So, I’m writing a book with my best friend.
That’s it. That’s what I have come here to say.
I think we both realize how important it is for the two of us to be held accountable to deadlines (because, honestly, we are two of the biggest procrastinating potatoes who do their best work under the pressure of possible death by supernatural force). So, I have decided to document what the process of co-authoring a book is and write down our progress, because maybe one day these posts will get critically analyzed by fourteen year olds in a sophomore English class looking for the symbolism behind the dragon poster we kept throwing into scenes. Look, kids, there is no symbolism, Jessica and I just really like dragons and we are lazy AF, so we don’t like to add in new details. Don’t let your English teachers destroy your sanity by asking if it was meant to be a nod to all the greater authors before us who shaped our writing abilities and also taught us to destroy capitalism and live like magic. Wow, okay, maybe that is why. So, there’s your answer. Write that down for your AP test.
ANYWAY, here is a quick rundown of what we are doing and what the planning process has been like for us.
To start, we were both probably drunk when we decided to write a book together, and also pretty sad and wallowing in self-pity. We had just found out we wouldn’t be working together for the next year and were sobbing on the floor of our shared office while a Harry Potter ASMR played in the background with a framed picture of ABBA hanging over us. It was intense. We had taken so many classes together since our freshmen year of college, but it wasn’t until our graduate nonfiction class that we truly bonded. Albeit, we bonded over how little we actually did, and would turn into our alter egos to distract people from asking us any questions about the required reading, but whatever, it’s still bonding. In that class, we not only saw how similar our writing styles and humor was, but I’d like to think the cosmos had clashed and brought together two people too powerful conjoined, but also a perfect force—like Gaiman and Pratchett.
The book is our way to always stay in each other’s lives and to force ourselves to continue with our art.
In a small shop, tucked away on a street in Flagstaff, Arizona where college students are too oblivious to venture out to, we sat drinking dirty chais and butterbrew tea. Within two hours, we had planned out our story. Sort of.
Our genre is Young Adult. Each of us would take a primary character to represent in first person, alternating perspectives each chapter. We will follow the whimsy of a last summer into the terrifying newness of the first semester of college. There will be dysfunctional families. There will be self-deprecating jokes. There will be windmills. There will be dancing. There will be Beyoncé and there will be the Gays. There will be us and there will be lives we wished we had manifested.
Have we already envisioned our book tour? Yes. Have we thought of how we will spend our first checks? Yup (goats, tiny homes, and gin).
Look out for us in 2020, because along with the fantasy of our characters, we also created a strict deadline for this project to grow and finish. At the moment, we have chosen to outline our schedule through the mega tech force that is google, but also a lot of our writing will be hidden away in journals with hilariously unironic titles like these. We have a character map so we can keep track of how close each of our own minor characters are to our main and if there is any way ours might come across the others. We have family tress along with histories and context behind character traits.
I promise to update you all on the writing we do, the systems we create to piece everything together, and our own tips for building characters and stories from our own experiences.
Get our journals here: