And the idea was born.
Fast forward two months and D and I are plotting faster than I can type, shouting things like "Wouldn't it be great if...!" After a few months of some feverish writing, we have a complete draft.
We send it out to a very small press publisher and we get back a two-page email rejection--one of those really great rejections that encourage the author to fix some things and send it back. At the time, I didn't realize that there were different levels of rejections, so I just threw that one in the drawer with all of the poetry rejections I'd received through the years, thinking that our dream of publishing was a no-go.
So, life went on. I finished my doctorate, which kept me really busy with boring academic "scholarly" stuff, and D returned to school to pursue medicine (even more boring academic scholarly stuff--but with chemistry). And we forgot about the manuscript.
A couple years later, I unearthed that really great rejection. And having some time on my hands--post doctorate, I went to work on the manuscript, revising it in the ways that the publisher requested. By the time I was ready to send the now much-improved manuscript out again, though, the publishing house had closed. Damn!
So, as I was preparing to send it to the really small presses (you know the ones in the back of someone's van), D stopped me. "The publisher you most respect, send it to that one," she said. "And then work your way down the list." Occasionally, she can be very Spock-like logical, despite her artsy, creative self. The publisher was a no-brainer as my bookshelves were overflowing with Bella Books authors. My absolute favorites were (and still are) Karin Kallmaker, KG MacGregor, and Gerri Hill.
Following the Bella Books submission guidelines, D and I made some more revisions, adjusted the formatting of the manuscript, and sent it out (with fingers crossed). Then we waited. And we waited some more--for what we thought was going to be a "Thank you for your submission but your manuscript doesn't meet our present needs" or something equally devastating. Only it wasn't. We got another one of those fantastic rejections, telling us that they liked our story and would be happy to reconsider it after some revisions. And guess whose name was on the letter? Karin Kallmaker, the editorial director of Bella Books. I almost fainted on the spot. Well, we weren't going to make the same mistake twice so we immediately went to work on the revisions and turned it around in less than a week. And then we waited some more.
Fast forward three months and there's an email in my inbox from Karin Kallmaker (dear god!) asking if she could contact me by phone to discuss the manuscript. I, of course, had to be revived with paddles (it's a good thing D's studying medicine).
A few days later, the Karin Kallmaker called me (on my cell)! And I tried very hard to not sound like a giggling teenager completely infatuated with the woman on the other end of the line. Perhaps one day she'll tell me if I succeeded. :)
'So where are we now?' you ask. Well, we've worked with a fabulous editor--knowledgeable, experienced, smart, funny, and as nice as can be--the magical Medora MacDougall--who helped us to smooth out some of our rough edges and beautify the manuscript for Bella and the readers. And here we sit--with an August book release date looming large on the horizon.
The moral of this story is if you're floating in a pool right now talking excitedly about a book you just read and someone casually says, "You should write one," you should listen. Seriously. Write one. Write a good one. And send it out into the world.