Guest Post by Elyse Douglas authors of 'The Christmas Bridge'

Co-Writing a Novel with My Spouse
or Carnival Fun
by Elyse Douglas

There’s no easy way to say it:  writing a novel by oneself is a challenge, laden with speed bumps, sink holes, rampant insecurities, sleepless nights and seemingly miles and miles of blank white paper that stretches out to infinity in all directions, just waiting—no—taunting you to write down even one readable, articulate sentence, just so you can tell all your friends and family that you are working on your novel and making fine progress on it.  They, of course, can’t wait until it’s completed, even though upon its completion, they will never quite find the time to get past…oh say, the first chapter.  You know, that’s the chapter where girl is still trying to meet boy, but she doesn’t meet boy until the third chapter.

Now, co-writing a novel is a humbling and intimidating experience—dangerous to one’s ego.  One writer may excel at prose, one with characterization, the other with dialogue.  One may have a good writing day while the other is having one of the worst creative days of his/her life.  One works best during the day, the other at night.  One must eat constantly, chocolate bars or donuts, while the other is dieting and is slowing growing to hate and despise the partner, because said partner writes with such ease and eats with such ease, and never gains weight with such ease, and never, ever would split an infinitive, much less a jelly donut.

However, co-writing a novel with a spouse is a little like attending a carnival.  There’s the Ferris wheel, where you often get stuck right at the very top of the thing, feet dangling precariously; there’s the fun house with its cackling witches, mocking ghosts and ghoulish creatures reaching and leaping out at you from eerie shadows; there’s the roller coaster where you’re flung about like a rag doll and sent plunging down, only to be jerked up and pitched headlong, screaming for mercy, along a shaky track that disappears into a dark, foggy tunnel.

And who can forget the shooting gallery, where that poor little rabbit darts back and forth in hare-wringing despair, running for cover, while some bloke just keeps taking potshots at him. 

Co-writing a novel with a spouse reminds me of the line “fools rush in where angels fear to tread”, first written by Alexander Pope in his poem An Essay on Criticism (1709).

Having said that, my husband, Doug, and I often find ourselves paying the admission and entering the chaotic and amusing world of the carnival (the novel).  We buy some cotton candy and popcorn and we start off on our little adventure.  That adventure is called Let’s Write another Novel.  So we climb aboard the Ferris Wheel and the rollercoaster; spend a few crazy weeks in the fun house—never forgetting to visit the shooting gallery, where we skitter back and forth as we try to run for cover and, finally, eventually, manage to complete all the rides, eat all the cotton candy and popcorn, and complete another novel.

Does this sound negative?  Aren’t amusement parks fun?  Aren’t they a great escape from the real and practical world?  Aren’t the rides, the food, the many attractions and the people-watching great entertainment? 

Doug and I write novels together because we love the process, we love words and we love characters and stories.  We enjoy sharing those stories with ourselves and with others.

When Doug was a boy, he remembers sitting around a campfire listening to stories both recited and read.  That’s when he fell in love with books and tall tales.  Often, when we’re writing a novel, he says he imagines being around that campfire as he’s writing.  I simply fall into the rhythm of the prose, the flow of the dialogue and the pace of the plot.  I often think: “Does this smell right?  Am I being true to this character?”

Doug and I work well together—we’ve being doing it for almost 20 years now.  But there are days when plot, character, prose and pace are just not working.  So we drop it, open a bottle of Pinot Noir or Sauvignon Blanc, cook, go to a movie or put on some music and dance. 

Why not?  Mata Hari is quoted as saying, “The dance is a poem of which each movement is a word.”

Copyright © 2015 by Elyse Douglas