The Words You’re Hoping to Hear

Recently I read a small graphic book, Make Trouble from a commencement speech delivered at the Rhode Island School of Design by designer/film maker/artist/idea-ist John Waters. One line that stood out: A career in the arts is like a hitchhiking trip: All you need is someone to say “get in” . . .

This really resonated with me, a middle-aged been at this a long time writer who seemed to have some early success, but had stalled out and turned to writing about writing ie Freeze Frame and Flash Memoir: Writing Prompts to Get you Flashing. I’d definitely put in my 10,000 hours, plus. And, now all I was looking forward was someone to email me back with the right words, the words I’d been hoping to hear for a good decade.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. I’d sent this poor, page-stained, corners curled digital manuscript out to numerous untold agents. With no luck. Those who say it isn’t luck, that luck means you have no real talent are already well on the road to publication, having solo shows, etc. I needed a miracle, a lightning strike of good fortune—a bit like how my first manuscript was pulled out of the slush pile and published by a respected editor at Morrow Junior Books.

Time and technology has assured me since that 1) there is no transom or slush pile in the world of digital submissions and 2) even if there was a portal, that door has long been slammed shut to citizen writers without representation.

I was having trouble making inroads after the initial publication and good reviews for my YA novel Beyond Paradise. Morrow merged with Harper Collins a few weeks after my debut novel released and, well, let’s just say hot dogs have a longer shelf life than my book.

Until—last month I got a phone call. Wait. Listen. Because my editor at Golden Alley Press said the words I’d been hoping to hear: I love this manuscript. It was a car pulling off the freeway, the driver motioning for me to get in.

Then something else happened: She said, It made me laugh. Then it made me cry.

Dear readers, thanks for reading this blog, for continuing to persevere and pushing me along. Get ready; we’re going on a ride. Tentative pub date, Fall 2018.