How I Got My Agent, Part One

Last month after 16 months of querying, I received and accepted an offer of representation from literary agent Nalini Akolekar at Spencerhill Associates. Writing about your journey to getting an agent is kind of a rite of passage. But as I’ve mulled this over, I’ve decided before I could tell you how I got my agent, it feels necessary I tell you first how I wrote this book.

The journey starts a long time ago when a little girl became captivated with books. As my mother tells it, I was never without one–the car, the dinner table, the bathroom, tucked up under a nightlight way past bedtime (the very reason I had to get glasses when I was nine). The books were my friends that carried me through a difficult childhood, helped me receive scholarships for college, and eventually led me to teach middle school English.

The reading was training to write. And, over the last twenty years, I wrote in secret, starting, but never completing, two novels. I was . . . embarrassed by my desire to write, so much so I didn’t even tell my husband. It was a silly dream and I had more practical matters to attend to–like four children, two of whom are autistic.

Then about five years ago, friends began to ask me, “Why haven’t you started a blog?” Mostly, I think they were tired of reading my long, rambling Facebook posts. One day, I screwed up the courage to start one and I began sharing stories about our lives. With each post I wrote, I fell more in love with storytelling.

Something was tugging at me to write more. I ignored it.

Throughout the two years I blogged consistently, I was invited to a small local writing group. I made excuses–I wasn’t a serious writer after all. Why waste everyone’s time?

Then about two and a half years ago, my laptop began giving me problems until it stopped working altogether. Our budget was too tight to purchase another. Therapy for two children with special needs is expensive and they always come first. I understood, really I did.

But, I was sad. I missed the writing. I missed it more than I thought I would and I realized it had somehow become an important part of my life.

One day in August of 2016, my friend Maria called me out of the blue and asked to meet up for a bit. I had no idea when I arrived that she had a present for me. She and a group of moms hadn’t wanted a broken computer to stop me. So, together, they pooled their money and bought me a laptop.

For me, they said. To keep writing, they said.

I remember this moment clearly because it changed something for me. I’m not sure how to explain it except that new laptop gave me courage.

A few weeks later, I attended my first writing group. I had no idea what I was doing, so I showed up with this blog post. The group read it and encouraged me.

You should write a book, they said. Write about what you know, they said.

Over the next couple of weeks, in between homeschooling three kids, an idea for a story began to form. It was a story I’d spent the last ten years of my life training to write, of a woman and the two children she inherits, one of whom is autistic.

Then, on the laptop a bunch of moms bought just for me, in the minutes of free time I had, in the quiet late, late hours of the night, fueled by caffeine, prayers, and stubbornness, and a passion for writing I’d finally claimed, I started to write.

And I didn’t stop until I finished.

Read Part Two Now:

How I Got My Agent, Part Two

Have you ever taken a leap for a secret dream you wished to accomplish? I’d love to hear about it.

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