The essential piece of
background information to my book deal story is that my literary agent and my
mother-in-law are one and the same person. That’s not quite as strange as it
seems – my MIL, Sheila, runs her own literary agency, so when I was a few
chapters into my first novel I gave it to her to ask her professional opinion.
She loved it, and wanted to represent me, and so we worked out a way of keeping
our family and professional relationships separate and went for it.
Unbeknownst to me, my husband had bullied/bribed/begged his mum to let him know first if I got an offer, so that he could arrange a surprise celebration for me. One Saturday evening we’d just got back from a friend’s birthday barbeque, and I was slumped on the sofa, trying to summon up energy to start making dinner while my husband put our daughter to bed, when the doorbell rang. I heard Thomas answer it, and barely registered it, assuming it would be someone selling something. When I did look up I saw Sheila standing there with a very wide smile and a bottle of champagne. My mind whirled, and apparently I sat there with an attractively gaping jaw for quite some time before brain and mouth connected and I stammered “Oh my God, have I had an offer?”
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