Every writer has his/her odd moments, and for me, most of those have revolved around rejections and conversations with agents. Three of the strangest involve:
Taking the narrow-gauge train from Durango to Silverton, Colorado during the height of a large forest fire. I'm not sure why the brains didn't cancel the train, but they didn't. Our family rode the train through the mountains where great flames were shooting into the sky and airplanes would swoop down and drop tons of water into the inferno. When we arrived at Silverton, my first order of business was finding an internet cafe where, after quickly checking my emails, I learned from my New York agent that the publisher was passing on my follow-up title to Candles in the Dark and, also, that my agent was dumping me. It was a longer ride back to Durango through the flames and I felt like Dante in the seventh ring of hell.
Conducting an early-morning radio interview from a hotel room while my wife and I were on an anniversary vacation. Becky couldn't keep her hands off me and I was trying to talk to the radio host about The Best Things in Life Are Free.
After picking up Logan at the high school, I had just pulled into our driveway when my cell phone rang and I learned that my agent (my fourth in seven years) was "cutting me loose". I've been cut loose many times, but at least my wife hasn't said she was cutting me loose (yet) and, so far, I've been able to find other agents who will work with a loser like me.
Which leads me to wonder: Am I the eight ball in this mix?
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