“No. I don’t think I did. It sounded like you said that your book is getting published.”
“Our book is getting published!” she half-screamed into my ear.
I don’t know how to describe the feeling inside at those words. It was a mix of wonder, shock, elation, and a healthy dose of disbelief.
Because in what universe was some book two women who had met while one was in ‘witness protection on steroids’ worked on casually for her daughters be getting published.
“You mean like with a publishing house?” I asked to clarify. Anyone could publish nowadays with a computer and an account online. Whether that was good or bad was up to interpretation. It would also somewhat sway the feelings inside if that was the case.
“Yes, dummy. With a publishing house. And an agent. And an editor. And book signings and, ah! I can’t even believe it myself.”
“Wait… how did this happen?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Well, I handed out the copies to the people in Margo’s group. And, apparently, Michelle – she’s the one with two sons with autism,” she explained even though I had never heard the woman’s name before. That was a funny quirk of Auddie’s – she thought everyone knew everyone. Maybe because she did. “Anyway, she loved it. And she has a cousin who is an agent. So she asked if she could send her a copy. I just thought it was sweet, y’know. I didn’t think anything would come from it. Or I would have asked you first. But any who, lo and behold, a few months later, I get a call from Michelle’s cousin Tamara who said she absolutely loved it, that there was a huge market for this kind of book, that she would be interested in working with us to bring it to market. I’m pretty sure I half-deafened her with my scream,” she added, sounding not the least bit remorseful about it.
“That is so awesome,” I said, smiling even amongst the loud argument going on around me. Something about the wife of a Cuban drug lord.
Life could be funny that way, I found.
Success often came when you were least expecting it, when you had all but given up on it.
It liked to blindside you like that.
For a fuller effect, it seemed.
I’d had that moment when I had gotten a call from an actual, real-life A-list celebrity about my handbags, asking me when my line was going to come out.
Everything changed for me then.
So I understood Auddie deafening her new agent.
This was that moment for her.
“I can’t wait to tell the girls when they get home. Oh, hell. I might just go pull them out of school, and take them for ice cream,” she rushed to say, sounding like she was bouncing with excitement. “Oh, and she was wondering if we could do another.”
“Another?” I asked, brows drawn together. That didn’t usually happen, I didn’t think, a publisher wanting the next book before the first one even came out. That involved a lot of risk when they weren’t sure of the reward.
“Yeah! She was thinking maybe one with a male protagonist this time.”
“But the first one isn’t even out yet,” I objected, not sure why I was so unwilling to believe this. But, then again, I had been sure the call from my movie star had been a cruel prank until we started talking about meeting to show her my line.
“I know! She said it was unprecedented, but they had a really good feeling about this, about how the market needs to address these more pressing current issues that parents and their children face. And she wanted me to explicitly tell you that your drawings were some of the freshest ones she has seen in the past few years. She was raving about them.”
There it was again, that rush of feelings.
I don’t think I had ever actually felt them about my design business. I had felt other things – comfort, namely. But I guess because it wasn’t a huge passion of mine, because I didn’t find myself smiling until my cheeks hurt when I sketched up a purse, it wasn’t the same.
I had loved working with Auddie’s story, bringing her characters to life for young kids to look at while their parents read the story.
I had loved it.
And now she was telling me that it was good? Good enough to have a publisher raving about it?
The excitement inside was indescribable.
“I can’t believe this.”
“I know! I’ve pinched myself like twenty times already. I got the call when I was downstairs… and asked the postman to pinch me. Which led to a very uncomfortable stare, I might add, but oh my god. This is… I don’t have words for this. And I have words for everything. You and me, we make a great team!”
“We do,” I agreed, smiling. She had already agreed to coming up to the city for a week when school let out this summer. I had been scouring the internet for ideas for things to do with the girls that wouldn’t over-stimulate them, but be fun at the same time.