Wow. So this is something I never thought I’d write.
I’ve been writing a book. The working title is Seraphina’s Lament, and it sits firmly under the dark epic fantasy banner. Really dark. Really, really dark.
So I was writing this book more because I just had a story to tell, rather than anything serious. Then I decided I liked this story that I was telling, so I decided to take it seriously. Well, after about a month and a half, I pounded out roughly 107,000 words and last week I got to type “The End.” It was surreal. I wrote a whole entire book.
I did that.
So I wrote this book and I decided somewhere along the way that I’m going to try and get an agent. This is a book that I’m going to try to publish. But, you know, I’ve been around for a while and I’ve seen how dog-eat-dog this stuff is. I figured I’d give it a try, but not hang my hopes too high. It takes years for authors to get agents, and why would it be any different for me? Plus, my life these past few years, health-wise, has been one gigantic battle and I just dug in and figured that publishing this book would be the same way.
But what the hell, right? What am I out? If nothing else, I can learn origami and make pretty little things out of rejection letters.
Last night I sat down and pounded out a query letter, and a biography, and I edited the first three chapters of my manuscript. I attached all this stuff to an email to my dream agent and mailed it off at about 9:30pm. Then I figured out a plan of action. While I’m waiting to probably never hear from this dude, I’ll work on editing Seraphina’s Lament, while I outline the second book in that series, and edit projects that clients are paying me to edit. I’ve got a lot of things to keep my mind off of the wait for this agent.
This morning I took my six-year-old to school, and then went to the store with my two-year-old so I could buy the caffeine I need to drink to survive. I got home at about 9:30am, and checked my email.
And lo! A letter from Dream Agent was sitting in my inbox. I clicked on it and read that he wants me to call him so we can discuss representation. Then I promptly fell into a ball on my kitchen floor and started crying. I don’t know about you, but apparently my first reaction when I am grappling with a childhood dream coming true is falling into tears. My two-year-old was kind of panicked, standing over me and saying, “Okay, mama? Okay?” Yes, little bird, I’m okay.
Well, lunch comes around and the little one takes a nap so I call Dream Agent and we talk. We talk about what he does. Who he is. Who he represents. How his agency works. His vision for my work. On and on, and it was everything I wanted to hear. I’ve been around a while, and I’ve seen a lot of authors complain about a lot of things, and he just checked off all of my boxes without me even needing to ask.
Then he said, “Well, do you want to think about this offer for a while?” and I said, “No. Yours is a bandwagon I’m completely prepared to jump on.” And thus, we started our relationship. We talked about next steps for Seraphina’s Lament, and future prospects (my favorite line was, “It’s not a matter of IF you get published, it’s a matter of WHEN.” Be still, my heart.).
And, the crazy thing is, this is all based on a twelve hour wait (most of which I slept through), and three chapters read. Three. Chapters.
Basically this all boils down to the fact that I am now being represented by Mark Gottleib at Trident Media.
Occasionally dreams do come true.