Why you REALLY don't want publishing advice from me

Something weird happens every January.

I mean besides the fact that my bathroom scale malfunctions, because clearly I didn't eat that many bacon-wrapped dates for Christmas.

Each January, I see a flood of emails, tweets, private Facebook messages, and the occasional note scrawled on the bathroom wall asking me for advice on getting published. "I've vowed to write a book this year!" they often begin, or even, "I've just finished my first novel!" And then comes the big ask: "You seem like you're doing well, so can you tell me how to get it published?"

The simple answer is no.

I'm not saying that to be a bitch. There are plenty of other ways I elect to be a bitch on a daily basis, but I'm generally pretty kind when it comes to encouraging my fellow writers.

I suck at giving publishing advice almost as much as I
suck at making a hairbrush look like a lightsaber instead
of like a dildo. You're welcome for that visual.

But here's the thing: If you see an author who's published a dozen or so books in the last 5-10 years, odds are good that person would give you horrible advice on the process of getting published. In fact, the advice they give might end up discouraging, confusing, or completely misdirecting you. Why? Because the publishing industry has changed at the speed of a roadrunner careening down an Astroglide-coated Slip-and-Slide. The knowledge we operated with at the start of our careers is now so laughably antiquated, we might as well tell you your best path to publication is chiseling your manuscript into a cave wall.

I made my first attempt at writing fiction in 2002. Back then, most publishers and agents still wanted snail-mailed queries. It could take a year to hear back from them, and if you did, they might ask you to print out the whole manuscript and lug that 987-pound mofo down to the post office. We'd heard of self-publishing, but it was that thing you did if you couldn't get an agent or a "real" book deal. Twitter was the sound the aforementioned roadrunner might make if he fell off the Slip-and-Slide, and Google sounded like something dirty you might do to yourself under the covers (on second thought, it still sounds like that). Aspiring authors longed to see our books on the shelves at Borders, because obviously everyone wants books in paperback and not those ridiculous newfangled eReader thingies.

You see where I'm going with this? None of that is true anymore, and as far as most of it's concerned, good riddance to bad rubbish.

But if you look at authors who've been cranking out books for a few years, odds are good that was their starting point. And after they slowly, painstakingly crawled their way out of the slush pile and worked their way toward royalty checks that allow them to buy both the cup of coffee and the donut, they crammed their brains full of new knowledge applicable to a different stage in their careers. Contract negotiations, social media marketing, branding, how to be a hybrid author, how to convince the IRS a sex toy collection is a write-off – these are the things we learn after we've been at it a while and reached some modicum of success. While it's useful knowledge after you have a few published books under your belt, you'll make yourself batshit crazy if you start fretting about those things when you're standing there with that shiny first novel in your hand and stars in your eyes.

Any advice I could give you on how to get a book published is either woefully outdated or completely useless to you unless you're at a point in your career where your agent can sell your next book based on the letters "TBD" (yes, that really happened, and yes, I'm eternally grateful Wolfson Literary pulled off that feat and then didn't bat an eyelash when I said, "I think this will be a romantic comedy about death and grief," though I suspect we both breathed a sigh of relief when my editor approved and the book continued on its publication journey for release September 2016. But that's a story for another time. Also, if I'd attempted something like that ten years ago, I would have been laughed out of the publishing biz quicker than you can say, "gofuckyourself, newbie.")

So what can I give you? I mean besides a pat on the butt and hearty congratulations on a major milestone. Seriously, completing that first novel is HUGE. Like go-ahead-and-drink-the-whole-bottle-of-Chianti huge.

Well, I can steer you to the FAQ page of my website, where you'll find a few links and tidbits of advice that may or may not be helpful. I can tell you that while there are wildly differing views on whether authors do or do not need an agent, I would sooner hack off my own nipples with a rusty spoon than operate without Wolfson Literary in my corner, and if you think you might also need an agent, agentquery.com is a good place to start. If the idea of writing a query in the first place is kinda daunting, visit Query Shark and start reading. Don't pause for food or potty breaks until you've been at it for at least eight hours (and preferably eight days).

Don't get discouraged. It's rough out there, and sometimes searching too hard for the magic secret to publication will suck all the joy out of your writing process.

Above all, keep writing. Let me repeat that: KEEP WRITING. It's the one thing you can do to guarantee you'll continue to improve your skills as an author and your odds of eventually landing that book deal.

But don't listen to me. I'm still back here setting up that Slip-and-Slide. Anyone know where I can find a roadrunner?

On struggles, sacrifice, and drinking wine while being groped

I love concerts more than drinking wine  being groped  drinking wine while being groped

I love concerts a lot.

For a pair of tickets to see a performer I really admire, I'd gladly give up drinking wine  being groped  drinking wine while being groped  my morning mug of tea.

Last Saturday I had the pleasure of seeing Brandi Carlile live for the first time. I've attended hundreds of concerts in my 38 years on the planet, so you know it's a big deal when I say this one made my top five list.

Brandi charmed me not only with her passion and musical talent, but with the stories she told between songs. Stories about struggling to make it as an artist. About the roller coaster of creative successes and failures. About what it's like to perform at outdoor venues in the summertime and finally, finally be the one standing onstage when the sun goes down.

I wish I'd written down the precise words she spoke about the things people are willing to give up to chase their dreams, but I was too busy drinking wine  being groped  drinking wine while being groped  enjoying the music.

But it struck a chord with me anyway. And it got me thinking about how many artists have that thread running through their words. Shawn Mullins is another one of my favorite performers, and though he's from the South, I've had the pleasure of seeing him several times in Oregon. He often opens with a song titled, "Twin Rocks, Oregon" about a chance meeting with a transient man offering a unique perspective on life.

 

The lyrics that always sock me in the gut are these ones:

I told him I, too, had been travelin' around 
Living out of my van from town to town 
Playing for tips and whatever records I could move
I said, "I don't reckon I'll be making it big 
It's hard to get rich off a tour of coffeehouse gigs."
He said, "yeah, but ain't it a blessin' to do what you wanna do?"

I've thought more than once about having those last few words tattooed on my arm, particularly during the post-divorce struggles of this past year.

I make it a policy not to share specifics of money when it comes to my life as an author, but I don't think it will surprise you to learn I don't travel around on book tour in a pink Leer jet with shirtless male flight attendants groping me while I drink wine offering me in-flight magazines. Until last week, I drove a 15-year-old car with a dented bumper and a cracked windshield. Nearly every stitch of clothing I own comes from thrift stores, and my annual expenditure for haircuts & styling is under $100.

In the years before I had a book deal, I worked full-time in marketing & communications earning surprisingly good money. I was laid off just weeks before my agent landed me my three-book romantic comedy deal with Sourcebooks, and when I went job-hunting after that, I opted to find a part-time job that allowed me more time for writing.

The pay cut stung, and it stung a lot harder when I suddenly found myself single with a mortgage to pay. Over and over, I asked myself if I'd be smart to swap those extra writing days for the paycheck of a full-time job.

That might have been the smart thing to do, but it wasn't what I chose. Even though I knew it meant a lot of life changes – taking in housemates to pay the mortgage, eventually selling the house – I was willing to make sacrifices to give myself the time I knew I needed to pursue this writing career as wholeheartedly as I could.

Will that choice pay off?

If you mean will I eventually acquire that pink Leer jet with shirtless male flight attendants groping me while I drink wine offering me in-flight magazines, I can assure you it probably won't.

But that was never the payoff I expected anyway.

The thing I want most from my writing career is to wake up every morning knowing I'm doing what I want to do. Maybe not every moment of the day, and Lord knows there have been moments I wanted to stuff my laptop in the neighbor's septic tank and set fire to it.

But certainly I spend the bulk of my waking hours thinking I'm damn lucky to have the opportunities I've been given as an author. The fact that I've made a few sacrifices to achieve that only serves as a reminder how much I truly want to spend my time doing what I've chosen to do.

What are your thoughts on the subject? What struggles and sacrifices are you willing to endure to reach your goals? Please share.

I'll be over here drinking wine  being groped  drinking wine while being groped  working on my next novel.

Sometimes, love just ain't enough

Last week, I invited readers to ask questions.

I answered most in the comments, but one caught my eye from blog reader Alexa. She asked:

If you believe in your book, but you've gotten a lot of rejections, at what point do you say, "It's not them, it's me" and revise or scrap the manuscript?

I told her I needed to mull it over, and that’s what I’ve been doing. Mulling. Did you know mulling involves copious amounts of Sauvignon Blanc?

After a full week of careful contemplation, here’s my answer:

It depends.

Don’t you hate that? And don’t you hate that I feel compelled to constantly remind you “every author’s journey is different, and you can’t judge yourself by someone else’s experience.”

Now that we got that out of the way, I’ll tell you my experience. And I’ll tell you the two things that can help you figure out the answer to that question for yourself.

In the last eight years, I’ve written nine full manuscripts and six partials. With every single one, I believed I had a shot at publication.

But the first thing that helps me determine if I’m right or I’m delusional is perspective – that is, input from people who are not emotionally tied to the story.

I get that from my two critique partners (writers themselves) and three beta readers (masters at spotting “issues”).

When I finished writing MAKING WAVES two years ago, I thought it was pretty solid. Then I handed it off to those guys.

They trashed it.

I thought my heroine was quirky. They thought she was immature and weird.

When I reread it, I had to admit they had a point. I revised the hell out of the story, adding scenes, tweaking descriptions, and working to make the heroine more sympathetic. The book eventually sold as part of my three-book deal with Sourcebooks, and it’s scheduled as my debut next August.

But that’s only half the story

Because recently, I opened MAKING WAVES for the first time in over a year. It’s due on my editor’s desk soon, and I wanted to do some final polishing.

And that’s when I got the second thing on my list – perspective. (For a writer, I suck at coming up with new words.)

But now I’m talking about the perspective you get when you take a break from your own work. When you set it aside, ignore it for awhile, and write a new manuscript or two.

This time around, I realized I hadn’t gone far enough rehabbing my heroine. Despite my critique partners’ feedback that first time, deep down I thought, “they just don’t get her.”

But with two years of distance between my brain and the original writing, I was able to separate myself from what I meant to write and what I actually wrote. I made new tweaks, added 5,000 words to the story, and am preparing to send it to my editor.

I’m sure she’ll have changes of her own. It’s possible she’ll insist my heroine would be more compelling with a third arm (in which case I will politely ask if she prefers it to protrude from her forehead or her stomach).

Does that answer your question? Not totally, right? Because it comes from the obnoxious, happily-ever-after perspective of an author who sold the novel.

So let me confess something:

While I adore MAKING WAVES with every fiber of my being, and I’m thrilled it’s being published, it’s not my favorite book I’ve written.

That honor belongs to a book I wrote in 2006 – the one that originally snagged offers of representation from four agents. Two of those agents shopped it to editors, and maybe a dozen of those editors professed to love it.

But the book never sold.

Was it me? Was it them? Was it aliens?

I honestly don’t know.

I still believe in that book. So does my brilliant and talented agent, Michelle Wolfson.

But we’ve both come to accept that the time isn't right for it.

You can work hard to get the perspective of others and the perspective of distance. That’s a crucial part of figuring out if your manuscript has problems.

But sadly, that’s not always enough.

And as gut-wrenching as it is, a smart writer learns how to move on, write something new, and set the beloved project on the back burner with the heat on low.

Have I depressed you all now? I feel like I should tell a penis joke to lighten the mood. Anyone know a good one?

The special way I used my pen(is)

So who wants to take a guess what I did with this yesterday?

OK, stop guessing now. And stop staring at it. Really, knock it off.

Here is what I did with my very special penis pen.

That's right, I signed my three-book contract with Sourcebooks, Inc. Four copies of it, 15 pages each, packed full of sentences like:

The benefit of the Author’s warranties and indemnities shall extend to any person, firm or corporation against whom any such claim, demand or suit is asserted or instituted by reason of the publication, sale or distribution of the Works as if such representations and warranties were originally made to such third parties.

Incidentally, I'm going to find a way to use that line in the next love scene I write.

In all seriousness, you probably assumed I signed that thing ages ago, right? After all, it's been almost exactly four months since I announced the sale.

But that's not how publishing works. This is one of many reasons people tell you over and over "don't quit your day job."

And that's certainly not to say anyone screwed up or dragged his or her feet. On the contrary, my amazing agent, Michelle Wolfson, and equally amazing editor, Deb Werksman, have both done an incredible job hammering out the details and thinking of things I would never in a million years dream up. Like who pays for it if a pterodactyl eats all the copies of my debut novel before it can be shipped to bookstores? I'm pretty sure there's a clause in my contract that covers it.

This is why I'm endlessly grateful to have such smart, talented people in my court. I didn't actually realize what a superstar Deb is in romance writer circles until I went to my first RWA meeting and my new chapter-mates gasped, "Deb Werksman is your editor?" with same tone they'd use to ask if Angelina Jolie is my best friend (FYI, she totally is).

And I don't have to tell you how much Michelle rocks. Having her fighting for me and my books every step of the way makes me weep with gratitude that she's my agent.

And also that I'll never have to face her in a cage match.

So there you have it. The contracts are signed, they're going in the mail today, and apparently there's some mysterious object called an advance check that might make its way to me sometime in the coming months.

Rumor has it they might actually be PAYING me to do this.

Oh, and I have a penis pen.

Does life get any better?

I've always been awesome, how about you?

I haven’t seen the movie Precious. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t pick Academy Award-nominated actress Gabourey Sidibe out of a police lineup.

But I recently read a quote that made me want to grab her by the face and lick her ear (or something equally affectionate):

“They [the press] try to paint the picture that I was this downtrodden, ugly girl who was unpopular in school and in life and then I got this role and now I'm awesome,” she said. “But the truth is that I've been awesome, and then I got this role."

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.

In recent weeks, casual acquaintances who’ve learned of my recent three-book deal with Sourcebooks have asked me how it feels.

What’s it like to know you’re finally good enough to sell a book?

Want to know the answer I can’t give them because I don’t want to sound like an egotistical bitch?

I was always good enough to sell a book. It just took awhile for the right editor to realize it.

Look, I’m not saying I didn’t have a lot to learn, and I’ve certainly written some craptastic stuff over the years. Even the book I originally sold to Harlequin/Silhouette’s Bombshell line back in 2005 is something I’m happy to leave tucked under my bed. I’ve grown a lot as a writer since then, and I’m much happier with the way I write now.

But if I hadn’t believed from the first moment I started writing fiction in 2002 that I was good enough to be published, I doubt I could have held on for the duration of my bumpy ride to publication.*

As an author, you have to believe that. Even on days you don’t believe it, you need to stand there in front of the mirror and say, “Dammit, I rule.”

Or some variation on that.

I’m lucky. My parents bestowed upon me a disturbingly high self-esteem, and my husband & agent believed in me no matter how many rejections rolled in. That’s a big part of how I kept going despite all the setbacks along the way.

That, and a lot of Chianti.

Getting published isn’t about who you know, who you shag, or even how well you write. It’s about believing in yourself enough to keep going no matter how many times someone slaps you on the ass and says, “close, but no cigar.”

So let’s all say it together now, shall we?

I’m awesome. I’ve always been awesome. I’m awesome whether it takes me 12 days or 12 years to get published.

Repeat as often as necessary until you believe it.

*If you’re new to this blog and don’t know what I’m talking about, go here for the full story of my rather lengthy road to publication.

The fantasies of lazy souls

OK, authors – show of hands: how many of you have fantasized about your “I have arrived” moment?

Maybe it’s the day you finish your first manuscript. Maybe it’s the day you get an agent. Maybe it’s the day you land a book deal. Maybe it’s the day you hit the New York Times bestseller list and win a Pulitzer Prize in literature but miss the ceremony because you’re busy rescuing an endangered Markhor from a bear trap.

Over the years, I’ve had fantasies about all of those things. In my mind, these were events heralded in by a band of angels singing from on high while copious amounts of money and good wine flowed my way.

But even more important than the money or wine or even the angels would be this: I wouldn’t have to work so hard.

Because let’s face it, I’m lazy. This isn’t a trait I highlight in job interviews, but it’s true. Pythagoras laughs when I say this and insists I’m the least lazy person he knows – that I’m actually just disturbingly efficient. I refuse to wear shoes that don’t slip on because tying is too much work. Call that what you want, but it seems lazy to me.

So in my ideal fantasy world, my “I have arrived” writing moment would also be the day I could kick back and do nothing to further my writing career besides...well, write.

But after eight years of work and finally reaching many of those milestones I mentioned above (minus the Markhor, damn his endangered hide) I know my odds of achieving this fantasy are fairly similar to the odds of George Clooney appearing naked on my doorstep with a tub of butter and a set of jumper cables.

The unfortunate fact of publishing is that authors really don’t get to spend that much time writing. We devote countless hours to studying our genre, researching the subject of our books, querying agents, blogging and tweeting to establish an online presence, working on pitches for editors, seeking blurbs from other authors, and marketing the hell out of our upcoming releases.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, you have to find time to write. And as much as you might wish for it, most of those tasks I just listed don’t go away when you reach your “I have arrived” moment.

I thought of this yesterday when I was chatting with my agent, Michelle Wolfson, about how many books I might hope to sell when my first novel is released in August 2011. She reminded me that much of it depends on me, and how aggressively I market myself and my books. She encouraged me to write down ideas for contests and cross-promotions, book reviewers and virtual book tours. By the end of our email exchange, I was thinking, “holy crap, this is going to be a lot of work.”

And you notice how very little of it involves actual writing?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to be presented with this challenge. But if you’re one of those authors hoping your “I have arrived” moment will include a trusty assistant hand-feeding you bon-bons while you leisurely type up your next bestseller, you might want to consider a more realistic fantasy. Maybe one that involves George Clooney actually riding an endangered Markhor. Naked, of course.

This business isn’t for the faint of heart, nor is it for the lazy. There will never be a point in your writing career where you won’t have to work hard. Never. It may be exhilarating and rewarding and even fun, but it will never, ever be easy.

Now go grab your own bon-bons and get to work.

I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you

I’m going to tell you a secret.

No, it’s not the meaning of life or why the Kool-Aid packet says not to mix it in a metal pitcher (though I’d love to learn both of those things).

I’m going to tell you the secret to getting published. Ready? Lean close, I’ll whisper. Ew, not that close, you’re smearing snot on the monitor.

OK, the key to getting published isn’t talent. It’s not practice. It isn’t even a fabulous agent, though I recommend having all of those things.

Nope, there are really just two keys to getting published. The first is perseverance – an all-consuming-teeth-gritting-balls-to-the-wall ability to keep going in the face of adversity, failure, rejection, and bad hair days.

The second is dumb luck.

That’s pretty much it.

As a soon-to-be-published author, I’m probably supposed to say something more profound. I should give you a wise, pious little smile and tell you that if you just hone your writing skills and craft the best book you possibly can, you’ll eventually get published.

I don’t believe that.

Because over the years, I’ve seen some truly terrific writers just give up. One or two rejections, one or two years of bad luck or overt failure, and they throw in the towel. They decide to quit the whole writing thing and try something safer. Like sword swallowing.

I’ve also seen some truly awful books get published. I’m not talking about the kind you love and I hate, or I love and you hate, but we all agree to hug it out and accept each other’s differing tastes.

No, I’m talking about bad writing. You know it, I know it, and we both know it gets published.

Why? Let me repeat myself. Perseverance. Dumb luck.

Years ago when Pythagoras was job hunting, he applied for a position he desperately wanted. He didn’t get it – wasn’t really even in the running – but the person who got the job was so laughably under-qualified, you had to assume there was blackmail, hypnosis, or really good sex involved.

My father – who spent 30 years working in the same profession – clapped Pythagoras on the shoulder and nodded wisely. “It’s like that a lot,” he told my dejected husband. “The wrong guy often gets the job, but someday you’ll be the wrong guy for the job.”

I’m not sure this was a great source of comfort to Pythagoras, but it was oddly comforting to me. It’s like that a lot in writing. You’ll see these hugely talented authors who could be published. Who should be published. But the perpetual beat-down gets to them and they decide not to keep going.

I can respect that.

And I can also respect the writers who work their butts off, who take failure after failure and still keep going. The writers who receive a rejection and don’t think “I suck,” but who shake their fists and shout, “Mr. Editor, you suck.”

That’s not to say you shouldn’t learn from negative feedback, but the take-home lesson isn’t that you’re unworthy. It’s that you need to keep working, keep trying, keep at it until you achieve your goal.

Also, you need a little more luck.

You can’t do much about the luck. Well, you could try sacrificing a virgin in a volcano, but you’ll likely just melt your shoes and singe your eyebrows.

You do, however, have control over your ability to persevere. Someday, you might be the wrong guy for the job. And that will be the best day ever.

Holy crap, this is really happening

Yesterday my agent, Michelle Wolfson, emailed with some happy news. Publishers Marketplace (the industry publication in the world of publishing) posted my official deal announcement.

Well, pretty much. The wording changed from what Michelle submitted, and for some reason they posted it twice (which we’ve decided to assume means my three-book deal is now a six-book deal).

But bottom line, the announcement is out there.

For some reason, this kind of freaked me out. Not in a hide-under-my-desk-and-hum-while-sucking-my-knuckles way, but in a holy-crap-this-is-really-happening way.

I went through some of this five years ago with my book deal that wasn’t meant to be with Silhouette Bombshell. When they posted a small article about my sale on the Harlequin website (scroll way down, I’m near the bottom) I had this same sense of joy mixed with dread mixed with disbelief.

For some reason, the disbelief always seemed strongest. That’s not to suggest I had psychic premonitions of the line being canceled (though the marketing-geek in me suspected from the start that Bombshell wasn’t set up to succeed).

But something about that earlier book deal never seemed quite real.

This new deal? It feels real. Having an agent and an editor remind me of it makes it feel real. Having Pythagoras boast about it to co-workers makes it feel real. Having friends and strangers visit my blog and chat about it on Twitter makes it feel real.

And even without all that, the Publishers Marketplace announcement makes it feel real (if you click it gets bigger – no need to give yourself a hernia squinting at it):

The long answer to what seemed like an easy question

Since I announced my three-book deal with Sourcebooks, Inc., I’ve had tons of aspiring authors ask some variation of this question:

How long did it take you to get published?

The answer is more complicated than you might think. My apologies for the lengthy blog entry, but hey, you asked.

I’ll skip the details of building my writing skills as a newspaper reporter and marketing copywriter, or earning my oh-so-useful degree in English literature.

What you’re really asking is:

When did you first start writing fiction?

Or, let’s be honest here:

How long do I have to throw myself at this @#$% wall writing manuscripts and queries until I’m ready to poke myself in the eye with a fork?

Which leads me to my first caveat, one I touched on in an earlier blog post: You can’t judge your own journey to publication on someone else’s. It’s different for everyone. Some writers sell their first book, and some try their damndest for 20 years. Honestly, if I’d known at the start how bumpy my road to publication would be, I’m not sure I would have kept going.

I’m not saying that to scare you. It's good that none of us knows how many tries it will take until we reach our goal because the idea that success is just around the corner is what keeps us going. That, and the fervent desire to gloat maniacally to everyone who said we couldn’t do it.

So here’s my story:

I started writing fiction the summer of 2002 after my book club read a novel by an uber-famous romance author and I announced that if that crap could get published, so could I.

My first book was an action/adventure/romance targeted at a new line Harelquin-Silhouette was debuting the following year. My book sucked, and it didn’t take me long to realize that. I started writing a new one even before I got the rejection on the first. That second book earned me the elusive request for revisions, a sign that I was almost there.

That second book didn’t sell either, but the third one did. I got “the call” on May 19, 2005. It was my “I have arrived” moment. Little did I know.

As an aside, you’ll notice that it took almost three years from the date I started writing until the date of “the call.” That’s not because it takes me a year to write a book. It takes me three months, sometimes less. It’s the @#$% submission process that takes forever, one of MANY reasons I tell any aspiring author to get a good agent.

My other reasons are coming up.

So I cashed my advance check from Bombshell and spent the next 15 months doing revisions, brainstorming titles and cover art, and writing two follow-up Bombshells that never made it to contract.

August 2006, I got the “un-call.” My editor phoned on my 32nd birthday to let me know the Bombshell line was being canceled one month prior to my scheduled debut. My book would not be released, nor would my two follow-ups. I was out on my butt.

To add insult to injury, this was the same day my cat died and my boss informed me that if I continued violating the company’s hosiery policy, they would fire me. (I did. They didn’t).

A little shaken, I moved on. Since action/adventure/romance wasn’t what I wanted to write anyway, I tried a new path – straight up romantic comedy with a dollop of mystery.

I began the new book in August 2006, queried agents in November, and by mid-December, I had four amazing agents offering to represent me.

I picked wrong.

I’m not saying this to diss the other agent, as I know the agent is tremendously successful and has many satisfied clients. It just wasn’t the right fit.

I figured this out over the course of the year in 2007 as I wrote four new partial manuscripts (none of which the agent liked) while the book that had originally earned the adoration of four agents failed to sell.

Once I’d parted company with my first agent, I tracked down Michelle Wolfson – the agent I realized I should have picked to start with.

With my tail between my legs, I asked if she’d still consider representing me. To my delighted surprise, she took me on. I signed with her in January 2008.

Thus began another long submission process with multiple manuscripts. Michelle sent the original book to a small handful of editors my first agent hadn’t tried. The response was good, with several editors sending my book for second reads or to the editorial board as a recommended buy.

Sadly, the book still didn’t sell.

Michelle was undeterred, which is what I love most about her. I wrote another book, this one straight romantic comedy with no mystery. Again, we got close. Several times we were on the brink of popping the champagne corks.

Still, no deal. It often came down to strange things, like another book at that publishing house that was too similar to mine. At one point, three different editors who loved my book ended up leaving their jobs before a deal could be made. Michelle and I joked that I was cursed.

Oddly enough, the feedback we were getting was all positive. If an editor had said, “this chick can’t write,” I might have been discouraged. Instead, I felt motivated. I joked with my critique partners that it had become a“literary grudge f**k” for me.

My lowest point came one week after my 35th birthday this past August 2009. We were waiting for a decision on a submission that seemed like a done deal. Something good was about to happen.

Within the same 24-hour period, a nerve test revealed that my recent elbow surgery had failed, my elderly dog developed a severe vestibular condition and couldn’t walk, and my younger dog collapsed from an undetected bleeding tumor and had to be put down. My pets have always been my babies, so this was a particularly hard blow.

Then Michelle called. The book deal wasn’t going to happen.

I expected to collapse. I didn’t. Oddly enough, it was the thing I needed to push me from being horribly sad to just horribly pissed off. “Literary grudge f**k,” indeed.

Despite the setback, Michelle still believed in me and wanted to keep fighting. Plenty of agents would drop a client who wasn’t earning her keep, so the fact that Michelle wouldn’t consider giving up is a big part of the reason I kept going. The support of my family, critique partners, and beta readers helped too.

I wrote a brand new book. Michelle suggested offering it on an exclusive basis to Deb Werksman at Sourcebooks – an editor who’d come very close to buying my previous romantic comedy, and a publishing house we agreed would be a good fit.

Over the next few months, there was a lot of back-and-forth with Deb as we brainstormed marketing hooks and titles and plotted future books. One of the best things about Sourcebooks is that they believe in building an author’s career for the long-term. They want authors with multiple book ideas and a commitment to growing a readership.

When Michelle called me last Thursday to say they were offering us a three-book deal, I was thrilled. Best of all, two of the three books are already written. One of them, in fact, is a book Sourcebooks rejected a year ago when we just couldn’t get the marketing hook right.

And two of the three books began with those partial manuscripts my first agent just wasn’t interested in.

So you see, there is a happy ending. But it’s a damn long story. Would I have preferred things to go more smoothly? Hell, yes. But sometimes you have to experience some bumps in order to appreciate smooth sailing when it comes along.

I’m not sure I would have realized how amazing Michelle is if it weren’t for my experience with my first agent.

And I’m not sure I would have appreciated this book deal quite as much if it had dropped effortlessly into my lap.

Behold, the purple hair

Though I’ve never personally met any of Michelle Wolfson’s other clients, I consider several of them to be good friends. Fellow client Linda Grimes calls this “Agency Sistahs,” a term I quite adore.

Last summer, one of my Agency Sistahs, Kiersten White, decided to tempt fate. She vowed that if her book PARANORMALCY sold, she would embarrass herself by dyeing a swatch of hair a bizarre color.

Since I’m a bit superstitious myself, I joined her in the pledge. After that, my Agency Sistah and I cheered each other on from afar, each of us hoping the other would soon have the opportunity to humiliate herself with ridiculous hair.

Kiersten had the chance to make good on her pledge when Michelle sold PARANORMALCY in an amazing deal.

Now it’s my turn to do the same.

Behold, I give you evidence of the purple hair:

Just a normal Friday, except...

So I’m having a tough time deciding what to blog about, and I’ve decided to take a vote. Which of the following would you like me to discuss?

1) Tips and techniques for proper tooth brushing.
2) The role of Alkiviades in ancient Greek history
3) My new three-book deal with Sourcebooks, Inc.
4) How to change the spark plugs in your car.

Alkiviades, you say? Excellent choice.

Alkiviades lived from 452-402 BC and is considered one of the most controversial figures of the antiquity. A member of the democratic parataxis, he—

What? That wasn’t what you wanted me to discuss? Oh, you wanted to hear about the book deal?

Well then . . .

For several weeks, Wonder Agent Michelle Wolfson and I have been having talks with Editor Deb Werksman at Sourcebooks, Inc. Though many aspiring authors probably start off thinking you just write a book and hand it off to an editor who either buys it or doesn’t, the process is seldom that simple.

For one thing, Sourcebooks is big on building authors’ careers – not just publishing one book. Savvy publishing professional that she is, Deb wanted to see a complete career arc and a “hook” that sums up the sort of books readers can expect from me. The three of us have spent weeks brainstorming titles and marketing ideas and concepts for future books.

We finally got everything nailed down just the way we wanted it, and Deb informed us on Monday that she would be taking it to her editorial board Thursday as a proposed three book deal. She wanted BELIEVE IT OR NOT, MAKING WAVES, and LET IT BREATHE. The first two are written, the third is not.

All day yesterday, I waited patiently (read: bit my fingernails and carried the phone with me every time I went to the bathroom) for news. Around 2:45 PST Michelle emailed to let me know she hadn’t heard anything and that it was possible the meeting had been canceled due to bad weather.

I resigned myself to not hearing anything that day and got busy doing the dishes. One hour later, the phone rang. It was Michelle, and I knew from her grim tone that bad news was coming.

What I actually should have known from her grim tone is that my agent is a sneaky wench who delights in yanking my chain by making idle chit chat in a faux-somber voice when I just wanted to scream “WHAT IS IT WHAT DID THEY SAY?!?!?!?”

She finally put me out of my misery and told me about the offer. She gave me the details, which I feverishly jotted on the back of a grocery receipt while the dog licked my ankle. Tentatively, the first book is scheduled for release in August 2011, with the other two coming out over the course of the following 12 months. This makes me happy because (a) having three books released in a 12-month span is a fabulous way to build a readership, and (b) August is a great month for a release not only because my books are excellent beach reads, but because it’s my birthday month!

So that’s what I know right now. Well, that and the fact that WONDER AGENT MICHELLE WOLFSON TOTALLY RULES!

And I’m really, really looking forward to working with Deb Werksman as well, since she’s an amazing editor who clearly has terrific taste in books. I’m also excited about being published with Sourcebooks. As some of you may recall from a previous post, Sourcebooks published one of my very favorite books (Tiffanie DeBartolo’s HOW TO KILL A ROCK STAR) as well as several others that have been favorites with my drinking club . . . er, book club . . . over the years.

So this is very good news all around. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go climb up on the roof with a bottle of champagne and a megaphone so I can shout it out to the neighborhood.