Giving Birth to My First Kid's Book
I was sitting in my backyard one summer day in 1998 staring at the sky. I may have been drooling a bit. I guess I was pondering my existence - which typically leads to drooling. This led me to think about everyone's existence (buckets of drool) and why so many people seem to feel empty and sad (approximately 18 million americans take anti-depressant medications). It seemed to me that the missing piece was spirituality - some sort of "healthy" connection to spirit.
I thought about how many folks go through life striving to be successful - to have status, money, fancy houses and cars, and loads of stuff - and how these things are equated to happiness. The focus in our society is on the external world. The message is: If you jump through the proper hoops (or know the proper people) you'll "achieve" or "acquire" happiness and contentment. But my own spiritual journey was teaching me that happiness and contentment was an internal experience - not an external one. I came to the conclusion, after changing my drool-soaked clothing, that maybe we've got it backwards. What would happen if we lived from the inside out, rather than from the outside in?
Now, this is not a new idea. But on that day this concept hit me like a spiritual mack truck. For reasons that are still not entirely clear, I was on a mission: How do I remind people that they are powerful spiritual beings in a way that's not too obnoxious or new agey? Even more importantly, how do I convey this message to people who are not spiritually inclined?
And then it came to me - a kid's book. The moment that thought entered my head, the entire story, title and all, fell out of the sky and into my lap. It was the easiest writing I've ever done. I thought a children's book would be a great and simple way to convey a basic spiritual truth in a way that doesn't preach (unless you agree with the mean-spirited woman whose editorial review of my book is posted on Amazon)
When I first started thinking about attempting to have my stuff published in 2000, I never really considered the possibility that I wouldn't have success. And this is NOT because I fancy myself a super swell writer. It was coming more from a sincere desire to remind people how powerful they are to change the experience of their lives by remembering who they really are. This desire is tucked away in a place deep inside me (I think it has to do with my liver). Many people told me that I would have more success getting a brain transplant than I would having a children's book published. I ignored them.
Instead I started the process of looking for a publisher. I knew that my story, being as unusual as it was, would probably not appeal to mainstream publishers. I went on-line and did a search for "metaphysical children's book publishers." Within several minutes I found the website for Illumination Arts (www.illumin.com) and decided "this was the one." I submitted my manuscript to Illumination Arts and a few other small alternative publishers willing to accept unsolicited material.
About 6 months went by and I hadn't heard back from Illumination Arts. I did receive heartfelt rejection "form letters" from the other houses I submitted to. In atypical fashion, I decided to call Illumination Arts. (It had to be the passion/liver thing driving me because I never make follow-up phones calls to anyone about anything - I figure if I reach out to someone and they don't get back to me, then that's that). But the need to call them kept nagging at me like a hard-to-reach itch. So I called.
I spoke with a very sweet woman who asked, "Did you send a self addressed stamped envelope with your manuscript?" I said, "Nope." To which she responded, "Since we receive over 2000 manuscripts a year we give the ones with self-addressed stamped envelopes priority. Yours is probably sitting at the bottom of some pile some where." Well, you don't have to tell me twice. As soon as I got off the phone I put together another package for Illumination Arts. This time I included a self-addressed stamped envelope. Pretty smart, eh?
A couple of months after I sent the second manuscript I received a phone message from the acquisitions editor with Illumination Arts. The message said that my story was one of 10 they were considering for publication in 2003. She said that they only publish 4 titles a year and would be meeting soon to make the final decision. She asked that I call back. Well, since she asked, I figured the least I can do was return the call.
Smoke was coming out of my fingertip as I dialed the number. A man named John answered the phone. Turns out he's the owner of Illumination Arts. yikes. I kept repeating to myself, "Don't screw this up. Don't screw this up." John told me how much he enjoyed my story. We had what seemed like a very pleasant conversation. I thought how fortuitous it was that the owner of the company answered the phone. About an hour later the phone rang again. It was John telling me that he'd like to go ahead and send me a contract to publish Inside Out. I think I jumped up and down or something completely uncharacteristic of me. I was excited. And you know, I've called Illumination Arts a bunch of times since then and not once has John answered the phone. Hmmm.
All in all, my first official publishing experience was quite magical. I wish this kind of experience for every aspiring writer in the world. It really drove home the idea that anything really is possible. Corny, I know.
So put your seatbelts on! My drool glands are bone dry from all the contemplating I've been doing . . . and now I have an agent!
I thought about how many folks go through life striving to be successful - to have status, money, fancy houses and cars, and loads of stuff - and how these things are equated to happiness. The focus in our society is on the external world. The message is: If you jump through the proper hoops (or know the proper people) you'll "achieve" or "acquire" happiness and contentment. But my own spiritual journey was teaching me that happiness and contentment was an internal experience - not an external one. I came to the conclusion, after changing my drool-soaked clothing, that maybe we've got it backwards. What would happen if we lived from the inside out, rather than from the outside in?
Now, this is not a new idea. But on that day this concept hit me like a spiritual mack truck. For reasons that are still not entirely clear, I was on a mission: How do I remind people that they are powerful spiritual beings in a way that's not too obnoxious or new agey? Even more importantly, how do I convey this message to people who are not spiritually inclined?
And then it came to me - a kid's book. The moment that thought entered my head, the entire story, title and all, fell out of the sky and into my lap. It was the easiest writing I've ever done. I thought a children's book would be a great and simple way to convey a basic spiritual truth in a way that doesn't preach (unless you agree with the mean-spirited woman whose editorial review of my book is posted on Amazon)
When I first started thinking about attempting to have my stuff published in 2000, I never really considered the possibility that I wouldn't have success. And this is NOT because I fancy myself a super swell writer. It was coming more from a sincere desire to remind people how powerful they are to change the experience of their lives by remembering who they really are. This desire is tucked away in a place deep inside me (I think it has to do with my liver). Many people told me that I would have more success getting a brain transplant than I would having a children's book published. I ignored them.
Instead I started the process of looking for a publisher. I knew that my story, being as unusual as it was, would probably not appeal to mainstream publishers. I went on-line and did a search for "metaphysical children's book publishers." Within several minutes I found the website for Illumination Arts (www.illumin.com) and decided "this was the one." I submitted my manuscript to Illumination Arts and a few other small alternative publishers willing to accept unsolicited material.
About 6 months went by and I hadn't heard back from Illumination Arts. I did receive heartfelt rejection "form letters" from the other houses I submitted to. In atypical fashion, I decided to call Illumination Arts. (It had to be the passion/liver thing driving me because I never make follow-up phones calls to anyone about anything - I figure if I reach out to someone and they don't get back to me, then that's that). But the need to call them kept nagging at me like a hard-to-reach itch. So I called.
I spoke with a very sweet woman who asked, "Did you send a self addressed stamped envelope with your manuscript?" I said, "Nope." To which she responded, "Since we receive over 2000 manuscripts a year we give the ones with self-addressed stamped envelopes priority. Yours is probably sitting at the bottom of some pile some where." Well, you don't have to tell me twice. As soon as I got off the phone I put together another package for Illumination Arts. This time I included a self-addressed stamped envelope. Pretty smart, eh?
A couple of months after I sent the second manuscript I received a phone message from the acquisitions editor with Illumination Arts. The message said that my story was one of 10 they were considering for publication in 2003. She said that they only publish 4 titles a year and would be meeting soon to make the final decision. She asked that I call back. Well, since she asked, I figured the least I can do was return the call.
Smoke was coming out of my fingertip as I dialed the number. A man named John answered the phone. Turns out he's the owner of Illumination Arts. yikes. I kept repeating to myself, "Don't screw this up. Don't screw this up." John told me how much he enjoyed my story. We had what seemed like a very pleasant conversation. I thought how fortuitous it was that the owner of the company answered the phone. About an hour later the phone rang again. It was John telling me that he'd like to go ahead and send me a contract to publish Inside Out. I think I jumped up and down or something completely uncharacteristic of me. I was excited. And you know, I've called Illumination Arts a bunch of times since then and not once has John answered the phone. Hmmm.
All in all, my first official publishing experience was quite magical. I wish this kind of experience for every aspiring writer in the world. It really drove home the idea that anything really is possible. Corny, I know.
So put your seatbelts on! My drool glands are bone dry from all the contemplating I've been doing . . . and now I have an agent!
posted by wendy at 10:04 AM
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