Now that you guys went and put Twlight Fall on the Times list for two weeks straight -- Valentin & co came in at #33 on the extended list -- I'm in trouble. Specifically, the folks in NY want to talk to me. Right now. They don't know exactly where I live, but they have all my phone numbers, and they're not afraid to use them.
I have to get myself mentally prepared for these deal-or-no-deal conversations, too, or I'll agree to things I don't want to do, like write a novel every ten minutes. No matter how much money they wave at me, it still takes twenty. Anyway, I'm going to bail on your guys so I can get ready and then make the calls. First I need to meditate, center myself and repeat my professional mantras:
I will be kind and sensitive, and not make those jokes about retiring. When I retire, I will send them a postcard from whatever tropical beach I'm going to sit on for the rest of my existence.
I will not use this as an opportunity to air every single grievance I have had with Publishing dating back my first mean rejection letter in 1975. No matter how much they freaking deserve to sit there and listen to it.
I will not drop hints about how much I want Robin's cover artist to do every cover I have from now until the end of time.
No matter how tempted I am, I will not ask them for a pony just to see how they'd react.
See you all later, hopefully with some good news.