As you might know if you follow me on Facebook and Twitter, this week marked the 10th anniversary of my first book being published. To say that it was a dream come true would be an understatement.
My dad riding my horse, Jenny. They were good friends, those two.
Let me go back a little further, even, to the day my lovely agent called me to say she had sold my book. I was alone in the house; my then-little ones were at school, and McIrish was working. The phone rang, and caller ID showed it to be my agent, who is a very impressive woman, very regal and brilliant. On my scale of Impressive Women, she comes just beneath Sister Mary, my high school principal, and just above Queen Elizabeth. “I have excellent news, Kristan,” Maria said. The rest of the conversation was a blur.
When I hung up, my heart was thumping, and my eyes were wet. I had no one to tell. The house was empty. But there was one person who deserved to be the first—my father, who had died so many years before. “Guess what, Daddy?” I said. “I’m going to be a published author.” I tried to conjure him—the tall, rangy man with the clear blue eyes, and for a second, I thought I smelled his good dad smell. He would’ve been so proud, I knew, and a little smug, a little “I told you so,” because he was like that.
Seeing my book in a real live bookstore for the first time.
Fast-forward a year and a half, and McIrish and I were celebrating our 15th anniversary a little early. We had driven to Montreal—it was October, but Montreal didn’t get the message and thought it was winter. To escape the cold, we went into an underground mall. Into a bookstore. I was browsing titles when McIrish said, “Honey! Look! They HAVE YOUR BOOK!” He held it up, and sure enough, there was the pink cover, the adorable doggie. “My wife wrote this!” he announced. The bookstore had two copies; he hand-sold them both.
Since then, you readers have blessed me with experiences that I never imagined. You’ve stood in lines to see me, welcomed me to cities I’ve never seen and even foreign countries. You’ve sent me thousands of notes, messages, emails, gifts. You know my children, you love my husband, and you’re part of our lives.
It still feels like a dream.
I’m giving away books and gifties to celebrate—make sure you’re on my mailing list and, if you’re on Facebook, that you’ve liked my author page.
Thank you for the ten happiest years of my life, gang. Thank you so much.
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