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.
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.