“We’ve published several names you’d recognize. Cara Mulaney. Isabelle Martin. Ayo DeMarcus. We truly believe we’rethe right team to help you bring this story to market, and I know I’d love to be your partner in telling it.”
I swallow. “Wow. Thank you. That’s… This is really kind. Um…could I have some time to think about it?”
“Oh, of course. Take all the time you need. In the meantime, I’ll send you some additional details for the proposal—the official offer, as well as some early marketing plans I’ve been working on. When you’re ready—should you decide to let us in on the journey—we can discuss details of what we’d like to see from the memoir. Of course, it’s your story, but I just have a few ideas I know I’d be interested in hearing more about. Things I think audiences would really gravitate toward.”
We end the call, and Mom and I stare at each other. My heart flutters with disbelief. It’s not a novel, but it’s something. It’s a real, actual book deal.
“Did that just happen?”
Her smile widens. “So, you’re happy?”
“I’m…” I scoff.Happyisn’t the right word. “I’m shocked, I guess. Confused. I never imagined…”
“You have a story worth telling,” she says gently. “They’d be fools not to want to work with you.”
I lick my lips, thinking. “So, I should do it?”
She puts a hand to her chest. “Is that what you want?”
And then, all at once, reality hits me. This is real. Not in the way I imagined, but real nonetheless. I’m going to be published. My book will be on shelves, in my hand.
And, maybe best of all, I’ll get to tell my dad about it before he’s gone.
Black Elm sends the offer details a week later. The advance isn’t huge, but it’s around what I’ll make in a year writing articles for the paper. Mom and I look it over while we eat the pizza I brought, drinking the bottle of champagne she picked up during her weekly grocery run.
It’s real—in black and white—and it’s happening.
I cry a lot, still in shock, as she tells me how proud Dad would be of me. How proud she is of me. I take the contract into his room, and his nurse, Norm, steps out to give us a moment of privacy.
His legs are swollen now, his skin a strange gray color. He has sores, despite the fact that Norm makes sure to roll him over on a schedule to keep them from forming.
This is not at all how I imagined this day would go, and yet it’s here.
And yet it is.
I climb into bed with him and try to ignore the way the room smells. Even as often as he’s bathed, the smell of urine and death permeates the air. Tears find my eyes as I curl up next to him, holding tight.
“I did it, Dad.” I can’t say any more, and so I don’t. I let the tears fall, for myself, for him, and for everything that’s happened. This is the first step to getting my life on track, and the fact that I’ll have to do it without him, that she took this from me too—took any chance I had to make it happen while he was healthy enough to celebrate with me—will always sting.
Before I sign the contract, I send it to an entertainment attorney Nora recommended. During the wait, I reach out to a few of the authors who have been published under Black Elm, explainingthat I’ve been offered a contract and just want to hear their thoughts on the publisher.
The first response comes from Isabelle Martin, one of the authors Claire bragged about on our call.
Lila—
So great to hear from you! Congrats on your offer from BE. I’ve heard your name a few times but just took a minute to look you up, and WOW, I’m impressed by your story. I’d love to discuss my experiences with Black Elm, and strangely enough I’ll actually be in Nashville next week for the LitFest on the Cumberland writing festival. Will you be in town (or better yet, at the conference)? If yes to either, I’d love to chat in person. I’ll be attending with fellow BE veterans, so you can ask us anything, and we’ll help you get a full picture of our experiences. If not, let me know, and we’ll figure something else out.
Talk soon!
Is
CHAPTER THIRTY
The restaurant Isabelle agrees to meet me at is in East Nashville, too far to walk to from my Gulch apartment and a nightmare to park at. I arrive early and am seated in the back near the bathrooms.
Lovely.
Still, nothing can ruin my mood.
