I think we have a psychic in our blogosphere. It’s Carrie, since last week she asked in the comments section if—to climb to the second floor and answer The Call—there was a trampoline involved.
I’d seen my nine-year-old dangle from the upper railing of the trampoline’s enclosure net. If he could do it, I could do it, too, right? I mean, I’m much taller. Could I hold on to that railing and, with the help of my kids, pull myself up to the terrace?
Well, I just had to.
We pushed the trampoline until it was right next to the wall, and I climbed up through the net—without looking down. So scary to look down. After all, this IS a pretty high second floor. I think the adrenaline of knowing Michelle was waiting for The Call, too, made me get there all right. Because now, I look at the terrace from below, and I have no idea how I got up there.
Finally, I opened the window, and sat at the computer’s desk. And trembled like crazy—my heart thumping as much as I make my MC’s hearts thump in the scary scenes. I clamped my eyes shut, leaned back in the chair and tried to relax. No relaxing thoughts came, though, only the ringing of my computer arrived. The Skype call had started!
I pushed the button to answer.
At first glance, Michelle seemed like an incredibly nice person, and I thought she didn’t look at all like her WriteOnCon picture. (Her hair was shorter and her face appeared even peppier, if possible.) After looking at her, I took a sneak peek at the picture-in-picture to see my own face. Eek—my eyes were bugging out, my jaw practically hanging. I quickly tried a more normal expression, and then we started with the small talk. Which was great, obviously, since I needed to relax.
Turns out I couldn’t even manage a decent small talk. Something like this happened:
-Michelle: “So, Monica, what’s the weather like today there?”
-Me: “Um, warm.” *thinks it’s a great moment to let Michelle look at something else other than a blushing face* “See for yourself.” *Turns the computer’s camera toward the window*
-Michelle: “Oh that’s a nice view you have there. Do you want to see my view?”
-Michelle: *shows me a lovely view of Manhattan.*
-Me: “Oh. A building!” *Thinks: a building?? That’s your best reply??? Duh! Michelle lives in New York, of course there are going to be buildings there! What a hillbilly, Monica! Why couldn’t you say something normal about the view, like Michelle?* *Blushes even more*
Well, you get the picture of what a terrible “small talker” I am.
But luckily, Michelle wasn’t nervous like me and she took up the reins of the conversation and led it through all the agenting process and answered all my silly questions. She even excused me when I just couldn’t pronounce “Paranormalcy” when we were talking about her recent book deals. (Thanks for your patience, Michelle!)
I was so impressed by her enthusiasm about my book, her ideas for making it better, that I knew that she was the one. The perfect agent for me.
So when we hung up, guess what I did???
I honestly don’t remember! I mean, I was so elated, that it was kind of like being drunk. Because the next thing I knew, I was next door, picking up the kids from my mom’s house, screaming that I finally had an agent!!!