It’s been roughly five weeks since I got the wonderful/agonizing news that my book was being presented to the board at Harper Collins for possible acquisition. Since then, I have never been more than a few feet out of range of my phone. I monitor my email by the minute. And yet…no news is still just no news. I realize I need to be relaxed about all of this. What ever will be will be. It’s not easy, though. If the decision from the board goes in my favor, it will be, arguably, the single most life-changing piece of news I’ve ever received.
Well…there was the bit about my wife getting pregnant. Twice. But while that was life-changing (both times), it was also something we were expecting. And the only comment it made about my general worth as a person was that I was, like the vast majority of men, not infertile. Getting published on the other hand means that a lifetime of dreaming and aspiration has not been (entirely) ill spent. It means that I’m not a fool to be pursuing a career that most of my family considers reckless, silly or just plain dumb. It means that a door will open, maybe just a crack, but enough for me to begin shoving myself through.
I’m not imagining I’ll haul in a massive advance and be able to quit my day job or that Oprah will be calling me to discuss my place in her book club–I simply imagine that I’ll be able to walk into a bookstore in a year or so and find my work in the company of that of so many of my heroes. I’ll be able to hold my book in my hands–to see my name on the cover page–to run my fingers over the text and know that ten years of work has had a tangible result. I can call myself a writer, or author, or novelist, and then back that up with something I’ve actually gotten published. I can be what I have always dreamed that I am. That probably sounds horribly maudlin and reeks of pathos, but it’s the best way I can describe this yearning.
Alas. For now, the waiting continues.
Aaron,
I fully understand the desire to see your name on the cover! It’s egotistical to a point, but I don’t feel it’s a bad thing (unless you prance around Borders showing it to the old ladies that just want to find a book about knitting.)
Good luck being able to hold the physical product of your work that came off of someone else’s printer!