When I was 18, I got email.
To be specific, my brother installed Microsoft Outlook on the Dell laptop I bought with the money I received from my high school graduation. I was so excited to get that laptop, because before then, I was writing my books on a Brother word processor. No offense to the word processor, but hey, it was a word processor. And yes, I was writing books before I was 18. When you’re a writer, there’s no off switch, and there’s no start date. You’re just a writer.
So when I got that laptop, the next greatest thing happened. I went to college, and holy cow, they had internet! Like real internet. Not dial up. Not, “Your father needs the phone. You need to get off the computer!” You plugged this funny little yellow wire into your laptop, and you had internet all the time! It was a Christmas miracle. In August.
So with my nifty laptop and my internet-all-the-time, I sent an email.
To Julia Quinn.
You see, at that point, I had written several romance stories. I say stories, because I hadn’t quite figured out how to make them into full length novels. I was still learning after all. So I sent an email to Julia Quinn, and I asked her how I could get published.
And better than internet-all-the-time, she responded! She told me to join RWA.
That was the most crucial thing that ever happened in my career as a historical romance author. And I owe it all to the book of which I have 2 paperback copies. One that has fallen apart from reading it so much, and one signed by the author. (Of course!) And here it is.
But remember how they say you should never meet your heroes? I met Julia Quinn once. In a restroom. Because I can’t make this stuff up.
Thank you, Ms. Quinn. For responding to my email. And for Colin Bridgerton, of course.