Keep on Keepin' on

Picture it: A book signing at Borders Books and Music about two weeks ago.

My target: Richard Paul Evans.

I dragged Kris and Rosie to Murray on an insane mission. For weeks I had been obsessing over finding someone who knew Mr. Evans, hoping for an introduction. I was coveting his book agent, and hoping for a recommendation that would send my manuscript to the top of her slush pile. After another tenuous connection to Mr. Evans fell through, I decided to just make my own. Since I had been studying his website in an not-at-all-stockerish way I knew that he had a book signing coming up.

The line was much shorter than I had anticipated, leaving me very little time to muster up the courage to talk to Mr. Evans. As people trickled through the door, I let them go in front of me, not wanting an audience.

Finally it was my turn. A few chapters of my book shook in my hand. I opened my mouth and begged the Universe to let something intelligent come out.

"Um," I said. I was off to a great start. "I wrote a book... about my life..." I swear I went on and on for roughly 17 minutes. I couldn't stop myself. The look on his face was painful. He set his pen down on the table and sat back in his chair, simply waiting for me to stop talking.

Then he said, "I don't read manuscripts anymore, since someone sued me a few years ago."

My eyes popped out, and I shook my head. "I would never..."

He held up his hand and finally smiled. "I can still recommend you." He picked up his pen again and wrote down his agent's phone number in New York.

I called the next day, and was told to email the whole book. Then I waited.

And waited.

Most agents had sent me a quick reply that they were too busy, so I tried to convince myself that a 14 day delay was a good thing.

Then the email finally arrived. She was too busy. Best of luck.