For most writers, getting THE CALL may be the single most monumental moment of their lives.
Yeah, yeah...meeting the man of your dreams, getting married, having babies. All happy happy happy. Blah blah blah. (sorry, honey!)
But THE CALL….
That’s something else altogether. That's the stuff dreams are made of. That’s what you’ve been working toward...the moment you know that you’ve actually done it.
A lot of people talk about getting “THE CALL”.
Me, I didn’t get the call, I got “the message”. And actually, I didn’t get the message, my husband did.
I sort of knew that something was coming since after running into my agent at a conference in LA (the first time she actually remembers meeting me!). She tells me that she got a voicemail that morning, and that she might have “some news” for me. She follows that with, but of course we won’t know for sure until next week because she is at the conference for the weekend and the editor who contacted her is out of the office until Monday.
So, some news?!? Hmmm…could be just about anything, right?
But here is how my thought process went: They loved it and want to make a HUGE pre-empt offer on it. Right? That happens, doesn’t it?
OR…they were just calling to say they like it and it’s going to Acquisitions, but that the whole thing could just fall apart at any moment depending on the mood of the publisher/ finance/sales and marketing departments. And then I have to hope to God that no one’s dog dies over the weekend, because a crappy mood could be the kiss of death.
(Am I the only tortured writer out there?)
So as we cut to the next week, I head off on a planned camping trip with the family. And by “camping” I don’t mean the roughing it kind of camping. I mean that we have a fully equipped trailer, complete with shower, microwave, air-conditioning, and flat screen TV kind of camping. I am not the “roughing-it” kind of girl. At this point, my nails are chewed down to nubs that I trust will grow back one day, and I’ve become permattached to my cell phone. I’m checking every five minutes to make sure it’s on. Every ten for new voicemails. Fun times!
That Tuesday, we take the kids to a water park and spend the day in the near-hundred degree sun, and somehow I manage to forget to be on pins-and-needles all day. When we get back, my husband calls our home phone to check messages. And then he gets this look on his face (with really wide, crazy eyes), and he yells, “You got it! You got an offer!”
I was laying down on the bed, and I swear to you it took far too long to process what he was saying or why he was jumping up and down now (in a really manly way, of course). He hands me the phone and lets me listen to the message, which I have to say, I’m not sure I even heard beyond: “We got an offer…”
I tried to call my agent back, but got her voicemail, so at this point, I didn’t even know what the offer was. But, hell, who cared?
I HAD AN OFFER!!!!
I think I might have cried, but I’m not sure. I know that I screamed. I know I jumped up and down with my husband and my kids. I know that, out of nowhere, there was a sign that the kids made for me ahead of time, and a card, and some really warm champagne that my husband had brought along with us (just in case)!
We drank the toasty bubbly out of plastic cups and we talked about the what-ifs, and I think I said “I can’t believe it” about a thousand times.
And quite possibly the best part of the entire night was that we were all together. All five of us in our ridiculously busy family just happened to be in the same place, at the same time, when I got THE CALL.
Definitely the stuff dreams are made of!