So, I’m sitting here, planning on writing a blog on the real ideas behind Valentine’s Day since so many people seem to be so down on it when I look into a little-used e-mail account and find…
Yeah. For something that I WROTE. Un-fucking-believable.
I knew it had been accepted several weeks ago, but I had to add a scene on (which made sense to me, but still freaked me out having to change something that they had already thought was great) and, pending that addition, I’d get the contract.
Apparently, they liked it.
So, I’ve been crying for the last half hour, praying no one walks back into my office. I swear, I cannot explain to my male boss(es) why I’m bawling… had I written your usual sort of story, I’d be all over the office, bragging… but considering there’s only one other woman in the entire company, I don’t see bragging about getting some erotica published as being much of an option.
Yeah, that’d make the workplace FUN, wouldn’t it? Tell 40 construction workers that you write porn (but not really) in your spare time? Yeaaaah. How about not?
~Your excited and frightened soon to be PUBLISHED Crazy Lady