Shaken, not stirred

This week, more than just my celebratory martini was “shaken, not stirred.” While my desire has been to share my book journey toward publishing with as much transparency as possible–including detailing and revealing every success or failure–the roller coaster of events that played out almost daily this past week gave me pause for thought. Last Friday evening, after weeks of revisions, I submitted my proposal to my agent. Celebrating with my cocktail of choice, I settled back to enjoy my weekend and the satisfaction of a job well done. Or so I thought.

The death knell sounded on Sunday afternoon when I received an email from my agent, who three months ago, before the world changed, was broadcasting how great my story was and how it was not only going be bought by publishers but also bought as a film or series to one of the networks. Funny how a little pandemic can change everything.

In less than 30 seconds, it all vanished when I read the words, “This new market condition forces me to withdraw from representing you . . . ” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or cry, so I did both . . . at the same time. It was not a pretty picture.

Now, I could continue this thread by reporting I fell into a pool of despair, railing against the world, and vowing never to write again, but who wants to read about that, especially in today’s world where there are far more pressing and important issues.

Instead, it was time to put on my big-girl pants and figure out my next step.

Taking my now ex-agent up on his offer to help me (short of representation!), I set up a call for the next day. My goal was twofold: To find out why my proposal failed to light the necessary fire my agent said he needed in order to pitch my book and to have him recommend an editor for hire.

“I do have someone in mind, but she’s expensive,” he said. When he told me how much, I wondered if I could scrape up enough cash among the three credit cards that weren’t maxed out. “She’ll bring your proposal up to the standard you need to compete with established, professional authors like Tara Westover.”

“Done,” I replied. Considering I’d been admonished for originally pitching my book as Educated on a boat, unaware the publishing world considered Westover’s memoir as a tour de force literary masterpiece, it seemed like a tall order to fill. Either that or this editor had super powers.

“I’ll have to give her your proposal and see if she’ll even work with you,” he added. Nothing like kicking you when you’re down, I thought. Thank god I spent thirty years as a model and actor, toughening up with industry clients who were as mean as snakes.

“I really appreciate you doing this for me,” I said and added, “because whatever happens, I’m determined to get my book published.”

“If she decides to take you on and your final proposal gets the punch-up it needs, I’ll pitch the book in September.”

Say what??? Will wonders never cease! Guess he didn’t tear up my contract, after all. One more one-eighty along my journey.

Yesterday, after signing a work-for-hire contract to protect my intellectual property, I sent off my check, plunging me further in debt, but in turn landing me a real live editor.

Tonight, I’m having another martini, but this time, stirred.

4 thoughts on “Shaken, not stirred

  1. Wow, that was a story in itself
    I really like your tenacity. Don’t give up. You are a strong person and I would not expect for you to give up anyway. As one strong person to a other. You go girl. It will happen, my dear friend.

    Liked by 1 person

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