On iTunes: Take Your Time by Al Green and Corinne Bailey Rae
Heart Status: WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
So. I've obviously been cryptic and secretive the past couple of weeks. I sent out my queries, got some responses - I was cooking with gas. One day I'll spill all the deets, but my edit button is working for once and I'm going to hold back. However, here are the basics.
Yesterday at 1:46 PM, the phone rang.
I picked it up to see that glorious 212 area code on the caller ID. My hands started shaking, my mouth got dry, and any ability to speak coherently left my body. Because I didn't know what the person on the other end was going to say. I had spoken with this agent earlier in the week, emailed, etc., and ultimately ended up doing some revisions as kind of a test run to see how things worked between us.
Revisions that literally took me to a whole new level in my writing. Revisions that made me cry, switched on the light bulb, gave me the depth I'd been seeking but hadn't been able to dive to yet. Everyone - writer or painter or dancer or athlete or whatever - knows that the possibility always exists to become better. Sometimes you flail around in "Not-Knowing-Ness" for a long time before you realize something's changed. Sometimes you open a door and step into a whole other world.
The door opened for me. Partly due to CJ Redwine, a CP who is not afraid to push. And then push again. And then push some more. (She's pushy!) And then....BINGO. I was under Emerson's skin and I knew what she needed to hear. So I said it. And the heavens opened and dark chocolate and kittens attached to purple parachutes fell from the sky (which was filled with rainbows made of Necco conversation hearts) and I knew it was good.
I just didn't know if the agent would feel the same way.
Back to the call. I answer, and as we're discussing the revisions, the Spider Monkey, who was resisting nap time when the phone rang, decided that he really wanted some mint chocolate chip ice cream. He got it out of the freezer and brought it to me. To avoid the sound of screaming on my end of the phone line, I dished some out. Then I let him eat it. While sitting on the couch.
As the conversation continued, I noticed Spider Monkey was no longer sitting quietly eating his ice cream. He had moved to the kitchen, where he had dropped his Elmo drawers and was proceeding to create a puddle on the floor. I stopped him in the nick of time, still discussing revisions, and shepherded him into the bathroom.
As far as multi-tasking, I am a master. At least I was yesterday.
Then...the verdict came.
And I am now represented by one Holly Root at Waxman Literary Agency!!!!!!!
She described the tension between Michael and Emerson as "molten lava holy cats." That pretty much did it for me.
Here, I am tempted to write a paragraph worthy of an Oscar acceptance speech. But I won't. I'll save that for the day I sign the contract my kick a$$ agent is going to get us.
Go get 'em, tiger.