When I was trying to get my first book published, I heard that receiving an editor rejection would be an important rite of passage to making me a “real” writer.
After I’d sold, I heard that an embarrassing low turn-out at a booksigning would elevate me to full status inside the published author ranks.
Of course, these statements and $1.69 will get you an iced tea with lemon at Burger King. But nonetheless, I have now officially achieved admission into both those elite clubs. My first editor rejection (from Harlequin) seems like a hundred years ago, but it was just last month, at a Borders about two hours from my house, that I sat (and sat and sat and sat), waiting in vain for the readers to arrive.
But I look happy enough in the picture, don’t I? I was! You see, several members of my family showed up to support me. My husband, my brother’s wife, my husband’s brother, and two nieces. We all bought books and drank coffee, and nodded with collective embarrassment at the people who walked on by me, while I kept telling my relatives out of the side of my perennially smiling mouth that this non-event was actually a good thing, was an important rung on my ladder to The Big Time.
Okay, maybe not. But it sounded good. And I signed every one of the books I didn’t sell in hopes the store manager went on to display them prominently, rather than return them. And hey, I’m still up for more booksignings whenever, wherever. I’m just going to keep bringing the crowd with me.
Anyone have any similar experiences?
What I'm Reading: WAKE by Lisa McMann
How to Hook a Hottie - Book Sense Top Teen Pick
Top Ten Uses for an Unworn Prom Dress - Finalist, National Reader’s Choice Award