Are You Sitting Down?

And the winner of the $10 gift certificate from Barnes and Noble, the pack of note cards and the autographed copy of Divorced, Desperate and Delicious is... Kimmie! Kimmie, please visit my website, www.Christie-Craig.com, and send me an email with your snail mail address and I'll get your prize out to you ASAP. Congrats!

Crime Scene Christie


I got the email from Gemma a while back, suggesting that for Killer Fiction’s anniversary week, we all blog about our “call” stories.My first thought was, “Sounds great.” Although, I think I might have blogged about that before.

Then a little voice in my head—a voice which had been forbidden to speak—fought to free itself from the dungeon of my mind, “But you’ve never blogged about the first ‘call’ story.”

Oh, no, I hadn’t ever blogged about it. I had, for apparent reasons, tried to bury the memory beneath cement, had barred the memory from my mind, and vowed to never, ever, let it become public knowledge. Of course, that vow was made before . . . before I got to that place in my life that I decided that there were no secrets, no shame, that where my career and fans were concerned, their was nothing I couldn’t, wouldn’t talk about.

Yes, I sort of have two calls stories—there’s the recent one that brought me back into novel publishing, and it’s motivational, inspiration.

Most recent call—2006

I’d been entering unpublished novel contests, and after several wins, I’d snagged the interest of an agent. She had been sending some of my work out to publishers and I was still entering contests trying to get some editor’s attention. After another big win in a contest, I had my hopes up that I might be getting the call soon. And then it came early one morning before I even got dressed. My agent asked, “Are you sitting down?” (Take note that all publishing professionals like to ask this question.)

Heart racing, I replied, “I’ve been waiting for this for six years. I can take it standing up.” (Looking back, this response may have been due to my past ‘call’ experience.) “I’ve sold a book, haven’t I?”

Being a total New Yorker, her reply was quick. “No. You haven’t a sold a book. “The thought that ran through my head was . . .shoot me now. I mean I was so ready for it to happen, and from my agent’s tone, I just knew I had finally arrived.Then my agent continued, “You’ve sold four.”

Breathless and in my southern drawl, I answered, “I need to sit down.”

First call—1993

I’d been writing for nine years, I’d even finaled in the Golden Heart Contest with my novel, Two Hearts Too Late, a sweet romance targeted to the Silhouette Romance line. The book didn’t sell, but I knew it had promise. So, a few years after it made the GH awards, I rewrote it from page one, and when I was six chapters into it, I entered it into another contest. An editor from Silhouette was the judge and if you finaled, you actually got to chat with the editor at the conference.

I was one of the lucky finalists, and the afternoon before the awards ceremony, I remember the sophisticated editor looking at me all serious-like and saying, “I want to read the rest of this book. I really, really like this story.”

I remember thinking she was just being nice.

Later that night at the awards ceremony, I was awarded first place. And it hit me, wow, she really did like my story.In a couple of months, manuscript complete, I packaged my 240 page story along with my hopes and dreams, and I sent the package to her. Sure, I was excited, but I wasn’t holding my breath. I’d heard of other writers getting this close and then getting the big rejection that hits you right in the gut. Hmm…speaking of gut pain…

Several months passed and I received a letter that simply said she had read it, liked it a lot, and had passed it to the senior editor. Okay, my hopes grew, I held my breath just a little bit, but I reminded myself how easy it was for those hopes to get flushed down the toilet. And speaking of toilets…

The day the call in, I was running around the house; my son, a toddler at the time, and my older daughter had both been hit with a stomach virus. Hubby was supposed to get some medicine on his way home from work, which he was about to walk out of the office. He’d called to get the med’s information—we didn’t do cell phones back then—but his boss had walked into his office, and hubby not wanting to discuss diarrhea meds with his boss in the room, said, “I’ll call you back in just a second.”

Well, of course, that’s when my stomach suddenly started rolling, I didn’t have a second to wait. Phone, still in hand, I ran.

One minute later, the phone rings. No, I didn’t have caller ID—and yes, like an idiot I answered it, certain it was my husband. “You’d better hurry,” I said. “Now I’ve got it.”

“Excuse me,” said this voice with a New York accent. “Is Christie Craig in?”Maybe I should have lied and said she was indisposed. Maybe I should have just told the truth and said she was presently sitting on the pot, bare-bottomed, a wad of toilet paper in one hand, and a phone in the other, but nope, I didn’t.

“This is her,” I said.“Hi Christie, this is Risa, from Silhouette Romance.”

My heart started to flutter, right along with my intestines. Then in a very sophisticated voice she asked, “Are you sitting down?”

“As a matter of fact I am,” I answered.

So there you have it, my embarrassing publication call story that I swore I’d never tell. Now doesn’t it seem like fate that I use just a little potty humor in my books?

Okay…you guys know we are giving away prizes this week, right? So today one lucky poster will win a $10 gift certificate from Barnes & Noble bookstore, a pack of the “new” note cards, and a signed copy of my book, Divorced, Desperate and Delicious. So come on, post away. Share an embarrassing story or just offer a few sympathies to me for telling my own embarrassing story.

But post!

Crime Scene Christie