If you've been in the publishing industry for any length of time you know about "The Call". It's the ringing of the phone or opening of an email that changes your writing from hobby and healthy obsession to budding career. It's an agent offering representation for you and your work. It's the culmination of years of study and hard work, sleepless nights glaring at the glow of your computer screen. It's the moment you realize your self-worth as a writer was balled into one tiny message. (When really, your self-worth should be that you're dedicated to being a writer, shouldn't it? Yes, yes, it should.)
I got that amazing call this week. I'm barely holding in the screams over here! WOO-HOOOOO! Can you see my grin stretching ear to ear and my arms pumping the air over my head???
I've been working with an agent these past few weeks, tweaking my manuscript to make it more marketable on his suggestion. Finally *finally* I received an offer of representation. The contract is in the mail and let me tell you...if that postman/woman loses that envelope I will hunt them down and stake them with their own letter opener. Of course I'm kidding. Of course. I'd stake them with their flying golden envelope pin. No, no, I wouldn't. I'm not that twisted...only in humor folks, no worries. (Okay, now I'm concerned about the possibility of a jail sentence for threatening a postal worker at this point!) (Can I just say again, for the record, I'm joking? Hehe)
As soon as I know the agent has signed his part and it's a 100% GO, I'll give the deets like who and what. And hey! I'll finally post that blurb! I'm so excited and can't wait to head out to celebrate!
I'm on my way! *insert thousand watt smile here