This is when it stopped feeling real...

That agents liked my book was in itself a dream come true, but was no guarantee that publishers would feel the same.  Obviously I was hoping they would, but again, this was uncharted territory for me.  I'd no idea what their response would be, how long this next part would take, and whether I'd sit in another slushpile for days, weeks, months even, waiting my turn.

This is where you SO need an agent.  After the polishing, pitching your book to people who'd otherwise never see it.  Loads of these other people, as it happens - worldwide.  What followed was the most exciting, unbelievable, surreal experience.  There were offers from foreign territories before the UK - something I vaguely knew happened but hadn't even thought about.  Juliet's calls and emails with the latest updates.  Then the call that began 'Are you sitting down...'

I was so lucky - not a day goes by that I don't think that.  What could have been the most nerve-racking wait of my life happened at lightning speed and despite the best efforts of the taxi driver who was determined to leave me at the wrong end of London that morning, my book has found a wonderful publisher.  It's a cliché, but this is the dream I've held on to, from when I first started reading those fantastic stories about writers who wrote a book and found an agent and got published, just like that.

And it's taken a few years but now, it's happened to me, too:

http://thebookseller.com/news/pan-mac-wins-auction-howells-thriller.html

               

For me, the next chapter is just starting.  There's editing, the next book to write and wonderful people to work with, but amazing though it seems, it is happening.  I will forever keep the emails that flew between Juliet and myself over those completely mad weeks, just to remind myself - it's real!
But my point is this.  Those dream-come-true stories you find online sometimes, aren't made up.  Publishing is full of people who want to find books they feel passionate about - I know this because I've met a few of them.  And okay, for most of us, it doesn't happen overnight.  As an unpublished writer faced with rejections, sometimes it's hard, really hard, to keep the faith.  But the best things are so worth waiting for - if you keep writing and keep believing, you never know, one day, it might happen to you...

On editing...

 

Writing is an endurance test - of the love in your life.  Not just how much you love writing, because it's hard, time-consuming work, but how much your family really love you, when you spend more time in the world you've dreamed up than in the one you share with them.  Guilt levels rising stratospherically higher than the usual sky-high level that every parent knows, when someone says Mum, you've asked me that loads of times or I already told you, you never listen and I don't have any pants.  For the record, I do listen.  Just, when I'm writing, there's far too much stuff in my head.

 

 



 

The first month of this year has been spent editing - properly, with Juliet's brilliant insight - polishing, tightening, deleting what wasn't needed (less really is so often more) and rewriting where the pace needed work.  It's hard when you work back and forth through something, so many times that your brain feels like spaghetti, and that even you, who wrote it in the first place, can't remember what happens where.  I now fully understand what it means to lose the plot, because there were times I came close to losing mine.  Different things helped at this stage - Pinterest, because some parts of the book are very visual - and I put a soundtrack together that fitted the story without overly distracting me, both of which I'll use much earlier with my next book.  And if all else fails, a day away from it too, can work wonders.


I'd no idea what to expect, because it was the first time I'd had any proper, editorial input.  Many people have taken time to review my self-published books and yes, I always read what they write, know I'm not supposed to, but can't help it.  The really lovely ones give me a warm fuzzy feeling and yes, the scathing ones make me question my sanity and remind me how subjective all this is.  But I'm aware that my books could be better, which means listening to people who know.

 

If I'm honest, I wondered how I'd feel about someone highlighting weaknesses or suggesting changes, but I knew also,  that someone else would see things I couldn't.  And it's wonderful working with someone who loves my book.  Someone who answers emails practically as soon as I send them.  As well as that, Juliet found the gremlins that I'd kind of buried away and tried to forget about, while making other suggestions that made it a better book.

 

Immersed in editing, family (and dogs, cats etc) neglected, house untidy, washing piling up, larder bare, I found out too, that sleepless nights don't go away.  One night I woke up, actually in a panic, thinking what if there's a fire!! (Yes, I know) Only I'd forgotten to email my latest edits to myself - a new habit I try to keep to - every night, emailing the latest updated edit.doc. in case of fires or acts of God or computers crashing, because how awful would that be.  So there I was, lying in the dark, cat curled up next to me, thinking obsessively about my manuscript, yet again.

I discovered also, that the insecurities don't go away, getting that familiar churning feeling as I pressed send, winging the latest edits off to Juliet.  What if she didn't like them?

But luckily she did and in the end, we got there quite quickly.  And at the end of January, the latest tweaks done, that very same afternoon I sent it to Juliet, my manuscript was on it's way to publishers.

And then it got even more AMAZING...

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Writing aside for a moment, in so many ways, 2013 has been quite a year.  But this time last year, if someone had told me I'd have self-published three books and sold tens of thousands of them; would have an offer from a digital publisher, that I'd write something completely different and find an agent... I probably would have said, right, would be fantastic, BUT...

But it's happened!  And right now, because it's still new and makes me grin a bit madly when I think about it, I keep reminding myself, because I'm so enjoying this bit.  I'm still chasing the dream of a traditional publishing deal with this latest book, but I wouldn't have got this far without the thousands of people who've bought my books so far.  Or other writers who've given me advice, agents who've given me feedback.  All of you who've written reviews, bloggers who've featured my books and even me, too!  You are all completely brilliant.

So a massive THANK YOU to all of you, from the bottom of my heart...

and may your New Year be filled with love.

2014... Bring it on...

 

I have an agent!

Monday was the very best day.  One of those really amazing days I'll always remember.  It began the way it always does - up early, tromp through mud and feed animals, turf teenage son out of bed.
It also happened to be one of the Mondays I volunteer at a hospice - just for a couple of hours.  Just as well, too, because I was nervous and it took my mind off what I was doing later on.

Then, that afternoon, I caught a train and walked along a London street in the cold December sun, to the first of my meetings with two of the agents who had said they'd like to represent me.
I'd already decided that if I got a taxi, I'd be sure to get to the right place at the right time.  You'd think that, wouldn't you, with a taxi?  I did, only the taxi driver took me to the wrong place, so I was flustered and really, really late, which wasn't the best start.
But I soon forgot about it, because it was surreal and brilliant and exciting all at the same time, and nerve-racking too - until I met them, because they couldn't have been more welcoming.

By the end of the afternoon, my head was full to bursting.  I came out of the second meeting and just walked, for ages, in the dark, a bit numb, not having a clue where I was headed.  (I ended up in Waterstones)  Then I walked some more.
(Later that evening, I got a train to Gatwick to meet my daughter Georgie who was flying back from Greece after nearly three months - like I said, it was a great day.)

But back to agents, because all the times I've imagined this situation, I never once imagined I'd have a choice.  So, I guessed, if I met with them, depending on how well we got on or what they said about my book, presumably all would become obvious.  Only it didn't - well, not straight away.

I kept telling myself, that if only one of the agents had offered, I'd have been just as thrilled, so from this enviable position I found myself in, all I had to do was figure out how I was going to decide.  Both had told me to take my time and think about it - very sound advice, because in all the excitement, and it was, hugely exciting, it's so tempting to make the decision in a hurry.

My first consideration had to be their vision for my book.  I knew it needed polishing and that a professional would see straight away where it could be improved, but that said, I wanted to agree with them.  I'm not precious about my books, but it felt important to be true to my own vision for it too.
But in this instance, that on its own didn't help me.  Both agents had really valid, constructive comments to make which I mostly agreed with.  Added to that, I could imagine myself working with both of them, too.

After that, I spent a fair amount of time reading about other writers' experiences.  What both authors and agents had to say about multiple offers.  I looked up the authors that each of the agents I met represented - types of books and what happened when they were submitted to publishers. 

Then when I put it all together, I knew what my decision was.  I emailed the agents I'd decided not to go with, which I found really hard, then withdrew one submission who hadn't got back to me.  Then I picked up the phone.

And so, as of today, I'm completely thrilled to announce that I am now represented by the fabulous Juliet Mushens of the Agency Group!

Making one of the biggest decisions ever...

Okay, so after that, things got even more amazing.

We now have agent B in the picture, because after the call from the first agent, when I emailed her that evening, to tell her that I'd had two offers of representation, she said please send it over, like now - even though she's on holiday.  She'd read ASAP and get back to me.

She did the ASAP bit.  She actually emailed me back later that same evening, saying she'd just finished reading it and she'd love to represent me, too.  I had another offer from another agent making it four!!! You agents - in the nicest possible way - you're ever so slightly like buses!!! Do you know how long I've been trying to find one? 

Truly though, I'm euphoric, excited, and somewhat humbled by the response I've received, so whatever happens now, the hugest thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who's shown interest.  The sweat, blood and tears have got me the next step along the way.  All I have to do now is make a choice...

That day I got a call from an agent...

Okay.  That thing about dreams.  They're a thing I have - I posted about them a while back too, because I've had this one for quite a while.

It goes like this.  You sweat blood over that precious manuscript, get it as polished as you can, peruse your list of the best possible agents, write cover letters and press SEND, crossing fingers, in fact crossing absolutely everything...
Then, you wait.  And it can be quite a wait.

This book's a psychological thriller - my first in this genre and I had no idea how it would be received.  Going on past experience, I know you get rejections.  On this occasion, I submitted to a small number of agents, not getting my hopes up too high because I've been here before.
Sure enough, Agent X got right back to me with a no thanks. 
Here we bloody go again, I couldn't help thinking.  Deep breath.  Told myself, No...  It's just one rejection.  And you only need just one agent...
Next, Agent Y pinged back please can I read the rest and I sent it straight away, suddenly hopeful again.
Then Agent Z pinged back yes, too.  Sent it to her too, starting to get quietly excited.

But then I stopped myself, because this happened to Wildflowers.  Six requests for the full MS and no takers.

Anyway, a sleepless night followed.  This book has done this to me, especially latterly as I got closer to finishing it.  For the last few weeks, every other night has been a two or three o'clock-er which is a great time to write but not so great the next day.
But, I'd sent the book off.  There's another I'm writing but I couldn't concentrate.  So I faffed and procrastinated and went to see if any other insomniac nutters were about on Twitter, which they weren't, and so I started perusing all the writery kind of websites I like reading.  And this name kind of leapt out of the screen at me.  And I thought, why haven't I sent this to him?

So I did.  At about six in the morning.  Got an email at half past 10.  Please could I send the rest. so I did.  Carried on day writing other book, then after lunch, sleep deficit well and truly kicking in, moved to the sofa with cat, switched on mindless TV (no offence, Peter Andre and Sixty Minute Makeovers) and was just dozing off when the phone rang.

It was him. The last person I expected.  We'll have to call him Agent A, at this stage, and he said such lovely things about my book, I was completely tongue-tied.  He really, really liked it - so much he even missed his lunch to finish it...
So we arranged to meet. 

I phoned my husband to tell him.  Voicemail.  Went to meet my son off his college bus.  He wasn't on it.  Kept it to myself for two whole hours - surreal.  Then phoned Georgie in Greece - she's thrilled for me.
Our meeting's the same day Georgie comes home after three  months in Greece.  It's going to be one of those one-off kind of days and I can't wait.

So, I went from submission to meeting in less than a day.  And truly, I've worked hard as I can, and I've dreamed of this kind of response, but if it's happened to me, it can happen to you, too xx.

But this is only the first part of the story...

September...

This one's more of a ramble than a post.  It's been the most wonderful, glorious summer, hasn't it... Weather to camp and go to the beach in, warm enough to spend long evenings outside under the stars...(Drinking wine obviously)

It's hanging on in there, too, though the blackberry-laden hedgerows and misty mornings signal that autumn's not long away.
I've just walked our dogs on the Downs, which we're lucky enough to have on our doorstep.  It's a steep, chalky path in dappled shade to the top, where today, tractors are ploughing and hundreds of swallows are gathering to leave us for warmer places.

Talking of which, my daughter's a bit ahead of them - but only just.  She's spending the next three months as a volunteer for a Greek charity looking after ponies.  This was her day yesterday.:
3am get up, get mother up, emotional drive to Heathrow (v emotional).  Find Terminal 5 - easy, spacious, very early, where excited but mostly VERY happy-tearful emotional farewells follow.
Georgie then flies to Athens, takes a bus to Kymi, then a ferry across to Skyros, hoping someone will be there to meet her the other end.  Meanwhile I drove home, feeling a wrench that was physically painful and went to bed.  I won't lie, I cried too, but it doesn't mean I'm not thrilled for her.  The pain went and I think it's fantastic she's there, because it's what life's about and if you can't do things like this when you're 19, when can you?