by Gail Barrett

(From the September 2004 issue of the Update.)

March: The phone rings. I find out that book number six has made the finals of the Golden Heart. I’m stunned. I cry on the phone.

I notify Silhouette that the book they’ve been storing for eight months has made the GH finals.

The Golden Heart pin arrives in the mail along with instructions to send in a photo. I prop the pin by my computer so I can stare at it as I work. I make an appointment to have my photo taken.

My photo proofs come back and they are horrible. I anguish over which one to choose since I don’t have time for a retake.

April: At the WRW retreat, I win a tarot card reading with Nora Roberts. The cards predict “big changes” ahead. I hate to get my hopes up, but can the tarot cards possibly be wrong?

May: What should I wear to the GH ceremony? I spend Mother’s Day trying on every dress at Tysons I and II, to no avail. My husband can’t understand why I can’t find a dress when there are so many to choose from.

Silhouette rejects my GH book. I’m crushed, but at least I made the finals of the Golden Heart. I’m determined to enjoy this moment.

Another Silhouette editor sees the book, rescues it from the reject pile, and promises to ask for a second reading.

Our youngest son decides to join the military. My mother falls and breaks her arm. Are these the “big changes” the tarot cards predicted?

I find a sexy outfit at Nordstroms. Unfortunately, my fat stomach ruins the effect. I start doing sit-ups.

June: I survive a two-week trip to Spain with fourteen teenagers by sampling local beverages. My stomach has now expanded, but the wine was definitely worth it. I start exercising again.

July: Silhouette calls, wanting to buy my GH book, the same one they rejected in May. I’m shocked. I can’t stop shaking.

I spend two days phoning and emailing everyone I’ve ever met. I call the agent I met at Harpers Ferry, and she agrees to represent me. I write to the agents who never responded to my queries and withdraw my manuscripts.

My schedule at the national conference suddenly changes. I’m now having drinks with my agent. I’m invited to the Harlequin/Silhouette party. I’m getting booted out of the Golden Network. This is too cool. I don’t want to wake up from this dream.

I waste two valuable writing days shopping for shoes. In despair, I order a pair from a catalog. They look fabulous with my outfit but hurt my feet. I send them back and pack the old stand-bys.

On an impulse, I let my hairdresser get creative. I now have shaggy hair and interesting highlights. On the plus side, I no longer look like my photo.

Is it bad luck to rehearse my Golden Heart acceptance speech? Maybe it won’t jinx me if I don’t say it out loud.

My mother calls romance novels “trite.” I shorten the speech I’ve been mentally rehearsing.

My Spanx “power panties” arrive by UPS, solving my stomach problem.

I go to the Harlequin website and look at the authors’ pages. I try to come up with answers to the interview questions. Do I have a romantic tip?

I tell the cashier at Waldenbooks that I just sold a book. She is so flustered that she can hardly ring up the sale. My first fan!

The conference:

Ten thousand Mary Kay representatives descend on Dallas when I do, creating enormous lines and confusion. It is sadly apparent that I don’t work for Mary Kay. Do they do makeovers?

The conference is fabulous—great workshops, friendly, talented writers. I feel humbled and wish I had something to share.

The editor spends the entire ten minutes of my appointment gushing over the book they just bought. I’m shocked. PLEASE don’t let me wake up from this dream.

I whisper my acceptance speech in the shower.

The big night arrives. I’ve eaten so much during the conference that even the power panties can’t work miracles. Somehow I squeeze into my outfit, but can hardly breathe. No wonder women fainted in corsets.

The awards ceremony begins. I’m shaking so hard I can’t concentrate. I can’t believe I’m sitting in the reserved seating. Nora Roberts is in the row behind me.

I win! I’m dazed. I manage not to trip or flub my speech. I have no memory of leaving the stage and can’t stop trembling. I feel guilty and wish the others could have won, too.

Awareness finally pierces the buzz in my head. I realize that the awards presenters are last year’s finalists. That means I need to buy another dress. Oh, God.

Back home: My husband has become a celebrity at work. My mother still doesn’t approve of romance novels. My revision letter arrives.

I set my Golden Heart necklace by my monitor so I can see it as I write. I decide that all the years, tears, and rejections were definitely worth it. THANK YOU RWA!

~~~~~
Gail Barrett’s book, Where He Belongs, was a 2004 Golden Heart Winner and will be released as a Silhouette Special Edition (date still TBA).