That was close!

I suppose I should have expected this. Now that I’m running in authorial circles it was only a matter of time. Someone I know just got offered a publishing contract. (I won’t reveal who just now, as he hasn’t announced it formally himself, and I only know because of a Facebook post by his wife.) UPDATE: It’s Dave Butler. He’s announced it now. Congrats, Dave! (“City of the Saints” is still on my reading list, I promise!)

Of course I’m excited for him. He’s been working hard for this. He’s been building a self-publishing career for several years now. A few weeks ago he picked up an agent. And now he’s got a book deal. This is awesome stuff! I’m tempted to drive down to where he lives just so I can touch him for luck.

His wife was physically ill over the news. I can understand that. I’m little more than a friend, and it’s got me shook up a little bit. Because frankly success can be a little frightening, even second-hand. If it can happen to him, it could happen to me. And once you sign a contract it’s no longer just a dream, no longer something you do for fun. That’s scary stuff.

I have proof that it does happen. Up until now I’ve only met already-published authors or authors going the self-publishing route. This is the first time I’ve known someone before they went prime-time. I’ve read some of Dave’s work. It was older work, and he’s written half a dozen books or so since then, but I think I write as well now as he did then. This is the closest I’ve come so far to a benchmark on how I measure up. I’m perhaps a few books behind him in experience, and he’s got an offer.

Dang. This really is possible.

Now as I said, he’s certainly ahead of me on the curve, and in many ways it’s hard to compare our writing–we write very different stuff. I’m also less than an impartial judge. But some other opportunities have come my way in the past while that have given me reason to believe I might be a better writer than I think. I’m not so foolish as to think all I have to do is write half a dozen more novels and I’ll have a book contract, too. But I have suddenly found some fairly compelling evidence that it’s at least possible.

“Possible” is exciting. And a little scary.