I sometimes forget there are two names on most of the books I sell. In fact, it's so normal for me to see "Sean Platt" beside my name that I never realize the idea of a two-author book is unusual for readers.

I wasn't always so accepting of co-authorship. I'm a huge Stephen King fan, but until I became a writer myself, I regarded The Talisman with suspicion because "Peter Straub" was on its cover with him. What was I to make of that? How could two authors write a book? I thought book-writing was a solitary thing: one story birthed from one mind. How would a dual situation even work?

Then I met Sean, and he said, "Let's write that ridiculous Unicorn Western idea together." I was just as wary as I'd been of The Talisman at first, but then Sean proposed something that felt infinitely do-able to me: He'd invent a world and suggest a few "beats" that the story could hit as it unfolded, after which I'd absorb the information and write the book just like I'd write any other.

That sounded good to me, because coming up with the initial grounding for a story had always been my weak spot. It took me years to write The Bialy Pimps because after I told the exaggerated stories of the real-life situations and people that inspired me to write it (which was easy), I still had to create an actual plot (which was hard). The first half of Fat Vampire was easy (because everyone knows what happens when a fictional person becomes a vampire), but the second half, again, was tricky (because after Reginald figured out his vampire stuff, what came next?). And that doesn't even include the many in-between failed books that I'd started strong but that went exactly nowhere.

Sean, however, had given me enough of a framework that all I needed to do was to tell the story. I wrote Unicorn Western start to finish on my own -- a way of working that was comfortable to me. But I was only able to do it (and to do it in a way that included so many cool in-world elements) because Sean did the groundwork well ahead of time that I always did poorly.

As Sean and I wrote more and more projects together (how could we not, when it worked so well and made writing so fun and easy?), we developed a collaborative rhythm:

1. Sean would create world elements, characters, settings, and some beats that I was free to ignore if the muse struck me, which I often did.
2. We'd meet to discuss the world (less the book than the world it lived in) before I began. I liked to quiz Sean at this phase, asking him questions about what he'd given me as if it was all real. My speciality was pointing out potential logical flaws and consequences we hadn't considered yet. So for instance, in The Beam, Sean had given me two political parties: Directorate and Enterprise. But if our characters had to pick one and stick with it, my "consequences" question was: Could people ever change, or where they stuck forever? Logically, that seemed a bit much. So, working together, we invented Shift -- a big political to-do wherein people could change allegiances if they wished. Shift became a HUGE part of The Beam's power dynamics and a big plot driver, and it -- like so much of our work -- couldn't have existed without both of us.
3. I'd start writing. Sean usually tried to read my pages within a few days, staying close behind me.
4. Regularly, we'd meet to discuss new stuff I'd invented and tangents I'd taken, so the old and new ideas could mesh together. We'd hack problems. Often, Sean would give me some new beats for the next section, or sometimes not. Eventually we started recording our sometimes-hour-long calls so I could listen back and pull out good nuggets later on. (I'm still smarting from the time we came up with a great set of ideas for "Chantal on the moon" in the final Robot Proletariat book ... then couldn't remember them because we'd forgotten to record.)
5. During the creation phase (step 1), Sean was in charge. During the writing phase (step 3), I was. That's why it worked -- because we were never truly sharing the wheel. I took Sean's "world documents" as real and true explanations of the world that I wasn't to mess with, and Sean never ever told me what to write while I was drafting. In each "working" phases of the project, each of our books WAS the work of a solo author. The times we met to discuss, though? That was where the real collaboration began, and after those meetings each of us trusted the other to take over the reins and remix what we'd developed, solo all over again.
6. In that way -- sometimes with more check-ins and mid-story adjustments and sometimes with fewer or none -- I'd finish the first draft.
7. Then Sean would go through and edit and polish it, making it shine.

I'm sure other authors have written this way, but I've never known any. Sean and his other main collaborator David W. Wright, for instance, sometimes write books in pieces: Sean will fully write some chapters and Dave will fully write others. I think that might be more typical. Sean's and my "each has their turn to be in charge" way of doing things was perfect for me, though: like having my independence cake and eating collaboration too. Knowing my personality, it was the only way I'd ever be able to write with anyone.

Right now, I'm working on a solo project. It's not because Sean and I are done writing together. Far from it, actually, if I have my say. It's partially because Sean has his hands full with other things, but it's more because I feel the need to figure out how to do the whole damn thing alone -- not because I prefer it, but because it just seems like it's a skill I should have. (It's sort of like how my kids can get a car tire changed if it goes flat ... but only because they can ask me to do it. I haven't yet taught them to do it on their own, but they really need to know, just in case.)

My solo efforts are not easy. In fact, I'm having to figure out how to even write this way, seeing as it was never natural. More importantly, it's nowhere near as fun as it is writing with Sean. When we were really firing on all cylinders, you wouldn't believe how easy and fast and fun writing was. It took no effort at all. Now, because I'm having to figure things out, it's more like actual work. I'm sure it'll GET easy and fun ... but I'm sure it won't be AS fun, and it's not there yet.

Let's just say that I miss it, seeing as Sean and I haven't had a chance to write together for almost two years now. We're due. OVERdue. Lucky for us, we've got a project or two on the docket for this year.

But yeah, I forget that there are even two authors on the books I sell. It feels as if there's only one, because we really do combine into a Voltron-like third mind when we write together. Maybe you've forgotten too, if you've been with me (or us) for a while. I honestly never think to ask and never think to explain. I assume it's as normal for readers as it is for me, when chances are it's not.

But if you have been with ME for a while, chances are you've also been with US because only a handful of books in my catalog were written solo. Chances are, even though you're getting these emails from ME, you've likely been reading SEAN for years, too.

I mean, Gore Point (which just finished its series run on Kickstarter) was written by both of us. The science and explanations and logical connections come from me ... but rifts, Legions, Stitchers, and the whole idea of Fortune's world came directly from Sean.

It's a really cool way of working -- a way I'm learning, now that we've had a hiatus, that I truly miss.

So, you know ... more of that soon, yes? :)

(Oh, and by the way, I should mention that before Sean and I even met, he and Dave had made a huge splash with their bestselling series Yesterday's Gone ... and that right now, Yesterday's Gone is the subject of a special edition on Kickstarter. If you're a Kickstarter sort of person, I suggest checking it out.)

-Johnny