The path to becoming a publisher writer...

St. Patrick’s Day is the anniversary of a very important day in my life.

18 years ago, this morning, I was getting ready to hit rush hour traffic to go into work at an insurance company where I directed litigation and prepared arbitrations for commercial lines recovery.

I’d written five complete novels by then and accumulated over a hundred rejection letters from agents and publishers that ran the gamut from the coldly impersonal, to the wonderfully inspiring: “We love your writing BUT the book is just too sexy for us.” (This from Kensington Press back in the 90’s when there still was such a thing as too sexy.)

I’d already landed an agent who’d been submitting my first (fifth) novel to various publishers and we’d gotten loads of rejections. I was hanging onto a dream, living on a prayer, driving a car that was about to fall apart.

A few days earlier, the eight-thousand-pound gorilla, Random House had called my agent to say they were…intrigued. Yet, no offer had come.

I grabbed a late lunch and was eating at my desk so I could keep working, tuna fish sandwich, pickle and chips. When the phone rang and it was my agent, I braced myself for an update on all the rejections I was acquiring. I was certain this was going to be the phone call where she let me down gently about Random House, and possibly a few other publishers on our list.

It wasn’t. It was ‘the call.’ The one that changed my life. Random House made an offer for not only my first book, but a second one I hadn’t written yet. They wanted to know if I was open to editorial critique (hell yes) if I was willing to learn and evolve (hell yes).

I wrote the details of the offer on the only thing my numb brain could find: the tuna-and-mayo-stained napkin on my desk. It’s framed in a shadow box on the wall above my desk. After seven years of struggling, five books, endless rejections, friends and family urging me to give up and ‘get real,’ I’d finally made progress.

The next few months flew by, I walked around in a dreamy, productive daze, writing my second novel, learning about the fascinating business of publishing: edits and galleys, arcs and cover art.

And reviews.

I was still working at the same company a few months before my first novel went on sale, when it occurred to me that someday soon, I’d be able to do a yahoo search (google hadn’t been invented yet) and find out what reviewers thought of my book. I idly typed in the title, not expecting anything and was stunned to discover a review of my first novel had already been posted.

The reviewer hated it. Despised it. Tore it into tiny little bloody book pieces.

I concluded I was going to have to run around to every bookstore and buy all my books back the second they hit the shelf so the world wouldn’t discover what an imposter I was, and what a terrible mistake my publisher had made, investing in me. I sank into a depression and stayed there until I finally reasoned at least it was over: I’d gotten that terrible review everyone dreads. Surely the next one wouldn’t be so bad. Right?

Wrong. Days later, that same review site posted a second review of my first book that had not yet been published. This reviewer hated it even more, and was equally adamant about the flaws with it, with me, and the entire world that had published me.

A few months later, that book went on sale and performed brilliantly, earning out the advance plus much more, taking the Waldenbooks best debut romance novel of the year and getting nominated for two RITA awards.

But that’s not what I remember. I remember those two first, terrible reviews. And I’m grateful for them. They taught me so many things, fresh out the gate.

1. Don’t listen to your own press, good or bad. Be the best you can be.

2. Keep striving to perfect whatever inspires your passion.

3. Be demanding yet gentle with yourself. Nurture the joy and unique perspective you bring to whatever you do.

4. NEVER give up. Nothing is impossible—until you decide to believe it is.

18 years ago, as I was getting dressed for work in an apartment a few miles from here, I had a quote taped to the front of my computer: “When you chase a dream, the universe conspires to help you get it.”

It’s still taped to my computer today.

Whatever your dream is, chase it. Don’t listen to anyone else. They don’t know you. Run like hell after it and give it your best effort to grab it with both hands. Your future self will thank you for all your hard work today.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day. Make it the anniversary of one of your dreams coming true.