables, put up chairs and stools, mop the floor. She’s there when I turn the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, lock the door, twist the valves shut on my flow bottles and turn off the overhead lights.

She’s there, at the mouth of the alley, when I take out the trash under the yellow glare of the banish light. The last trolley of the evening sounds a low, mournful note on its horn as I slam the dumpster lid. I have wards all around my shop and my rooms at the back, but she doesn’t test them.

I’m a little disappointed. I pay good money and a monthly vial of blood for my wards. I’d like to see if the mourning cloak will flame and burn like the ward woman promised.

No such luck. She stands at the end of the alley, her cloak shivering all around her. She stretches her neck, stands on tiptoe, holds out those weak-looking fingers to me, as if pleading.

That helpless damsel routine may have worked for other men.

You know, the ones found with their bellies ripped open and their organs turned to ooze.

The trolley clanks away in the distance, the sound of metal on metal soon swallowed by the night.  I take the trash can inside and lock the door. I get my jar—the precious jar whose contents cost me half again as much as the wards did—and lay out a thin unbroken trail of white powder all along the inner walls of my shop and rooms.

And then I go to bed, and listen to the howls of eerie men and the snaps of cobble crunchers as I fall asleep.

Mourning cloaks are not the only reason I live behind my shop.

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a belated merry christmas!

Hope you all had a lovely holiday! I didn’t intend to be late with a Christmas greeting post, but one does not think about blogging while catching up with family, eating awesome food, and–most importantly of all–playing Angry Birds Star Wars.

Angry-Birds-Star-Wars

All the cool kids are playing this

On the way back home yesterday (long road trip, complete with cold rain, traffic jams, and boys gone wild in the backseat), I was thrilled to see these lovely reviews of Rainbird at Shelfspace Needed and Willing to See Less, both of which went immediately into my I-Don’t-Suck file.

Also, don’t forget that Rainbird is on sale till the end of January!

Rainbird Winter Sale

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Now back to work for me. Current projects include a novella set in Blackburn, the setting of Out of Shape, featuring Thad’s secretary Amanda; a short story set in Highwind, the world of Mourning Cloak; and a Secret Project that I’m not going to talk about yet *hugs it close*.  I also need to finish planning the next term of homeschool, and get my blogging schedule back in order. The time away was great, because I am excited to do ALL these things.

I love this time between Christmas and New Year’s. I love the quiet, the introspection, the comfort of the old, the excitement of the new.

What are your plans for the rest of 2012?

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saturday notes

At Linda Adams’ blog, I’m talking about  The Lone Woman: gender imbalance in the action/adventure genre.

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Kris Rusch’s post on writing like it’s 2009 talks about what it takes to build a writing career today. My takeaway: focus on production and quality, get my stories in front of readers, and be in it for the long haul.

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My books are now on Kobo!

Rainbird | Shattered | Unseen | Wired

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Rainbird is now on sale for $1.99–up till the end of January! And look, I even made a graphic:

Rainbird Winter Sale

Yes, I’m ludicrously excited about making this all by my lonesome. I have a tendency to go all deer-in-the-headlights when confronted by any sort of graphics program ever since a horrendous experience with Photoshop in college. Photoshop Elements is a LOT easier to deal with.

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Do you have any sales or new/upcoming releases? Tell us about them in the comments!

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weekend this and that

1. FableCroft Publishing announced the Table of Contents for their anthology, One Small Step: an anthology of discoveries. I am very excited that “Sand and Seawater”, co-written by Jo Anderton and me, is part of the lineup. This is our first collaboration and we’re so pleased it found a home.

2. The e-ARCs of Mourning Cloak are now available! If you’re a reviewer and would like a copy, go here to request one. Many thanks to Kellie Sheridan for setting this up. (Also, keep an eye out for a cover reveal coming up soon!)

Mourning Cloak

Kato Vorsok is a man deserted by his god. A failed hero living in exile, he wants nothing to do with his old life.

Until the night he encounters a wounded mourning cloak—a demon that can walk through walls, dissolve into mist, and spear a man’s heart with a fingernail.

She calls him by name. She knows his past. She needs his help.

 And she is his key to redemption.

Mourning Cloak is a 22,000-word science fantasy novella.

3. We got a tree yesterday, and it’s filling up the entire house with the spicy scent of fir. Now it really does feel like Christmas!

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under a blanket, thinking

1. This last week, I was over at A Digital Magician, blogging about what I learned about writing from video games.

2. On the writing front…*hollow laugh*

I’ve decided to step back from NaNo-lite, because I wasn’t getting anything else done. Not blogging. Not revising. Not getting to a dozen little business-y things that need my attention.

I’m still not getting any of those done, except for the revising. Which is fine, because I need Mourning Cloak to be in good shape by the end of this month. I’ll go back to Rafe after that’s done. In the meantime, he can enjoy a little rest because there’s a world of hurt coming his way (she laughs evilly).

Part of my lack of wordage is just… I’m scraping bottom. I’m out of blog ideas. I’m stretched thin among all these different writing projects. Plus, I’ve been thinking about a lot of different things recently and reading a lot and I just need time to process it all, before it comes out in blog posts and stories.

I feel struck dumb. I have nothing to say right now–at least not anything coherent that can be shared with others.

I know. And I’m writer. *spreads hands, shakes head*

3. Speaking of malevolent space dragons, here’s the trailer for Final Fantasy XIV (via Ravven). It’s an MMO so I won’t be playing it (er, watching David play it), but… dragons!

 

4. And speaking of Ravven, I don’t know if I ever linked to the post she did on the evolution of Rainbird‘s cover. It’s long, but it shows you just how much back and forth there was between us.

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