If you have been a reader of Martinis and Minivans for a while now, you probably know that I recently completed my first novel. It was an amazing process that provided a unique kind of therapy after my grandmother passed. Considering one of the main characters is a grandmother figure, she was present in every key I typed and every word I put on the page.
And when I finished it, I started querying agents. I received such amazing feedback and interest and was beginning to start the revision process for the second time when an interesting call came my way.
One of the agents whom I queried, the illustrious Jessica Sinsheimer from the Sarah Jane Freymann Literary Agency, said that she wanted to offer me representation.
But not for my novel.
She had read my freelance work and my blog and felt my voice was the right fit to pen a non-fiction narrative. That we would work on it together. Build it from the ground up.
She believed in me and what I could write.
So I sat on it for a week. I contacted some of the other interested agents, I talked my husband’s ear off until I finally realized he was secretly watching ESPN on his phone as I rattled on and on, and I spent a lot of time pacing my office while listening to that damn catchy “All About That Bass” song.
And after four days, I woke up in the middle of the night sweating. But I realized it was not from nervousness or anxiety – it was from excitement. I turned on my computer and couldn’t stop writing.
I knew what I had to do.
I called up Jessica Sinsheimer and accepted her offer.
And so now it begins.
And what is this book about, you ask?
It’s about being the girl who once told her parents that her lifetime ambition was to take lovers throughout Europe–which now, frankly, sounds exhausting–and how she eventually transformed into a mother who longed to figure out how to turn an ice cream truck into a vehicle that sells wine to fellow stressed out mothers in the middle of the afternoon. But, mostly, it’s a humor book about the challenges and hilarity of charting your own path–even when that means no longer being afraid to live in the strange, and often terrifying, foreign country called “parenthood.”
And my goal is to make people laugh their asses off. (Though, by the size of my ass these days, it obviously is only working on others and not myself.)
I hope you’ll join me on this journey. Because in the end, my goal is exactly what it was when I started this blog – to have you laughing and crying all at the same time. And to show you a different side of parenting – the ones mothers usually only talk about when they’ve had a few glasses of wine and an overnight babysitter. The side about what it means to be yourself–a woman–an individual spirit–in a culture that tries to make it all about the kids and (only when you have time) your husband.
It’s about finding your own kind of martini to drink, the one that only you know how to make, and enjoying it after a long day of carting the kids around in a minivan filled with crushed Goldfish crackers and melted fruit snacks–and knowing that, when you get home and the kids are all asleep – you are still that same girl who dreamed of taking lovers in Europe. (Only now it’s just one lover, and you’re not in Paris but rather Omaha, Nebraska, and you dream of doing it with your yoga pants on in time to watch Dancing With The Stars. Yeah.)
So wish me luck and stay tuned – the fun is just starting!51 Comments