My first, and latest, novel releases tomorrow!
What do I mean by that? My newest novel, That Missed Call, will be released by Between the Lines Publishing tomorrow, and I can’t wait!
This novel was the first complete novel I ever wrote, started in 1993, when I was a stay-at-home mom. Our Sam didn’t believe in naps. Frankly, he found the world too interesting to waste time on sleeping. He would, however, take time each day when he would happily listen to music (Yanni and Meatloaf), play with toys, or look at books in his crib. He would babble away, and I would sit nearby, working on our old Mac computer.
The story of Kat and Alex started from a snippet of a dream. As it came to life, it took many strange turns and twists. Over the years, I kept revising it and sending it out to agents and publishers. My first full manuscript request made me scream with joy and excitement.
One day, an agent responded to my query. He liked the general story, but wanted me to make some major changes if I wanted his representation. At that time, it was entitled The Dirty Dishes, and it started with Kat stepping in dog feces while running. After all, in the 1990s, that was a true hazard in New York City! I took the agent’s suggestions to heart, revised it, and for a short while, he half-heartedly represented it.
Another round of major revisions, and the process started over again. Then again. Then again.
Then Sam died. Twenty years had passed since I started the book, and with Sam’s death, I stopped writing completely.
Except I couldn’t stop. I love to write. And that story, by then called The Phone Call, was part of my DNA as a writer, and was part of Sam’s legacy. I needed to see the process through, so I hired a superb editor, and within weeks of that editing process, I had my first publishing contract.
That day, the day of being offered a publishing contract, was one of the most emotional days of my life. I screamed with joy. I cried. I jumped up and down. Other than my husband and our youngest son, I didn’t tell anyone that day, wanting to wait until the contract was signed.
Then I went to the cemetery and told Sam all about it. And I cried again. He had so believed in me and my writing, and I so wanted to hug him with joy.
Fast forward to now, and what was once The Phone Call, is now That Missed Call. It is not the same book in so many ways, as so many talented professionals have worked with me to bring it to this point. So while it is somewhat of a re-release, it is actually what I would refer to as a rebirth of a story that started with a snippet of a dream so many years ago.