Authors: Lisa Lutz
Table of Contents
ALSO BY LISA LUTZ
The Spellman Files
Curse of the Spellmans
Revenge of the Spellmans
The Spellmans Strike Again
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lutz, Lisa.
Heads you lose / Lisa Lutz and David Hayward.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-48652-8
1. Novelists—Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 3. Authorship—Fiction.
I. Hayward, David, date. II. Title.
PS3612.U897H
813’.6—dc22
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
While the authors have made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the authors assume any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
For Jerry and Linda
EDITOR’S NOTE
Dear Reader:
In the spring of 2009, the
New York Times–
bestselling crime novelist Lisa Lutz decided to collaborate on a murder mystery with a longtime friend (and ex-boyfriend), freelance editor and poet David Hayward.
The practical workings of the collaboration were as follows: Lutz would write the first chapter and all odd-numbered chapters thereafter. Hayward would write the even ones. They would not outline or discuss what they were working on. Each author would read the other’s chapter “blind.” Neither author was allowed to undo a plot development established by the other.
A few details about the presentation of the text warrant explanation: The footnotes within each chapter are comments made by the reading author. The authors also exchanged brief messages when a chapter was completed; these appear at the end of each chapter. The authors’ initial messages to each other about the potential project are presented on the pages immediately following this Editor’s Note.
Lutz told me she saw the project as an experiment, a challenge—a new way of writing that might spur creativity to higher levels. I leave it to you to judge the results.
For reasons that will become obvious, both authors refused to come together to revise their work. I present it to you in its original form. While unorthodox in structure, it is nevertheless a novel. It just happens to tell more stories than either author intended.
Signed,
The Editor
Dave,
I just finished the first chapter of a new novel—a real crime novel with a dead body and all—and I thought of you. And not in the way you might expect.
I’ll cut to the chase: What would you say about making a go of another collaboration? And, no, I have not recently suffered a head injury. There’s just something about this project that makes me feel like two heads might be better than one.
I know what you’re thinking. Yes, our last attempt at collaboration,
The Fop
, was an epic disaster. A monthlong volcano of insults followed by a few years of complete silence qualifies, yes? Sometimes I don’t know how we survived it (not to mention several other battles). But this is, what, thirteen years later? We’re older, wiser, and probably too tired to fight with that level of vigor.
And maybe
The Fop
was doomed from the start. When it came down to writing it in the sober light of day, it might not have been the bulletproof idea it seemed over pitchers of beer at the Kilowatt. The story of a double-agent valet hiding behind the identity of his moronic yet flamboyant master is basically a B-movie version of
Jeeves and Wooster
. (Although, honestly, I still think there’s something there. It just wasn’t our fate to realize the vision.)
More importantly, we were writing that thing in the same room. Facial expressions can ratchet up an already stressful experience. I also think it’s worth mentioning that this was back in your poetry days, and frankly, your touches of poignancy and high-art references were severely out of place in a broadly comic, mainstream undertaking.
Really, I accept equal blame for it. I had no patience and was often quite rude. Let me just offer up an overall mea culpa. But forget about
The Fop
. This is not
The Fop
. This is an as-yet-untitled crime novel that I think has some potential.
Okay, time to address the other elephant in the room. I know you’re still bitter about you-know-what. It’s true, in the very beginning, you helped brainstorm a few character details and offered some valuable footwear consultation. But it was always my screenplay, not a joint venture. And after the brutal struggles over
The Fop
, did you really expect me to ask you to collaborate again? Still, I know you felt betrayed, especially since
The Fop
went nowhere and my solo project got made (even if it did go straight to video). But that’s all in the past. This is my olive branch to you. Maybe I’m a sucker for unfinished business, but I still believe we have some creative symbiosis.
If you’re game, let me know and I’ll send you the first chapter along with a few minor stipulations. If not, no offense taken. I’m sure I can find some other ex-poet interested in slumming it in the world of mainstream fiction.
Best,
Lisa
Lisa,
And hello to you, too. A word or two of personal greeting would have been nice—after all, it’s been a few months since I saw you at Frank’s. But I guess the businesslike approach is part of your strategy for this new project. I think I get it.
And we did almost have something with
The Fop
, didn’t we? Clear away the romantic debris—and maybe the last half-hour of every writing session—and it really might have worked. I still laugh every time I think of the ski lodge scene (after he retrieves the monocle). Can you name a funnier movie sequence in the past decade? I can’t.
But yeah, communication was never our strong suit. For example, the news that you considered
The Fop
a “broadly comic, mainstream undertaking” would have been useful in 1997. If I’d known we were aiming that low, I would have punched up the crotch gags, and maybe the last thirteen years would have gone differently for me. But let’s leave all that in the past. I’m sorry, too.
I had a good laugh about my supposed bitterness over being shut out of your straight-to-video success. (Coincidentally, that’s exactly as many laughs as I experienced watching the film.) A sliver of the money would have been nice, but you’re right: That thing was all yours. I’m happy it led to better things for you. I’m over it. Let’s not mention it again.
I don’t know what your “minor” stipulations might be, but I have only one, and it’s major: If we do this and it sells, we split the money down the middle. Given our history—not to mention your lifelong obsession with butlers and other menservants—I think this can work only if we approach it as equals. I realize you’re the “name” here, but if I didn’t have something you wanted, I figure you wouldn’t be asking me.