Some things are easy to share. 

Things like good news, opinions, tortilla chips, and jokes. 

Other things, though, aren’t so easy to portion out in evenly sized pieces. And certainly not so easy to give up control over.

For example? Bad news, chocolate bars, and creativity.

There are lots of different ways for authors to collaborate. Some of them are the creative equivalent of a handshake, others have as many entanglements as any marriage. The reason they are on my mind is because I’ve just announced Bad, Dad, and Dangerous, an anthology I’m in along with Rhys Ford, Jenn Moffatt, and Bru Baker. That’s one form of collaboration, but it is kind of the ‘I’ve cleaned out a drawer’ level. You know? 

In this case it was a lot of fun. All of the authors involved are friends of mine and we interacted extensively throughout the process. From the initial concept to the cover art, we had input and, some, say in all of it. However, there have been other anthologies I’ve been in where my only contact was with the editor. Plus, other than the initiating prompt, everyone has control over what they write from start to finish.

The next step up — in my opinion — is a shared world collaboration. This is similar to the anthology, within pre-agreed confines you have control of the story you write. However, you have to keep in closer contact with other authors. Characters and locations are shared and, like all shared things, you have to take care of them. If someone has been building up the Lord High Warden of the Dark Reaches to be a protagonist in their Book Three, they’ll be peeved if you stab him to death to make your MC look bad-ass. As for you, you’ll be annoyed if they immediately revive him and undo your planned for redemption arc where your MC resurrects the Warden.

So it does require some compromise and negotiation. Still, shared worlds are more about framework and flavour, with each author still the small god of their plot world. Maybe you need to negotiate whether or not your MC can be the town’s new Turkish barber, and take over the non-franchise coffee shop. The fact you want him to be a murderer, who finds out he was framed due to his narcolepsy and then falls in love with the Sheriff is done to you.

…Well. Actually the Sheriff would probably be one of the foundational characters that weren’t to be touched, or touched up, without permission. So. Deputy.

That brings us to actual, honest-to-god co-authorship. C.S. Poe recently did this with Gregory Ashe in A Friend in the Dark, the first book in a new series. They’ve talked a little bit about their process over the last few weeks and they basically just went in there and touched all of each other’s words.

OK, it was a little more complicated than that, but you can go and check that out from them.

Co-authorship means you have to agree to every, single plot point and character beat with your fellow author. Sure, you might be the only one writing Harry Drysdale, baker and detective, but if you throw in Harry killing a man with a scone…co-author can pull that up for a performance review.

I would do so badly at this? I am not good at giving up control of anything, never mind my terrible, gory brain children. Either the co-authorship would end in fire and blood, or my co-author would wake up one morning and find I’d finished the book in a burst of control freak productivity. I have never thrived in any sort of joined responsibility project. It always ends in tears. If you an do it, though, it can be both creatively and professionally beneficial. I mean, sometimes it is good to have that person who’ll come up to you and say, ‘A scone?!?’.

In fact, there are a lot of benefits to authorial collaboration. For a start, it’s 2020. Any sort of social interaction is a good thing. On a more business level, it give each other a chance to penetrate the other’s market and make reach readers they hadn’t before. The old ‘huh, was never sure I’d like Doe, but Joe is auto-buy’ calculations. It can also allow authors to produce books faster, which can really impact sales. After all, if you’ve bought every book in the Lavender and Laurel series, that gives the next book with that imprint a foot up over any unconnected book. There’s a lot of us completionists out there.

That doesn’t mean it will be beneficial to you. Look at the various levels of collaboration and decide which, if any, works for you. Make sure that you trust any author you get into creative bed with. If the relationship isn’t rock solid it can really blow back on everyone concerned. Oh, and contracts. Get a contract. No. I don’t care you’ve known Other Author since tadpoles had horns…contracts. Everything needs to be written down in black and white, because it protects both of you.

If you’ve spent however long working with this imaginary person, the last thing you want is for dissolving your partnership to mean dissolving your friendship. In Bad, Dad, and Dangerous, I knew that wouldn’t happen because the other authors were good friends, they frequently let me have my way, and we had a contract with everything laid out in black and white.

That’s why we’re all STILL friends. Well, and the fact that I, at least, am a fecking delight!