I’m like Daredevil, but prettier.
What’s more cliché than a blind martial artist with a career in mind-reading?
I’m a self-diagnosed Mary-Sue who wrote half a book by accident. Fortunately, the other half was written by my best friend, Galadriel.
Ok, second best friend. See that gorgeous girl next to me? That’s Greta, my Seeing Eye partner. She’s been with me since 2016.
I grew up in Oregon, studied communication and kung fu in Alabama, and got married at the US Space and Rocket Center. What goes better with a wedding dress than a space shuttle in the background?
By God’s grace I’ve had the privilege of indulging every single one of my dreams, from space exploration to counseling. The thing about dreams, though, is they keep growing. Fortunately, God’s gifts are limitless.
I might secretly be a dragon.
Either that or a Victorian lady misplaced in time due to magical shenanigans. Or a Victorian dragon? I can be both, right?
I’ve had practice being a little bit of everything, in any case. Writer, illustrator, freelance artist, high school teacher, college tutor, missionary to Japan, underpaid wrangler of small children…I’m sure I’m missing a few things in there.
I’ve been writing novels all my life, but I never thought I’d co-write any until 2013, when Anneliese and I sat down to play a game and accidentally wrote a book instead. (By the way, I contest Greta’s claim to being Anneliese’s best friend. She may have been with Anneliese since 2016, but I’ve been around since 2006, so there.)
God’s granted me such amazing opportunities to balance all my passions: I always expected I’d have to pick between writing, artwork, and teaching, but instead I’ve been able to pursue them all, as well as finding time to study linguistics, learn sewing, and do lots of cosplaying. As the Psalmist says, “the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.”
Anneliese and Galadriel have been co-writing stories for many years in the form of text-based roleplaying games. One of us invents a character and introduces the story; the other replies from the perspective of a second point of view character. We go from there, taking turns adding to the story and the world.
Most of the time, we jump in without any plan and simply have fun building off each other’s ideas and trying to “out-chaos” each other. Occasionally, a pair of characters really catch our interest, at which point we create an outline and develop the game into a full-fledged novel. Or an entire series, in the case of Wren and Kelta.
Once we finish playing our initial game, Galadriel copies the chat logs into a document, does some rough formatting, and smooths out any unclear or hastily written sections. Then Anneliese does a runthrough to make sure the characters’ voices are consistent and to help merge our different writing styles into one. After that, we continue taking turns editing as necessary until we’re both satisfied with the draft.
Here’s a glimpse of our process, taken from the very first game we played with Kelta and Wren way back in 2013. A lot of things have changed in the story since then, starting with the fact that our heroes don’t yet know each other at the beginning of the series, but this little exchange marked the start of years of writing and worldbuilding together, with lots more still to come.
Galadriel: let’s have some ships
Anneliese: yes, let’s
how would you like your ships to come about?
Galadriel: oh, I’m not terribly particular
come about three points to larboard, that should do it
Anneliese: aye, sir! we’re cutting it awfully close to the rocks, sir…
Galadriel: Indeed. Carry on.
Anneliese: aye sir… -glances sidelong at second mate-
Galadriel: Wren Elspur smiled lazily at the exchange of looks. Half his crew was new, taken on at last port after that nasty business with the Poravian man’o’war. He must seem a right useless dandy to them. But they’d come round. “Another point larboard after we pass that rock,” he said.
Anneliese: Kelta exhaled a little. Turning the tail a little, that’s all. She’d sailed with Wren too long to consciously doubt him, but every so often he could still get her blood pressure up. She flicked her wrist on the tiller, just a twitch, and they settled in. Kelta could practically feel a breeze from all the exhaled breaths over the deck. Quart, the second, unclenched his hands and swore under his breath. Kelta thought she heard the word “dragon-madness” but she said nothing as yet. Time was, she’d’ve lost her temper for even thinking she’d heard someone suggest that about her captain, but in theory she’d steadied out quite nicely these last couple of years.
They spat out of the narrow channel into a wide bay and Kelta called for a sounding to be taken at increasing intervals.
Galadriel: “Quart, the deck’s yours,” said Wren. “Hold course for the far shore, keep under three knots and continue sounding. Kelta.” He jerked his chin toward the cabin.
Anneliese: Kelta didn’t let go the tiller until Quart’s hands were firmly on it. Then she pulled away and flexed her stiff knuckles, rubbing them vigorously. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been gripping the polished wood, and in this wind the cold hardened them even more. Puffing a wisp of bright-gold hair out of her face, she followed Wren to his cabin.
Galadriel: He flung himself down behind his tiny desk and laughed. “How many pissed themselves?” he asked.
Anneliese: “Oh, only about half the rookies.” Kelta grinned. “But that’s because the others were clinging to their prayer crystals. You enjoy doing that too much.” Not that she didn’t enjoy watching it, herself. Even if she did still tense up a little.
Galadriel Coffeen 