How to Co-Author a Book with Your Spouse and Not Lose Your Minds, or Your Marriage

When people discover that Michael and I co-author books together, the reactions split fairly predicably between two camps:

1. those who think it sounds absolutely romantic, and
2. those who think we're masochists who voluntarily signed up for relationship counseling with a side of public humiliation.

After ten years, two published novels, and innumerable blog posts written together? I have to admit that both groups are absolutely right.

Co-authoring with your spouse is like renovating your kitchen together. Except, the kitchen is made of words, the blueprints keep changing, and you both have very strong opinions about whether that metaphor in chapter sevenis “brilliantly subtle” or "completely overwrought.” It’s always an endeavor fraught with peril, simultaneously the most rewarding and challenging creative task we have ever undertaken. Honestly, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything, though there have been times when I’ve seriously considered hiding my laptop. Or his.

The Joys: Two Minds Making Magic, Together

Let's start with the good stuff, because when co-authoring clicks, it is pure magic. Michael and I are polar opposites in many ways. We do not think alike. Our ways of working through things can be incomprehensible to the other. Our speech habits differ widely. Even so, somehow we developed a “creative shorthand” that helps us to finish each other's plot points. We are able to build on each other’s ideas in ways that have surprised and delighted us. There’s something incredibly intimate and bonding about building worlds together. We are literally creating beauty and wonder out of nothing but our imaginations while curled up next to each other on the couch.

"Let There Be Light"

The brainstorming sessions are where we truly shine. One of us will throw out a random “what if” scenario. Before we know it we’re hours into mapping out character backstories and plot twists that neither of us could have conceived alone. It’s like having a permanent writing group member living with you, but this one actually cares about your project. They aren't just waiting for their turn to pitch their own story about vampire accountants.

Better accountability is another huge benefit. When you’re writing alone, it’s easy to convince yourself that researching medieval castles for six hours counts as “working on your book.” But that’s difficult with your spouse sitting there across from you, working hard on that shared deadline while you’re fruitlessly deep-diving on Wikipedia.

We’ve also discovered that our different strengths complement each other in ways we originally had not expected. I’m the dialogue person—I can write conversation all day long and love getting into characters’ heads. Michael excels at world-building and action sequences, creating vivid settings and heart-pounding scenes that almost make me forget I was in on the planning of them. Together, we co-author more well-rounded stories than either of us could have produced on our own.

Co-Author Pitfalls: Meet the Bickersons!

I wan to be honest about the challenges, because they are real and at times, hair-raising. The first major hurdle was learning to separate creative criticism from personal criticism. We had to find a way to teach ourselves how NOT to take critiques personally.

Why? Imagine a conversation with your spouse where they suggest that your favorite character is “a bit one-dimensional.” That is going to hit differently, and more deeply, than when a critique partner says it. Suddenly you find that you’re not just defending your writing choices. Your entire creative soul is on the line, and you’re having to defend it to the person who’s supposed to love and support you unconditionally.

We have had some epic arguments about important stuff. And I have to admit, some pretty stupid stuff, too. I once spent an hour passionately defending why a character drinks coffee instead of tea. Michael argued that tea better reflected the character's personality. To an outside observer, we probably looked completely unhinged, and at times we probably were. But when you’re deeply invested in the story, every choice feels monumental.

The editing process can be particularly treacherous. We both have strong opinions about our prose—not to mention each other’s prose. Watching your spouse casually delete entire paragraphs you’ve been laboring over for hours can feel like they’re carving into your very soul. Learning to “kill our darlings” is hard enough without watching someone else wield the knife!

Then there’s the challenge of finding your “unified voice.” Michael’s writing style is quite distinct from mine. Blending our voices into something cohesive takes time, repetition, and patience. We wrote together for years before we developed a natural flow that sounded like neither of us individually, but somehow still felt authentically “us.”

Co-Author Logistics: Working It, Day-to-Day

Practically speaking, co-authoring with your spouse will require some division of labor, and serious organizational skills. After years of trying different things, we’ve learned to use shared documents. And we back them up into a repository with software like Git so we don’t lose anything. I’ve pushed him into using detailed outlines so neither of us strays off into spur-of-the-moment scene improvisation. We use highlighting in documents to show where an edit needs the other spouse’s approval, or discussion.

After the first draft is done, the initial edits fall to me. And while I’m handling that, he’s working on cover art or promotional material for social media.

When we write, we’re often doing so at the same time, side-by-side on our couch. But, separate work spaces and times are going to work better for some couples. Random exclamations of excitement or snorts of disgust are the kinds of things you have to learn to keep to yourself with your spouse working on a different scene right next to you.

We've also had to establish some ground rules:

• Try hard not to take things personally (see above).
• No major plot changes without discussion.
• No deleting the other person’s work without asking first.
• Find something positive to say before the critique begins.
• Device notifications are turned down, if not OFF, during working hours.

Another thing that’s worth more than a bullet point: Trust your internal rhythms, and your spouse’s. A “down day” could come from illness, lack of sleep, depression, or looming burn-out. Whatever the cause, it’s your body telling you that you need a day away from the keyboard. Take it. Do something else that refreshes your body and your soul. Experience has taught us that down days are not good days for creative output, anyway. Go for the recharge instead. When you get back to the keyboard, you’ll be glad you did.

The Verdict on Co-Authoring? Worth Every Crazy, Chaotic Moment

Despite the challenges, or even because of them, co-authoring with Michael has enriched our marriage and our creative lives. We’ve learned to communicate more effectively and compromise creatively. We've also discovered that we can trust each other’s instincts even when we don’t initially understand them. I know he’s got my back even when he’s not agreeing with me. He knows I’ve got his, too.

Our books are stronger for having two perspectives. Two sets of experiences. Two different approaches to storytelling. More importantly, what we’ve created is entirely ours. Not just the finished product, but each and every journey we’ve undertaken to get it done.

Would I recommend co-authoring to other couples? Absolutely, but with a major caveat: Make sure you genuinely enjoy working together before you commit to a book-length project. And a bit of advice: Start small. Maybe collaborate on a short story or write alternating chapters of fan fiction. Test the waters before diving into the deep end.

Whether your book becomes a bestseller or remains a cherished manuscript in your desk drawer, you’ll have shared one of the most intimate creative experiences you can have with all your clothes on. You will have built worlds, given life to characters, and had unique and exciting experiences with them. You'll have navigated the beautiful, wild chaos of creation as a team.

Just, get separate laptops. Trust me on this one.