A bittersweet anniversary

Five years ago this morning, I received the most devastating news that changed my world forever: I learned my mother had passed.

I don’t know how I recovered from it. I didn’t think I ever would. It took a long time (and therapy) to get back to functional.

So that’s the bitter part. The sweet? Today will now mark the anniversary of when I became an agented author.

I got the email early this morning, about the same time I got that awful call five years ago. My 5-year-old woke up at around 3AM asking me to cuddle him.

“I felt something rubbing my back,” he said when I asked if he had a bad dream, “and so I woke up.”

I like to think that was Mom paying him a visit.

As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t able to get back to sleep. I checked my email, checked Twitter, played my turn on Words with Friends against my husband, and emailed my dad to wish him a happy 70th birthday.

And then I saw that I had unread email. And it was from the agent I had been stalking studying following on Twitter after I’d read some interviews and decided she was The One.

I promised you to get back to you by today and well, I literally JUST finished your manuscript — and my heart is beating like crazy.  I loved it, I really did (I also think I might have an unhealthy crush on Tim!). So yes, I’d like to offer you my representation.

Commence freak out… NOW! Because after reading those last 7 words (and especially as she is leaving on a huge world tour tomorrow), sleep wasn’t exactly going to pay me another visit.

That’s all I’m willing to share right now, as I have a call with her at 11:30. I’ve really only got a handful of questions for her now before I sign the agency agreement, but there’s always that chance (however slim) that we may meet via Skype and decide it’s not the right fit, after all.

(To be continued…)


  1. Robin Hall

    So excited that you found an agent in love with your MS. Welcome to Team Weber. And I’m so glad you have a happy to add to this day. Doing a happy dance for both you AND Julia.

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