So who wants to take a guess what I did with this yesterday?
OK, stop guessing now. And stop staring at it. Really, knock it off.
Here is what I did with my very special penis pen.
That's right, I signed my three-book contract with Sourcebooks, Inc. Four copies of it, 15 pages each, packed full of sentences like:
The benefit of the Author’s warranties and indemnities shall extend to any person, firm or corporation against whom any such claim, demand or suit is asserted or instituted by reason of the publication, sale or distribution of the Works as if such representations and warranties were originally made to such third parties.
Incidentally, I'm going to find a way to use that line in the next love scene I write.
In all seriousness, you probably assumed I signed that thing ages ago, right? After all, it's been almost exactly four months since I announced the sale.
But that's not how publishing works. This is one of many reasons people tell you over and over "don't quit your day job."
And that's certainly not to say anyone screwed up or dragged his or her feet. On the contrary, my amazing agent, Michelle Wolfson, and equally amazing editor, Deb Werksman, have both done an incredible job hammering out the details and thinking of things I would never in a million years dream up. Like who pays for it if a pterodactyl eats all the copies of my debut novel before it can be shipped to bookstores? I'm pretty sure there's a clause in my contract that covers it.
This is why I'm endlessly grateful to have such smart, talented people in my court. I didn't actually realize what a superstar Deb is in romance writer circles until I went to my first RWA meeting and my new chapter-mates gasped, "Deb Werksman is your editor?" with same tone they'd use to ask if Angelina Jolie is my best friend (FYI, she totally is).
And I don't have to tell you how much Michelle rocks. Having her fighting for me and my books every step of the way makes me weep with gratitude that she's my agent.
And also that I'll never have to face her in a cage match.
So there you have it. The contracts are signed, they're going in the mail today, and apparently there's some mysterious object called an advance check that might make its way to me sometime in the coming months.
Rumor has it they might actually be PAYING me to do this.
Oh, and I have a penis pen.
Does life get any better?