Noah had it right. Two by Two. Two elephants, two tigers, two anteaters…and, in our interpretation of this classic, probably two mystery writers.

The number one question we get asked is: how does a collaboration work? Only after we'd written the book did we discover that it's supposed to be hard.

We can give you the general mechanics of finding the right writing partner, but it's like going to Baskin Robbins. You might hit your favorite flavor the first time you sample the wares, or you may have to go through 30 of the 31 offerings before discovering the magic of Jamoca Almond Fudge. Or, and let's be honest, you might realize that you're lactose intolerant and don't want to eat any ice cream.

If you missed the point of that little metaphor, we mean that you might find a writing partner first time out, you might have to speed date your way through several partners before finding the right person, or you might finally conclude that you need to work alone and that partnering isn't your path to best sellerdom.

The mechanics of our collaboration are pretty basic. The only small hitch is that Marian lives in New York and Rhonda is in Oklahoma. We've actually never met in person (when we pick up the Oscar for best screenplay of Murder Off the Books, we plan to go out for coffee afterwards), so our chats about plot, characterization, dialogue, etc. are either a flurry of frantic e-mails or by telephone. Before we begin a book we lay out a broad outline of where we are going and then individually write scenes, mailing them back and forth for revisions.

That sounds pretty informal…and to a certain extent it is. Other collaborators work out different methods of churning out the pages. Other variations? One partner writes a complete first draft and the other rewrites from that. Or if one partner is the name and the other is the "with" of the byline, (John Superstar with Jack Littleknownwriter), the superstar may give a general outline of the plot and the little known writer actually writes the whole thing. Whatever works and satisfies both partners is fine – just don't be a martyr. You have to say what you need, nobody is a mind reader.

Any good advice column ends with a list of suggestions, so here's ours:

1. Laugh or Quit. The most valuable characteristic you can bring to a collaboration is a sense of humor – even if you don't intend to include humor in your book. The writing process can be long, arduous, painful, low-paying, and ego-destructive. If you can't laugh about it, find something else to do.

2. Park your ego at the door. Shocking as it may be, not every word that you write will be deathless prose that would reduce William Shakespeare to tears. Sometimes what you write sucks. Hopefully your writing partner will phrase it nicer than "that sucks," but depending on the day and time of month, tact may be in short supply. Live with it and rewrite (or argue your point if you are sure she's wrong).

3. Be as flexible as a contortionist in a sideshow. A writing partnership isn't 50-50 all the time. One partner can hit the wall and nothing, not even a shopping list, will emerge from her computer. At that point, the other one has to pick up the story and run, or type, as fast as she can. If you're lucky, you won't both be hit by writers block at the same time. But it's not just a lack of creative juices that can bodycheck a book. Sometimes, day jobs that are paying the bills, family demands that are trying the soul, or natural or unnatural disasters puts one of the partners out of commission. Keep moving forward and don't worry about credit.

Creating fictional mayhem together has made each of us better (much, much better) writers. Even more, our lives have been enriched by our friendship.

We wish for you that same kismet. May you find the right writing partner and may you create the book of your dreams. Let us hear from you.

Good Luck!

Evelyn David