How We Co-Write Novels (Without Killing Each Other)

Hey Honey,

Whenever we tell people we write novels together, the first question they ask is... HOW? So I thought it would be fun to talk here about our process and share a sample of something we wrote together. 

First of all, I love our writing dates. We find a comfy spot — either at home after the kids go to bed, or if we're lucky enough to have someone else watching our kids, at a quiet café or bar with good food and WiFi. Then we each pick a different scene to work on. When we run out of steam, we read and edit each other's scenes. You generally add fun stuff to my writing, which we call "punching it up." I generally do more editing/organizing/clarifying on your scenes. And in the end, the narrative voice that comes out just... works. We are as surprised as anyone at how well our writing works together.

Of course, there are some outliers — there are some really important sections and jokes we worked on together, and there are also some brilliant short sections you wrote by yourself — we can talk about these and share some examples in a future post, but so far those are scenes that are all in unique and unusual formats, like redacted online chats between amateur terrorists (for our first novel, Buzzworthy) and a forum for Sasquatch hunters (for our second novel, Oaken). 

So below I’m sharing an example of a typical scene we wrote for Buzzworthy, with comments showing how we wrote this. To catch up folks who haven’t read it yet, the first few chapters all take place the day Hugh Chang is kidnapped, starting with two very different adult sisters in New York who are fans of him from a reality T.V. show he's on and eventually decide to go looking for him when he's kidnapped. Then in Chapter 3 here, we are in Hugh's point of view for the first time. We already know that he's a tech mogul in a fictional Asian island nation called Catijia who recently got engaged on our fictional dating show, The Catch.

Okay, without further ado: here's a scene from Chapter 3 of Buzzworthy:

Hugh checked his hair in the mirror and smoothed the back nervously. After months of having his appearance examined and criticized by every gossip magazine on the planet, he had become absurdly self-conscious about his hair. He had no idea that it “stuck up adorably” in the wind or that his widow’s peak was a sign of impending baldness. Learning things about yourself by reading the news was weird. They discussed him like he wasn’t a real person, like he was a collection of credentials and outfits. Oh, and you have perfect hair every day? he wanted to say to them. But, of course, no one ever said these things to his face.

So if I recall correctly, I drafted this scene first. I specifically remember writing this opening paragraph, and the following part in the limo. But then I'm pretty sure you wrote some of my favorite lines in this scene, which I’ll call out later.

“Hugh, we’re late.” His father’s voice buzzed into his room through the intercom.

“Coming, Dad.” Hugh grabbed his phone, and the lockscreen flashed the engagement selfie he’d taken with Amanda the day they’d finished filming the season finale of The Catch, just three weeks ago. His breath caught, and he felt pressure building behind his eyes. He couldn’t think about her — not today. The season finale had already begun airing in other time zones, and their engagement was finally public. If he could just pretend that everything was normal and get through today, then he’d figure out what to do. He quickly stuffed his phone into his suit jacket pocket. The suit made him sweat in the tropical heat, but his father had always insisted on formal wear at the office, and at some point Hugh had started to think of it as a costume that helped him play the role his father — and his country — needed him to play.

Hugh stepped out into the oppressive humidity and squinted in the bright light.

“Mr. Chang, congratulations on your engagement!”

“Hugh, when is Amanda coming?”

“When is the wedding? Will it be here in Catijia?”

He heard the clamoring crowd before his eyes could adjust. His father’s driver, Jian, rushed to his side and gripped Hugh’s elbow as reporters and fans charged. Jian urgently ushered him toward the long, sleek limo waiting in the street. Hugh resisted the urge to duck down to avoid the cameras, and instead put on his best smile and walked forward. He nearly leaped in the limo, giving an awkward wave behind his back as Jian slammed the door shut.

Suddenly, he was enveloped in black leather seats and cool air conditioning, and the chaos of the crowd reduced to a low murmur. Hugh sighed and slouched into his seat. His father was browsing on his phone next to him. Hugh grabbed a sweating bottle of water and pulled out his phone as well, hoping to avoid conversation and enjoy a few moments of relative silence. Unfortunately, his father was in the mood to talk.

“The superstar has arrived! Exciting crowd, eh?”

Hugh took a deep breath, ready to admit that the “exciting crowd” was stressing the fuck out of him. But before he could speak, his father continued.

“Your mother and I are really looking forward to seeing Amanda this weekend. Now that your engagement is public news, I hope she’ll spend more time here before the wedding.”

“Hm,” Hugh said.

“And now that they’ve finally finished airing that show, you two won’t have to worry about keeping your engagement secret anymore.”

Hugh nodded.

“Miles tells me our stock has gone up by six percent overnight. The engagement is looking really good to investors — like you’re ready to settle down and take over Softchip. No more Hugh Chang, the lonesome bachelor.” Enrique chuckled.

Hugh squirmed. Of course his father would be obsessing about the wedding, as if that would solve all their problems. Even if the whole company were burning to the ground, he’d only care about finding a way to make Softchip look good.

“Here, let’s take a father-son photo.”

“Dad, I really don’t want to —”

Enrique was already holding his phone out for a selfie. “Smile, son!”

Hugh obliged and showed his teeth.

His father disappeared into his phone. A moment later, Hugh’s own phone pinged with a new tagged photo. His father looked even older in the photo than he did in person, and Hugh looked like he was trying to hold in pee. Nevertheless, his father had effusively hashtagged the photo as “#NewlyEngaged” and “#SoBlessed.”

“Dad, people are going to think you and I are engaged.”

“What?” Enrique squinted at his phone. “Why would anybody think I’m engaged to my son?”

Hugh sighed. At this point, so many ridiculous rumors had circulated about him that he couldn’t be bothered.

I recall writing this part of the scene as well, but I’m sure you punched it some here and there.

Hugh spotted the rows of palm trees that marked Softchip’s circular VIP entrance and sighed. If he could make it the twenty meters across the next crowd of paparazzi waiting for him, he could finally have a free, quiet morning to sit quietly in his office, peel off his suit jacket, and do his job. His real job, that is. Engineering — especially code — was a form of stress relief for Hugh, even when the stakes were high. Code was dispassionate. It either worked, or it didn’t; there was no gray area. The code didn’t care that Hugh’s father was the most influential man in the country. The code didn’t try to work better because it had seen Hugh on The Catch and was hoping to grab a selfie later. The code never pretended, or changed its mind, or made fun of you behind your back. When the code worked, it was because Hugh made it happen out of his own volition and aptitude.

Ok, this is one of the parts you wrote that I love. Anthropomorphizing “the code” makes this paragraph so much fun.

But when he saw another small pack of paparazzi waiting for him outside the building, the pressure behind his eyes came back. Hugh looked around, but it was too late — he’d already been spotted.

Hugh sighed deeply. There was no avoiding it; might as well get it over with. He held his hands up as the paparazzi ran toward him. He blinked as a flash blinded him. “Excuse me, sorry, I have to work.” He tried his best to smile, but it probably looked more like the grimace his father had just posted.

He heard his father behind him chuckling loudly, and gritted his teeth. “We are all thrilled about the engagement,” Enrique announced. “We look forward to celebrating with Amanda when she arrives this weekend!”

Hugh pushed through the pack of people toward the huge Softchip logo that announced the entrance to the building. As he stepped inside, his breath came out in a rush. The front desk people stood to greet Hugh and his father as the door clicked behind them. Ever since he was a kid, he’d found it strange that everyone at Softchip treated him like royalty.

As Hugh turned toward the engineering wing, he passed Softchip’s head of PR, Judi Deng, rushing toward them. She paused to give Hugh a hurried bow, then jogged past him to catch up with his father.

“Sir, may I have a moment? It’s about your latest Instagram post...”

You added this part at the end with Judi Deng as well, which I love!

This scene also went through a few rounds of revisions. We got some suggestions from our local writing group, critique partners, and agent, and it was critiqued in a workshop at Breakthrough Writers. I love how it turned out and think it does a great job showcasing our voices working together to create one seamless scene.