You Never Realize Your Jaw Is Capable Of Dropping That Far, But It Is


I have no idea why, but I didn’t check my email that day. I opened it the following morning, while munching on a bagel at my day job.

And then I started hyperventilating, sure I had to have read that wrong.

Then I went to the restroom, sat down on a toilet and put my head between my knees so I wouldn’t pass out.

I remember my hands were shaking.

Seriously, my hands were shaking. Holy cow. Holly West, an editor at Swoon/MacMillan wanted to talk to me about my book. Not just one editor, two editors. And they also asked that I not post about it on social media, either.

I composed myself, went back to my desk, and shot off a very professional, “Why yes, I’d love to chat,” sort of email and gave her my availability. We made a date to talk that afternoon.

4pm arrived, and with a notepad and pen in one hand and a cellphone in the other, I waited. The phone rang, and somehow, I managed not to squeak or babble like a loon.

They loved my book. They loved my book, and they wanted to buy my book, and there was even more than that (but I can’t get into it – I’ll share later, I promise) and lots of contract details that I dutifully wrote down and then the call ended and I sat there frozen in stunned silence.

I had a book deal. I had a book deal with a reasonably good advance and they loved my book and this was a “big five” publisher and holy cow. I’d done it.

And then I started laughing, because here I was, a single mom, who just landed the deal of her dreams and not only could I not crow about it to my blog followers, I had $1.82 in my bank account and couldn’t even afford a bottle of champagne.

A good friend came through for me, however, along with a box of chocolates, and that evening, I celebrated (as my friend author Suzanne Finnamore would say) “with extreme prejudice.”


Now I needed an agent.


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