Look how far you’ve come

I went to the Isle of Wight recently – a last-minute trip with family, but also an opportunity to have lunch with my literary agent Caroline, who I’ve only met once since she signed me over a year ago. She lives in the Isle of Wight when she’s not in London, and it was lovely to have a chat about what I’m currently writing, what I’m thinking about writing next, and what the future might hold.

It occurred to me as we sat in a pub garden overlooking the sea that the first time Caroline and I met was early September last year, so less than a year ago. It was in that heady window between lockdowns, when outdoor dining was not just fine, but positively encouraged. We went to a Greek restaurant in Notting Hill and talked through the feedback Caroline had received from some of the publishers who’d received and read the manuscript for Two Metres From You. It was largely positive and enthusiastic, but always with a small ‘but’.

I can remember being confused about how I should feel – should I be encouraged by the positivity and kind words, or despondent that publishers weren’t fighting over my little book? I’d never done this before, so was this good or bad news?

Caroline reminded me that there was still a decent chunk of the publishers on the list who hadn’t yet responded, and the feedback wasn’t surprising considering the nature of the book. A lockdown romance wasn’t for everyone, particularly only six months into the pandemic when everything still felt extremely real and current. A year on, I know lots of people who still can’t read it.  

So I remained positive (which is pretty much my natural state, to be fair) and left lunch feeling buoyed and excited about the future. A week later I had a Zoom call with an editor from Headline Accent and the deal was done.

Eleven months later my debut is published, two other books are completed, and another is currently in the works. I’ve had some lovely reviews and emails and messages that have made my heart swell. I’ve worked out how to fit writing around my job and begun to understand a little more about how the wheels of publishing turn.

Which brings me back to the pub garden in the Isle of Wight, talking to Caroline about the future. It’s easy to focus on the next year and forget to acknowledge the achievements from the previous one – we all do it. But it doesn’t matter what you’ve ticked off your list – whether you wrote the first paragraph, or made it to 10,000 words, or got it finished, or sent it off, or scored a number one bestseller, or wrote a book that publishers fought over, or landed a Netflix deal for the new Bridgerton. We may still have a long way to go, but look how far we’ve come.

I left that lunch feeling much like I did when I left the Greek restaurant in Notting Hill – buoyed and excited for the future. But also kind of proud of myself, you know?