by David Niall Wilson

I’ve seen a lot of posts here about collaboration, but I thought I’d share something a little more personal this time. One of my longest standing collaborative relationships is with author Brian A. Hopkins, who I’ve worked with time and again to wonderful results. This essay is slanted toward a single piece we wrote together, but shows the process is a more detailed fashion than my earlier piece on collaboration.

I have written and worked with Brian for years, but if I had to choose a single instance where the work typified the blend of his style, and mine, it would have to be the story Virtue’s Mask. We’ve bonded over many a fine bit of prose in the past, the La Belle Dame stories, which I am certain have not seen their end, “Another Mile,” “A Poem of Adrian Gray,” two stories (so far) about a Scary Cowboy with a weird Eye – “One-Eyed Jack,” and “Once Chance in Hell,” and some others we have tossed about, worked over, not finished and shelved. Who knows what will be the end of it all? The point is, on “Virtue’s Mask,” the shades of our selves we blend into the fiction were more apparent than normal.

In my own writing, until recently, anyway, the word research is four letters long and hated. I have always figured if I could write around a detail, I could avoid looking it up. If I got it wrong, but did so very skillfully, no one would really notice. I’m here to tell you – Brian would notice. He would also rewrite it, fix it, and lecture me on the nuances of every intriguing detail I’d missed. If I let him.

There are a couple of aspects that are the core of “Virtue’s Mask.” One is a society so anal and repressed sexually, due to a fear of disease and governmental control, that physical contact is virtually unknown. The other is the instinct within a man that would make him willing to risk life itself to know that intimacy. I can both anticipate that sort of horror growing from within our own society, though possibly not to that extent – and feel the pain of that man.

We made the man a musician. I don’t remember which of us made that choice, but I believe it was Brian. He and I both attack the theme of musical creativity often, though I repeat it more than he does. I don’t know Brian’s musical background. I played in bad bands, sang through a lot of chemically induced nights and got lost in parking lots at concerts for years. I have written lyrics that have never been sung, have performed in ski-lodges in Spain and Karaoke clubs in Long Beach – I love music, and somehow it sticks to my writing like last weeks lumpy potatoes to my guts.

Anyway, the protagonist is a musician, and he uses his creativity to lash out. I brought in Alice Cooper. Brian brought in more research. We batted it back and forth a bit, getting our boy closer and closer to both death – and his physical “encounter.” We dug ditches and tossed him in. We wrote him – and ourselves – into a predicament that nearly stopped us cold. In fact, if I’d been writing it myself (which I wouldn’t have) – I would have had to backtrack and start over from some point where escape was possible. We needed a POINT to it all, a reason for what happened.

I will now tell you the point of this diatribe. Brian did NOT back up. Brian researched. He thought, and damned if he didn’t come up with a rare variant of the critter known as a “vole,” living in some small part of the southwest (I believe) that had a certain gene, that MIGHT if you pushed and stretched and cajoled it into place, fill what we had left as a gaping plot hole and create something very, very cool. I think that is what happened.

Brian does the research that brings us credibility. I don’t know what I ad…mood? A different twist on the characters? I think authors tend to write themselves into a few of their characters each time they write. Brian and I are BOTH in some of these . . . and that was a strange ride, all on its own.

I won’t go into the sordid history that led to this piece FINALLY seeing publication, but I will voice my opinion that it is about time it got wider readership and a chance to be seen. I will also voice my thanks to Brian. I learn something every time we work together, and for all the constant banter and rewriting, the words grow in strength. It is and always has been about the words.

DNW

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This entry was posted on Monday, May 1st, 2006 at 4:09 pm.
Categories: collaboration.

5 Comments, Comment or Ping

  1. Janet Berliner

    Don’t know who failed to post, but I’m glad you did. Thank you. Next time, please provide a link to the story. Janet

  2. Sully

    What kind of a divide do you have on the actual wordsmything, if I may ask. There’s the rub. In another world and in another context, a sage once said to me, as we sat in some noisome restaurant in Tempe, Arizona, that the only way to collaborate is to have clear divisions between the collaborators. I can see words and music working out, invent and market, show and substance, but where do you and Brian put the boundary? Is it purely style vs. substance? Is the prose a mutual task, alternating scenes, paragraphs, WORDS?!!! Not something I could do. Good or bad, control over one’s output seems essential to me. Never understood how a master painter could just turn the brush over to an apprentice. Takes more maturity than I have, and maybe want. Think I’ll write a short story about a man who turns down a chance to collaborate with GOD!!!
    – Sully

  3. Mark Rainey

    Collaborating can be a strange animal. I’ve done two novels with Elizabeth Massie; in both, we had two main characters that we followed, mostly alternating chapters. She essentially wrote one character and I wrote the other. On one book, I did most of the plotting (but with lots of input from her) and on the other, she did most of the plotting. Our styles complemented each other quite well, I believe.

    A couple of the other collaborations I’ve done (one with Durant Haire and one with John Pelan, both short stories) were closer to ghost-writing for me than true collaborations. The other authors essentially plotted the tales, and I did the actual writing. I’ve rather enjoyed this as well.

    Still, I don’t have a burning drive to collaborate with anyone. Most of the time, I’m a lot more comfortable when I’m at the steering wheel from start to finish.

    –M

  4. Janet Berliner

    Oops. See what rising heat does to my brain cells. R reminded me that it IS your day.

    I think the readers here have already heard too much from me about collaboration. :)

    –J.

  5. David Niall Wilson

    This time I was trying to cover more of the actualy synthesis…the DOING of this one particular story.

    Sully, Brian and I are both control freaks. Literally, we have done stories where one of us will go from beginning to end and make changes, and the other will go back and put almost all the changes back, hoping it won’t be noticed…we back and forth until it feels right, or until we just can’t stand the story any longer (lol) I honestly believe it is nearly always stronger for the effort…but choosing which STORIES we are willing to share has been difficult. This one - Virtue’s Mask - was Brian’s story idea from the start…

    D

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