Back when I used to work for somebody other than myself for a living, I managed to earn a promotion or two (God knows how). The sweetest (albeit briefest) times, I came to realize, were those between the announcement of the promotion and the morning the new duties started. Flattering memos! Attaboys! Drinks on us!
I’m now in the writer’s equivalent of this golden moment, with the minutes ticking away. A few days ago, I got word that St. Martin’s/Minotaur will publish what is known for now as Purgatory Chasm, a Conway Sax novel. The glorious phone call was delivered by Janet Reid, the best agent in the world, who’s spent the past two and a half years working her tail off on my behalf for payment totaling … let’s see … zero dollars and zero cents (unless you count holiday chocolate bribes).
Is it a thrill? A dream come true? Am I walking on air? You bet!
But only for a few more hours. Tomorrow at 7:30am, I plant myself in the chair and stay there for 1,500 words, as per usual. The twist will come later in the week, when I have el editorial meeting grande with my terrific Minotaur editor. After that I’ll need a split schedule, writing fresh words for the book in progress while revising Purgatory. And before you know it I’ll want to get cracking on the next book, and my website very much needs freshening, and there’s the small matter of the business I can’t ignore …
I suppose all this will wipe the silly grin off my face. Eventually.