The Call

I have an agent.

Pinch me.

Ouch!! Not that hard.

It’s been about a month since I got “the call” and I’m still in a state of befuddled euphoric bliss.

I can now say my work is represented by Tamar Rydzinski of The Laura Dail Literary Agency.

I’m pausing to let it sink in, again.

Getting the call (or should I say, the first call) is something every writer dreams about at some point during their journey. I never truly visualized “getting the call” but I know I’ve sat rapt, listening round the writer campfire to others spinning yarns about it. And there I was stuffing my face with S’mores, wide-eyed and asking - What’s it like? The phone rang and what? After you picked yourself up off the floor, how did the conversation go? Always left wondering, as I licked the chocolate from the corner of my mouth, what it would be like when (and if) I got my own call.

I wish I could tell you. I wasn’t here for it.

I was standing in line at the DMV, hoping I had all the right paperwork to renew my registration.

After I got home and got the message, I had to listen to it twice. As I listened, my husband came in and launched into a story, when he noticed my glazed over expression he asked me what was wrong. I didn’t even know what to tell him. I got this call. From the agent I sent my manuscript to. I need to call her back. Even as a non-writer, he knew that was big news and told me to call right away.

But I can’t. I explained. I have to pick up X from the bus in five minutes and take X to the doctor and my senses seem to have disappeared as well, but if you see them, scoop them up and put them in a Ziploc till I get home, Okay?

Bus stop and doctor visit later, my senses still not found, I steeled myself to return Tamar’s phone call. You see, I can’t just collapse into joy. I have to analyze the hell out of it. What if it was just a courtesy call? What if she liked my manuscript but it needed a ton of work and wasn’t quite ready? After chasing my tail for awhile, I finally took a deep breath and called.

Tamar loved my manuscript and wanted to take me on as a client.

I still smile when I replay that part of the conversation in my mind.

Lest you think I’ve collapsed into joy, think again. This call is only the beginning. At the moment I’m in a second round of some minor revisions, tweaking a bit here, fine-tuning a bit there. And then my baby goes back to Tamar, for another look. When we’re both happy, my manuscript will go out into the world. And I’ll be sitting here (writing of course!) and hoping for another call.

Next time, I hope I’m here for it!