So I sent it off and, though the letter I received back is in a box somewhere, I remember the gist. She said she really enjoyed it, even though it didn't fit with them, but she liked my humor and my voice and dialogue. She had a friend at HQN and asked if I was okay with her sending it off to her. I was!
That friend's name was Abby and I later took her first name as my pen name because she was nice and encouraging and because I always thought Abby was a sweet name (Incidentally, my first initial is also A and I picked Wheeler based on my last name beginning with W). By the time I emailed her to follow up, Abby said it was with her boss and that she really liked it. Sadly, her boss didn't love the story, though she also liked my "fresh, engaging voice." Abby was nice enough to send it on to a friend at AVON.
I felt so encouraged, at this time, having gotten such personal responses even if they amounted to rejection, that I started quickly writing and even finishing another romance. This time, the plot involved a girl shamelessly chasing a boy. Because you often see the opposite in romance and I thought it would be fun to flip that dynamic.
During this time, I sent synopses and queries on both stories to several agents, but all seemed to have the same response: good voice, fun moments, characters great, plot meh.
By the time Avon got back to me, the response was "It’s got lots of delightful moments, but to me it didn’t scream Avon—it had many trappings of smaller category romance that kept me from falling madly in love." I did send both Abby and the Avon lady my second manuscript, but they thought my heroine came off nutty. I still contend that I can make this premise work, but that's down the road. I've had this couple in my head for 12 years now and that has to mean something!
Anyhow, I was feeling discouraged, but determined to doctor these up and try again. After being rejected for my looks so often in my Hollywood endeavors, it was at least refreshing to be rejected for my mind. I would pick those books up again and make them better, damn it!
Then everything in my life came to a screeching halt.
I lost two relatives in six months. As these were people I took care of, involved in my day-to-day life, and extremely important to me, I put writing away. I considered it wasted time, then. I put away the idea of writing. Why bother to send these things off just to be rejected? I also put away the idea of acting and singing and comedy. I wasn't in the best place, looking back and my decision to kind of give up on everything was colored by my grieving.
It took more than two years for me to write again. And it wasn't a novel that pulled me back in. See, I'm a shipper. I'm the worst kind of shipper. I ship couples that almost NEVER get together
The frustration of shipping led me to read fanfiction. and, much like when I read romance, I felt a certain yearning -- always looking for a certain kind of fic and not finding it or reading a great one only to wish this or that had been different. So I wrote one. And the addiction began...
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