A Midsummer Thanksgiving

Oddly enough, as I was working on this post this morning I read Julie’s thank you to her own agent. I’m been thinking recently that I must be a very lucky girl. After all:

I have an amazing agent. She brilliant, savvy, fun, communicative, hard-working, supportive, loyal, comforting, aggressive… the list goes on and on. And I’m sure there are a lot of agents like that. But also, she gets me. When I come up with absolutely outlandish ideas that would likely mystify other agents who aren’t quite as pop-culture savvy, my agent not only jumps on it like it’s a shoe sale, but she expands the idea to be about seventeen times as amazing as I’d originally planned.

I have a terrific editor. I knew from the first time I talked to her that she was the perfect editor for this story. I don’t know if anyone has worked harder bringing this product to market, whether it was fixing punchlines that needed tweaking, talking me through rough plot points, doing mailings, writing quizzes, coming up with fabulous interior design flair that just MAKES the book, or any of the nameless, thankless jobs that go into the production of a novel. She’s the best.

I have the most phenomenal writing friends. My critique partner, Marley, who I think sometimes, impossible as it sounds, might be more excited about this book than I am. Of course, it does indicate the strength of her psychic powers. The email she sent me last spring after reading the partial (which was, I might add, after pitching it sight unseen at a conference) said that this was going to be the book that sold, and it was going to sell on partial. She’s so extraordinarily giving. I admire her ability to put aside whatever crappiness she’s dealing with to celebrate on behalf of the people she loves. Someday, I’ll figure out her trick to it. When life hands her lemons, she makes lemon drop martinis. I can’t wait until her first book is out. I’m so bitter that the rest of you all have to wait until Spring 2008.

My other critique partner, Cheryl, who not only let me live at her house a few years ago, but did me all kinds of favors when I was overseas, and wrote me the most wonderful email earlier this week when I was feeling down about the snail’s pace nature of my writing, and always lets me talk through my writing problems and is the best conference roommate a girl could have. She’s another that makes me feel rather less than generous by comparison. Also, it criminal that you haven’t read her books yet either, since she’s a brilliant writer to boot. Criminal. When it does, it’s going to be so successful. People will dress up like her characters for Halloween. Mark my words. (I’m not as psychic as Marley, but I try.)

I have a great mentor. She took the little blonde, clueless college grad and showed her how to be a pro. She never once treated me like I was less worthy because of my enormous stack of rejections letters. She taught me how you act around writers, around editors, around agents. She asked me for advice when she was stuck on a story issue and she probably doesn’t know how much that meant to me. She valued my little unpublished, untutored opinion enough to ask my advice. But that’s how Julie is. She’s kickass and outspoken and has no qualms about pissing people off if they deserve it, but she’s also got one of the biggest hearts in the business. She’s a natural born leader and she’s smart enough not to give credence to bullshit. I really like that in a friend.

Oh man, the list of writers-I-love could go on and on (mostly about people in TARA).

I’ve got fabulous friends. This point was driven home to me at my college reunion earlier this month. Everyone was so excited about my book. My friends in D.C. are really stepping up to the plate, recruiting all of their friends to come along to the launch booksigning. I may have to order more cake.

My parents are planning me a party to end all parties. Seriously, weep if you don’t live in Tampa. You’re missing out.

I don’t know how I can repay all of these people for all the support they’ve shown me over the last year. I’m sitting here holding my book in my hands and thinking about how it’s my name on the cover, but there are so many people behind it. You can’t even imagine. There should be a credits roll or something. I should buy Crane out of thank-you notes.

Thanks!