Hey, Who Stole My Map And Flashlight? ©
By Linda Broday

Oh, my gosh, what do I do now?

That was my first thought when Kate Seaver at Dorchester /Leisure said she'd like to buy my manuscript, Knight on the Texas Plains, if it were still available. I didn't stutter a bit (that came later on) when I hastened to assure her it was.

But, let me start back at the beginning - I wasn't home when she called because I was having some tests done at the doctor's office. I saw the light blinking on the answering machine when I walked in the door right before noon. I played the message at least five times before I understood someone at Dorchester was calling in regards to Knight. Then, it took half a dozen more before I got the number written down because my poor brain refused to translate the information from my head to my shaking hand.

I dialed the number and the extension I was given. A woman's voice spoke from the other end. Was I in some kind of vacuum? Was this person even speaking English? I understood only every other word of what she said. I found myself repeating everything in disbelief like a total imbecile.

All I can say is, thank God my writing is much more professional than my speaking abilities!

I didn't trust myself to remember anything, so I scribbled it on a napkin. Oh, that's what was on that? More resembled a doormat for a hen's muddy feet. Luckily, I am proficient in deciphering my scribbles and didn't toss it away.

When we concluded our conversation, I calmly looked at my husband and said, "I sold my book." Then, I screamed, gave him the biggest hug of his life, and . . . promptly started crying. From there, so many emotions took turns with my sanity. Euphoric highs to deep sadness and everything in between. You see, a very old friend of mine died on Christmas Eve and wasn't there to share my joy. A romance reader from the days when she worked at a publishing company in Chicago too many moons ago to count, Lola Evelyn was my champion. She read all my manuscripts and, along with my critique group (the greatest bunch of ladies,) offered untold support over the years when I'd get yet another rejection. I truly believe she knows, though, and is turning cartwheels.

On Saturday, after very little sleep, I awoke with a numbing fear. What did I know about negotiating contracts, options on a second book, promotional responsibilities, giving input on cover art, deadlines, or the million other things I'm expected to do? Was I sure I wanted what popped out of Pandora's box?

The answer is "Yes!" My name on a cover and the book on the store shelves is what I've strived for all these years. Being lost in the dark on a strange road is worth every sacrifice, including the hours of solitude spent creating a fantasy world where readers could forget their own troubles for a little while.

Hey, I'm a published author!

I just wish someone hadn't stolen my map and flashlight. I can't see the cliff ahead!


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