Grasset-aoutIt’s been a year.

One year to the day from that August morning when I was sitting here at my desk typing away and heard my phone ring. I saw it was a NY area code, and I assumed that it was another recruiter trying to interest me in a temp job at Intel. I almost didn’t answer. But I did, and I got to talk to my kind editor, who said that she wanted to buy my book.

I don’t remember what I said, exactly, but I remember quite clearly thinking how unreal it felt to hear an editor say that she wanted to buy something I’d written. After we’d hung up, one of the first thoughts that crossed my  mind was that if I’d let the call go to voicemail, I’d be able to play the message back. And maybe then I’d believe it.

It took months before I began to accept the possibility that there might actually be a published book in my future. But that distant possibility is starting to get closer and closer… and I’m starting to believe I might actually see a finished book in my hands.

Amazing.