My work husband is also my home husband.

Back in the before times, when I was still trapped in an office, I usually had a work husband or wife — the person you work with the most and develop a unique partnership with. Sometimes even a work polycule with a very attached team.

But I knew when I married an editor that working together made sense. And while it took us decades to get fully comfortable with it, and we finally ended up in a place where we could work together for a living. I think the pandemic played a big part because we spent a year trapped together mostly alone without murdering each other. It made writing together inevitable as home and work blurred together. If we were going to talk about our projects all day we might as well work on the same things.

We had an advantage because we share the kind of shorthand communication that takes a long time to develop. Also a deep love of words and commitment to the power of information. With us, you get a whole system of thinking from two brains obsessed with language.

And we still haven’t murdered each other. We either have the maturity to not take editorial criticism personally or are too numb to care. Go team!

Back when we were young and feral in the desert