DEBUT AUTHOR SERIES
Last time I left you on a cliffhanger, didn’t I? Sorry.
If you are tuning in for the first time (Hi! I like your shoes), read Part 1.
If you’ve been here before, let’s crack on.
Quick recap: Agent sends my manuscript to publishers. HarperCollins are peachy keen. We catch up. I don’t say anything weird. Publisher says she’ll take it to the next acquisitions meeting. A week later, my agent emails me with the subject title – DON’T PANIC!
How do I respond?
By panicking, obviously.
I speed read the email and exhale. It isn’t the ‘no’ I’m dreading. Instead, she's keeping me in the loop. The publisher was out of the office for a few days and didn’t have time to put together the proposal for this week's acquisitions meeting. That means they will present it at the next meeting. Thank gawd they have them weekly. My poor heart can’t take this.
The waiting game continues.
It’s a week of positive self-talk to manifest a ‘yes’ and then swinging into self-preservation mode to convince myself it’s not the end of the world if it isn’t.
I busy myself with work, writing, and pretending to care when my eldest son talks about Roblox. I’m a brilliant actor, by the way.
Tuesday arrives—acquisitions meeting day.
Radio silence.
That’s bad, right?
I refresh my emails until my throbbing index finger begs me to stop.
Wednesday rolls around and I front up to my laptop like I do every morning to write. I squeeze out words like they’re the last blob of toothpaste. I’m too in my head about the outcome.
At 11:04 AM my phone dings. It’s a text from my agent asking if I’m free for a quick chat. That’s odd. She never messages. I let her know I’m available now. As I wait for the call, I reread her text like I’m trying to crack the Da Vinci Code.
She takes an excruciating three minutes to call, which is enough time for me to unravel. I walk around my lounge room in circles, shaking and crying. There’s not an ounce of positivity in me. My thoughts gallop ahead with it's going to be a no. The team hates it. No other publisher will want it. The story is shit. I'm shit. Why did I have the audacity to think I could do this? The phone finally jingles. Deep breaths. Deeper. Don’t you dare cry in front of her.
‘Hello,’ I say, cautiously.
‘Hi, Holly!’ she sings like she’s not about to destroy my life.
0.01 second pause. Heart attack pending.
She continues. ‘I have good news …’
My soul leaves my body.
HarperCollins is offering me a book deal. We chat for a while and I take in nothing. I’m in shock.
What does one do after they get a publishing offer?
Well, if you’re me, you open the fridge and stare at the contents. Repeat the same with the pantry and then move on to the linen cupboard.
My phone rings again. Who could that be?
‘Congratulations, Holly. You’ve been shortlisted for the Hawkeye Publishing Manuscript Development Prize.’
Whaaat?
The judge tells me she loved the story and read the entire thing in five hours. It’s so nice to hear, but now I have to deliver her some bad news. As per their competition T&Cs, entries cannot be under contract with a publisher. Fair enough. This is a developmental prize with the opportunity for publication. I withdraw my manuscript before the final round because I will undoubtedly accept the HarperCollins offer in the near future.
So here I am, thinking wow, my manuscript got an offer from a publisher and was shortlisted for a National Award. Can this week get any better?
Yes. Yes, it can.
The next day, I receive another call. It’s from the Queensland Writers Centre.
‘Congratulations, Holly! Your manuscript has been shortlisted for the Adaptable Award.’
They invite me to Brisbane to pitch my manuscript to film and television professionals.
‘Can you please repeat that?’ I ask.
The good news is I don’t have to withdraw from this competition. It’s the final round and they accept unpublished and published stories.
So again, what does one do when they receive a book deal and two shortlistings in a 24hr period?
Have a nap. I'm so bloody exhausted.
I decide to lie on my bed for a minute. Three hours later, I wake up.
The Epilogue
Now that I’ve shared all the good bits, I want to share some of the not so great parts. I’ve gone back and forth about including this, but honesty is important and it might help someone else prepare for this experience.
While the outcome was more than I could ever dream of, the prolonged stress of waiting to hear from the agent and then the publisher was like nothing I’ve ever felt.
I'm sure you're a clever cookie and have picked up on the fact that I'm a highly anxious person (hence the spiralling). One way I deal with this is by controlling my environment. That's why I have a strict routine and schedule my entire day. That's also why my desk is obsessively neat. I'm not trying to achieve Insta-perfection, I'm avoiding a meltdown. So when I went through this uncontrollable process, it manifested into horrible physical symptoms.
Messed up cycle
I got my period twice in a month. The only other time that’s ever happened was when my baby screamed for six hours straight on a plane. We’re trauma-bonded for life.
Excessive hair loss
I was afraid to brush my hair. My messy bun looked like a bird’s nest.
Weight loss
Our school crossing guard asked what diet I was on. Umm, severe stress? Don't recommend it.
Side note: When you notice someone's lost weight, ask them if they're okay instead of assuming it's a good thing. Yeah?
Abdomen pain
I had a constant stabbing pain in my abdomen that I eventually went to the doctor for. I know, I know. I’m shithouse when it comes to my health. There was no medical explanation for it.
Pimples
The bastards started a colony on my chin.
Brain fog
Productivity was at an all-time low. Any words that I wrote during that time came out painfully slow.
Sleep
Ha! What's that?
I had convinced myself it was perimenopause however, once I no longer had any stressors (i.e. not on sub), all those symptoms disappeared. My hair was thick and lush again, albeit greyer, but I think my children can take the blame for that.
P.S. I'm feeling a little vulnerable about sharing all this. I'm going to be weird about it for a week or so. Cool, cool?
What’s next?
Next month, find out what happens after the book deal and why I kept it a secret from my mum for over two months.
Subscribe to The Wrap-Up for the next instalment of the Debut Author Series.
Comentarios