“I’m calling to offer you a publishing contract,” she said. “We’d like to offer you a book deal. But we’ll need to know your real name. What is your real name, if you don’t mind telling me?”
“Um,” I said. “Mia Thermopolis.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, hi, Mia.” She then went on to say some things about money, and contracts, and due dates, and some other things I didn’t understand because I was in too much of a daze.
“Um,” I finally said. “Can I have your number? I think I’m going to have to call you back.”
“Sure!” she said. And gave me her extension. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks a lot.”
Then I hung up.
I lay back in my bed and looked at Fat Louie, who was staring at me, happily purring from my pillows.
Then I screamed as loud as I could, freaking out Mom, Rocky, and, of course, Fat Louie, who darted off the bed (all the pigeons on my fire escape took off, too).
I cannot believe it:
I got an offer on my book.
And okay…it’s not for a ton of money. If I were an actual person who had to make a living doing this, I would not be able to survive—at least in New York City—for more than a couple of months on what they offered. If you really want to be a writer, clearly, you have to write and do some other job, too, in order to pay your rent, etc. At least when you’re first starting out.
But since I’m going to be donating the money to Greenpeace anyway…who cares?
Someone wants to buy my book!!!!!
Friday, May 5, 11 a.m., the loft
I feel like I’m floating….
Seriously, I’m so happy! This has been the best day of my life. At least so far.
I really mean that. Nothing is going to ruin it. NOTHING. And NO ONE.
I won’t let them.
The first thing I did, after I told Mom and Mr. G about my book deal, was call Tina. I was all, “Tina—Guess what? I got an offer on my book.”
And she was like, “WHAT???? OH MY GOD, MIA, THAT IS FANTASTIC!!!!”
So then we shrieked for, like, seriously, ten minutes. After that I hung up and called J.P. Probably I should have called him first, since he’s my boyfriend. But I’ve known Tina longer.
The thing is, even though J.P. was happy for me, and all, he wasn’t…well. He had some words of warning. Just because he loves me so much, though.
“You shouldn’t accept a first offer, Mia,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked. “You did, from Sean Penn.”
“But that’s different,” he said. “Sean’s an award-winning director. You don’t even know who this editor is.”
“Yes, I do,” I said. “I just looked her up on the Internet. She’s published tons of books. She’s totally legit, and so is her publishing house. It’s huge. They publish all the romances. Well, a lot of them.”
“Even so,” J.P. said. “You might get a better offer from someone else. I wouldn’t rush into anything.”
“Rush into anything?” I echoed. “J.P., I’ve had, like, sixty-five rejection letters. She’s the only person who has expressed the remotest interest in my book. It’s a totally fair offer.”
“If you’d just do what I said,” J.P. said, “and try to sell it under your real name, you’d get a ton more interest, and probably a much bigger advance.”
“That’s just it,” I said. “She wanted to publish it without knowing who I was! That means she likes the book on its own merit. That means way more to me than money.”
“Look,” J.P. said. “Just don’t accept the offer yet. Let me talk to Sean. He knows people in publishing. I bet he can get you a better offer.”
“No!” I cried. I couldn’t believe how J.P. was trying to ruin this beautiful moment for me. Although it wasn’t his fault. I knew he was just looking out for my best interests. But he was being a total buzz kill, as they said on True Life. “No way, J.P. I’m taking this offer.”
“Mia,” J.P. said. “You don’t know anything about publishing. How do you know what you’re getting yourself into? You don’t even have an agent.”
“I have the Royal Genovian lawyers,” I reminded him. “I don’t think I need to remind you that they are like a pack of rabid pit bulls. Remember what they did to that guy who tried to publish that unauthorized biography of me last year?” I didn’t want to add, And what I could have them do to you, for writing a loosely based bio-play on me? Because I didn’t want to be mean, and, of course, I’d never sic the Royal Genovian lawyers on J.P. “I’ll have them look over the contract before I sign it.”
“I think you’re making a mistake,” J.P. said.
“Well, I don’t think I am,” I said. I wanted to cry. I really did. I knew he was only being that way because he loves me, but come on.
I got over it, though. Even though J.P. and I got into our first (albeit very minor) fight over it, I still think I’m doing the right thing. Because I called my dad and told him about it, and after he asked a lot of questions (in a sort of distracted way, because he’s busy campaigning. I was sorry to bug him about something so unimportant when he has so much to do, but—well, this is important to me), he still said it was fine by him, and I could do what I wanted—so long as I didn’t sign anything until I had his pit bull lawyers see it first.