So, I got a little click-happy on Amazon this week and stocked up on reading material.
First, I bought these:
Because The Hating Game sounded like a funny rom-com and the more I read about The Lunar Chronicles, the more I felt I needed to give them a read.
Then things got a little weird.
Next, I bought this:
Because I thought, well gosh, I’d like a quick little primer on astrophysics!
And then, because no one was there to stop me, I bought this:
Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and the Quest for the Ultimate Theory?? Shut up. You had me at superstrings.
Because I thought – you know what’s been missing from my life? A basic understanding of theoretical physics and quantum mechanics!
So, yes. I’ve greatly overestimated my intelligence in my recent book-buying excursion. Although, I do know that string theory is not a game children play with yarn, so I feel like I’m starting with the proper foundation.
Well, I’ve had my broadcast TV phase, my lawyer phase, and my writer phase. Maybe this will be the start of my astrophysicist phase. Just kidding. I hear they make you do math.
I read an article by an author who said never – never – read reviews of your book online.
Okay, but did he mean like never ever? Or just kind of never? Because never seems sort of impossible, right? (For a slightly neurotic, first-time author like me it proved to be, anyway.)
And I looked. That’s right. I read them all.
Here’s the funny thing about reviews of your book – a good review makes you smile and puts a spring in your step. For about a day.
A bad review is like that popcorn kernel that gets stuck between your tooth and gum that you can’t seem to dislodge no matter how hard you try…because the popcorn kernel is in your soul. Giving you something to poke at late at night when you’re trying to sleep.
So even though there are substantially more good reviews out there, the few bad ones are the ones that got under my skin. Which is probably why that author said DO NOT READ THEM! A-ha. If only I had the ability to listen to sage advice when it is presented to me.
Oh well. Some of the good ones make it all worth while.
Lisa over at LostInLit called it “Hilarious, Witty and Quite Charming.” And Lisa (I know – I’m winning with ‘Lisas”!) over at LisaLovesLiterature gave it 5 stars! And Becky on Goodreads said I “hit it out of the park!” Megan over at ReadingBooksLikeaBoss added me to her “Book Recommendations” tab! And then I found this young woman who goes by The Lone Reader who did a very funny and enthusiastic video blog about it. If I can make anyone rattle on that fast about my book, I certainly should be able to overlook a few naysayers.
So if *you* have read my book – and liked it – please leave me a review 🙂 (And I’ll try to keep myself from reading it). If you read it and didn’t like it – my name is spelled N-i-c-h-o-l-a-s-S-p-a-r-k-s. Be sure to get that part right.
Here’s a guest post I wrote for my publisher’s blog! 🙂
Erin Lyon, author of I Love You Subject to the Following Terms and Conditions, gets legal with some classic romantic pairs.
Source: Lawyers Should Not Write Romance Novels
Just like that. I have a title. And a cover. And a description that is a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster in that it’s partially my original story pitch and partly what “they” came up with (whoever “they” are that tinker with these things at the publishing houses).
So, sure, it felt pretty real when I got the deal. And it felt a little more real when I signed the contracts. And then it felt realer still when I got that first advance check.
But, I must say, this sort of hit a new level of “oh my god – this is really happening!” Which is a pretty good level.
And, about the time the actual book cover showed up on my publisher’s website (Forge is part of Macmillan), it showed up for PRE-ORDER on Amazon and Barnes & Noble and even popped up on Goodreads!
Oh – and I now have my official release date: January 10, 2017.
So, I’m gonna ride this high until I get my copies of the galley (Advance Reading Copies) and am actually holding a copy of my book in my hands and then I’ll write a post about how that’s the realest real yet! I know. You can hardly wait.
Look at it this way…I’ll probably be a lot cooler on my next go-round. But this time? I’m gonna enjoy every, little, teeny, tiny step. Because it took about 15 years to get here 😉
For those of you that don’t know – I’m going to give you the five-cent description of my novel. It is, at its heart, a romantic comedy about Kate Shaw, a 30-something starting over as a new lawyer (don’t get carried away drawing author parallels – besides, I’m 40-something). The twist is that, in this slight alternate reality – marriage doesn’t exist. All relationships are based on 7-year contracts which can renew or expire (or, more likely, wind up breached). So, much like there are men in our world who only date married women, this world has similar men who only date women already under contract. These men are called…wait for it…contract killers. Get it? (And yes, I realize women can be contract killers, too.) But, beyond this, it’s about Kate and her funny love life and her even funnier lawyer life.
Okay. Long story short, The Contract Killers was the name of Book 1 of the trilogy. The concern has been raised that this title sounds too thiller-y and might mislead the potential audience. So we need to <gasp> RE-TITLE the book. (Cue the Death Star music.)
While I loved my original title, I definitely see the need to change it. But how? I’ve spit-balled about 30 suggestions at my agent and editor but nothing is hitting home. So, while my manuscript is already in copy-editing and art is working up the cover design – I HAVE NO TITLE. Which is giving me anxiety.
So now – I’m putting it out to you. Because you are brilliant and creative, and had the perfect title all along that you didn’t even know you had. And because you want to be sure I include your name in my acknowledgments.
Apparently, when you are rep’d by Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency, you become a member of the Wolf Pack. And, once my announcement came out, the other members of the Wolf Pack informed me of a Wolf Pack tradition. They told me Michelle’s authors put a streak of color in their hair when Michelle gets us a book deal. Shenanigans, right? Have no fear. I insisted on photographic evidence. Which was happily provided.
And since I have never been one to tempt fate – or miss an opportunity to do something ridiculous with a totally valid excuse – or, frankly, resist peer pressure when I don’t feel like it – here is my new writer’s streak.
And since, as Linda Grimes put it, some judges are lacking in a sense of whimsy, I strategically placed it so that it could be overlooked in court. Unless I meet a super whimsical judge, in which case, game on.
Man, this writing thing is a long and winding road. And this is the moment you dream of but doubt will ever actually happen…the book deal.
I was lucky enough to gain representation from the amazing Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary and now we officially have a book deal! We just signed a deal with Tor Publishing for the first two books of my trilogy, The Contract Killers. (Which, despite the title, is actually a funny romance with a twist.)
So this wanna-be published author just became a gonna-be published author and dreams really do come true if you stick with it long enough and never give up.
Damn it, Mom. You missed it by four months. And you believed this moment would happen more than anyone. I ❤ you always.
Although I would settle for you making everyone else less funny so that I seem funnier by comparison.
My husband is a big Joel Stein fan and just bought his book “Man Made.” He told me I had to read the intro. Just the intro. It’s hilarious. Well, turns out, Mr. Stein’s intro is funnier in four pages than I am in 41 years. I’m not certain of the conversion rate on those two units of measurement, but I’m pretty sure it makes me sad.
Because you can’t fake funny. Some people just are. I am not. I do have funny moments. When I’m drinking. Because alcohol
makes me funnier makes me think I’m funnier. But the rest of the time? My cat is funnier than I am. (In my defense, though, she is hilarious.)
Although, according to my friends, I do excel at being unintentionally funny which is better than nothing. And probably puts me somewhere between Sponge Bob and Ruth Bader Ginsburg on the funny-meter.
But, not to worry, it only has 36 followers. So I’m apparently not servicing myself all that well (that sounds a little dirty). Here’s your definition (lest you thought I was kidding about my infatuation with dictionaries):
self-serving (adjective) \-ˈsər-viŋ\ : serving one’s own interests often in disregard of the truth or the interests of others
Ouch. I have to disagree with the “disregard of the truth” part since I obviously use this bitch to overshare constantly.
And why is it self-serving? Because 1,000 literary agents tell you that you ought to have a “platform” from which to market yourself. So me and 500,000 other aspiring authors just like me (yes, your mother lied – you are not special) run out and create blogs in hopes of building a platform. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that my 36 blog followers are not going to land me a coveted book deal. I suspect you need more like 36,000 followers before an agent gives a shit about your platform.
Bottom line? I’m only mildly interesting and occasionally funny (but only in writing – one of my BFF’s assured me that I am not at all funny in person). But I’d like you to help me serve myself and follow me anyway.
I say “I’m so happy for you!” constantly. The good, selfless part of me means it implicitly. The other 90% of me, however, probably only means it if it was something I didn’t want, anyway.
“You’re pregnant? I’m so happy for you!” Totally genuine. Thank God it’s not me. “You’ve decided to go to law school? I’m so happy for you!” Having doubts about your intelligence, but still, mostly genuine (even more so if I don’t really like you and I know that you will be hating yourself and the world in general for the next three to four years). “You’ve decided to give up drinking? I’m so happy for you!” Genuine (and we likely won’t be hanging out any time soon).
“You’re being published? I’m so happy for you!” Basically waiting for lightening to strike me down in the middle of my kitchen. Like I said, 10% of me? Actually pleased for your good fortune. 90% of me? Petty, jealous asshole. Who wants it to be me, not you. Who wants to know how someone could have picked you over me. Who, thankfully, is a skilled actress who can pretend the shit out of being happy for you. Cause 10% of me is. (Yes, yes, I know. I really need to work on my asshole ratio. It’s on my to-do list.)