Accepted!

It's official!

Woohoo! Celebrate! Chocolate Time! And all that jazz.

The Salt Lake Temple-themed book I submitted in December is officially accepted and slated for release in September of this year.

Yes!

Does it have a title yet?

No!

Even after publishing four novels, there's always the possibility that I'll be rejected (something that has happened many, many times, even since publishing).

A couple of weeks ago, Kathy, the managing editor at my publisher forwarded a reader e-mail and then dropped a bomb: My manuscript was going to committee that week.

That means Wednesday.

Which means that by Tuesday I was having an ulcer.

By Wednesday I couldn't see straight. I kept checking my e-mail for any word and would jump every time the phone rang.

Finally, in desperation, at 4:55 pm, I shot off an e-mail to Kathy asking if a decision had been made. I clicked "send," then crossed my fingers in hopes that she'd see the e-mail before leaving for home in five minutes.

I cursed the fact that I ever knew that my book was going to the committee today. Not knowing and then just hearing the decision after the fact wouldn't have shaved 3.8 years off my life like anticipating the worst did.

Shortly, the phone rang. The caller ID registered my publisher. I swallowed hard and answered.

It was indeed Kathy, and YES! I was accepted.

Then came the kicker: The committee had made the decision that morning, and at their noon break, Kathy hurried to her computer to email me a congratulatory message.

It obviously didn't arrive. Over the phone she told me that she had sent another e-mail when she saw mine, but thought she'd better call me to be sure.

Thank heavens she did, or I would have been knee-deep in chocolate by the time both of her e-mails arrived that night around 10:10 pm.

This way I was only ankle-deep in chocolate as I celebrated.