It was almost a year ago today that I got the call that knocked me on my butt. I was headed to band practice, when the phone rang. I was running late so the boy answered the phone. I can still remember the look on his face as he came up the stairs.
"You want to take this," he said.
At first I was worried that it was some bit of really bad news, but he was beaming. I took the phone and briefly looked at the caller id. It was a New York number. I don't live in NY and I don't know anyone there, so my heart leapt; it was an agent, at least that was what I hoped. And it was. The agent called at 6 pm my time, so 9 pm his time. He apologized for the lateness of his call and that terse tone to the boy. I honestly don't remember much of the conversation, besides that he wanted to see the whole book and he was very sure he wanted to represent me.
The next several days were a haze. I didn't want to tell anyone, but I was also bursting at the seams with excitement. He read my novel in about a month and offered me representation. I went through the revision process with him, and we were ready to sell.
I have to admit it is strange being in the same place I was 11 months ago or maybe a year ago, depending on what happened to my full ms after he left the agency.