bit of history

I 'finished' writing my book quite a long time ago. Oh, mebbe ... 2½ years? – something like that.

Then I entered it into the Finch Memoir Prize: Finch Publishing has you pay 'em a smallish sum and you line up to have your ms considered as worthy (or not) of their Prize. Long time passed. Very long time. But then, I considered the task of the judges in slogging through something like seventy mss, and wasn't surprised. Eventually I visited the Prize's site to find, to my amazement, a list of the shortlisted mss: I'd expected them to advise we (paying!) entrants, at least. ATLMD hadn't made the shortlist, so that was that.

What to do with the ms next?

I spent a long time on-line looking at publishing companies, wondering and worrying about which of 'em to bless with my manuscript – because even though I've read, about a squillion times, of J.K. Rowling's having been rejected by dozens of publishers before eventual acceptance, I Know Me … meaning that any rejection would have me wondering if wrist-slashing or throat-slashing were the better option. I'd already considered both, briefly, after the total Finch failure; but managed to convince myself that not winning a comp isn't the same as being rejected.

Flash of inspiration! – the early part of ATLMD concerns me in my original environment. Perth, Western Australia. And there are two publishing companies that might be interested in a book about someone local (once): UWA Press and Fremantle Press. Hmm ... Another flash! – gotta be the latter: there are several things that tie me to Fremantle itself.

And so that's what I did: I followed the instructions on their website re submitting an ms, and posted off some selections and a cover-note, and very shortly received an email from one of their editor/publishers – Georgia Richter: I refuse, unkindly, to grant her anonymity! – saying she would like to read the whole ms, and would I send it to her as a soft copy please. (Shortly thereafter she emailed again to say not to hold my breath just yet, as the ms would be going to an editorial meeting in days, after which the breath-holding could commence: is that civil, or what?)

But there was hardly any need to go red in the face, for a 'phone call ere long revealed the noos that Fremantle Press wanted to publish my book.

And the rest is – no, not history, not yet. I suppose I can say that the time that's passed since that momentous moment IS history – the editing, the proof-reading, the arguing about teeny things, the suggestions, the defence of the book's original title … oh, so many things! – but the whole thing is still ongoing, still struggling along until it hits the streets at the beginning of the month after next. And until that time, or until Fremantle Press has some idea of how it's selling, there ain't no history, not really.

I have a number of anecdotes to tell about the things that happened before Fremantle Press came into my life – some of which do not reflect well upon certain Web entities – and tell them in this arena I shall. WTS.   :-)