Last week was the LDStormakers conference right here in my home town! I'll be posting about some of the great things I learned over the next few weeks. I've been to this conference four years running, and it's always amazing. This year was no exception, and it had the added bonus that I got to meet my fabulous agent, Hannah Bowman.
We had dinner on Thursday night, during which I determined that she is basically my agent-y soulmate. Which I'd already kinda known, but it was made clear to me when we agreed on everything from Martin Freeman being more attractive than Benedict Cumberbatch (I know, so sue us-- but watch Sherlock, and tell me Martin isn't adorable), to the fall of the once-great Doctor Who.
But the kicker came on Saturday. We just so happen to have GORGEOUS mountains in Utah, and Hannah asked if I'd take her and Harlequin editor Victoria Curran up Provo Canyon. We had a lovely drive up to Sundance Ski Resort, enjoying the canyon. On the way back, I drove them to see a few sights around town. Then we had to turn around and head back to the conference.
I was on a side street. It was empty. I SWEAR there was no one behind me when I checked my mirrors. So I pulled a u-turn.
Brakes shrieked and a car swerved around me. It screeched to a stop in front of me and two teenage boys stared at me, wide-eyed, from the back seat.
AND THEN. The driver gets out of the car. He marches toward us. Hands are waving in the air as he shouts, "What the h*ll?!" My first thought: I almost killed my agent, an editor, and three people in the other car. Second thought: Drive away from scary man. Third thought: Someone would like to talk to you. Roll down the window and talk to nice, scary man.
I rolled down the window. (I KNOW.) And what did nice, scary man say to me? He leaned down and said, "I'm sorry for swearing at you."
I stared.
"I was just really upset," he continued.
"I'm sorry I almost hit you with my car," I choked out.
He got back in his car and drove away.
Hannah was incredulous. "Is that road rage in Utah? I was ready to go all New York on him, and you just APOLOGIZED to each other! All he said was 'h*ll!' I say worse things than that all the time!"
And I was very glad we could laugh about it, instead of having to call cops/an ambulance/etc. And I was very mortified that my bad driving was put on such public display.
So, my friends, take heart. When you're querying, or tweeting an agent, or pitching to an agent in person, know that whatever mistakes you make, it will never be as bad as the time I almost caused the untimely death of my agent.