Regular readers will remember me trilling recently about the fact that MLR Press is going to publish a novella I’ve written.
Now, as if that wasn’t enough to make my heart pound, I have also signed a contract with another publisher for my paranormal m/m romance set in Yorkshire in 1851 (I wrote about how it felt to submit it here).
I feel as if the magician from the book just tossed a stun charm at me.
I mean, I’m proud of it. I thought it was good. But still.
I signed the contract yesterday, but it’s taken me until today to write this post because I’ve been drifting around in a daze. It’s only beginning to sink in that soon I will have two published works to my name. I’ve wanted this since I was about seven. I’m now old enough to have naturally acquired a Bride of Frankenstein white stripe in my hair.
I’m so delighted that occasionally I have to jump up and down with my fists clenched, grinning like an idiot. The Cheshire Cat has nothing on me today.
Oh, there will be champagne! There will be dancing and flowers and paper lanterns. There will be expensive delicacies and party streamers and giddy silliness.
But first I want to thank my beta-readers, who took the time to read my nascent novel and tell me honestly what they thought. That’s not always easy, because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings, but they did it anyway because they knew it was more important to be truthful than tactful. I doff my hat to you. I couldn’t have done it without you.
I want to thank the writers who talked to me about writing and plot and characters. They took me seriously, and that helped me take myself seriously. Thank you, comrades!
And I want to thank my partner, who discusses magic and history and words with me, and who says things like ‘don’t worry about making dinner, go and write’. That’s true love, if ever I saw it. He’s the reason I can write romances.
And in case that’s too lovey-dovey for you, I would also like to thank the nay-sayers.
I can do this safely, because none of them will ever read this. But they helped me too. The boyfriends who condescended to me when I said I wanted to write for publication (trust me, if you’re reading this, you’re not one of those boyfriends). The various people who said things like ‘well, it’s nice you have a hobby’ or who simply smiled in a superior, disbelieving way when I told them my dream. They helped because I wanted to prove them wrong. I would remember them, sometimes, when I felt like giving up. They didn’t think I could do it, and I have. Not once, but twice. In your face, doubters!
Thank you, evil twin. Now please go away. This is meant to be a positive, celebratory post.
So, if you’re out there, reading this, feeling you want to write, but somehow never doing it, or losing heart because it seems too hard, I hope some of my soon-to-be-publishedness (yes, that’s a word, damn you autocorrect) rubs off on you. I hope one day we’ll be drinking champagne because you’ve just signed a contract with a publisher.
Believe me, nothing tastes so good!
Amazing, right? Both books found a home! Please marvel with me in the comments below (apologies if your comment doesn’t show up right away. I am probably dancing on a table somewhere, but I will get to it ASAP I promise!)