Stonewycke

We invited Judith to dinner. (Raviolis became a tradition of the partnership.) During dinner I asked, “How would you like to co-write a book?”

She was stunned at first, but eager to give it a try. The three of us brainstormed a little further on the Scottish idea Judy and I had been developing. We got together often over the next weeks. I gradually explained my vision for fiction, shared with Judith my methods and techniques and what I had learned about the craft of novel writing. Then we started writing together. It wasn’t long before we were piling up pages of a manuscript, working separately then passing off pages to the other, back and forth, getting together again for raviolis, the three of us talking and brainstorming excitedly.

It was a magical time. Judith and I learned to craft novels together, gradually discovering our individual strengths, weaknesses, preferences, and dovetailing our working methods to fit them. We were almost always enthusiastic about the other’s ideas, never quarreled, and had great fun watching our stories grow.

It was one of those partnerships that “clicked.” We were full of ideas and energy and vision to be doing what we loved, and esteemed one another with the mutual respect of friends.

By the time we were ready to send in our first completed manuscript, all three of us secretly felt that we just might have produced something special.

Bethany enthusiastically offered us a three book contract, and the Phillips/Pella partnership had begun.

The two Judys and I eventually produced fourteen novels together. I still look back on those days with great fondness as among the most enjoyable years of my writing career. I loved co-writing, and could not have had a more congenial, talented, hard-working, and dedicated writing partner, who felt the same rhythms and heard the same “writing music,” than our dear friend Judith Pella.