As early as 1985, I knew I wanted to write a novel. I couldn’t imagine writing publishable fiction, so I set a goal of learning to write fiction, while writing non-fiction, and working in radio to bring in money.
I visited the Florida Suncoast Writers Conference at the Bayboro Campus in St. Petersburg. Mel Parker, then Senior Editor at Berkeley, said, “What I’d like to see is a non-traditional investigator in an unusual setting. I am especially interested in a young, female protagonist.”
So, I created a mystery series built around Veronica Slate, a Tampa radio talk show host who investigates things that interest her. I landed a New York agent and began writing the first book, Kill Cue.
October 1986, I printed the entire manuscript of Kill Cue and mailed it to my agent. I couldn’t decide whether to insure it for $25, the cost of the paper, or $35,000, its value to me. The lady at the post office saw things more clearly and insured it for $50.
Then, came the waiting. I won't kid you. It felt like an eternity.
At first, I vacillated between expecting it to sell immediately and expecting it to never sell at all.
I lapsed into a kind of daze as months passed with rejection after rejection. I was even rejected by a company that published nothing but mystery novels.
In 1987, I taught at the Florida Suncoast Writer’s Conference in St. Petersburg. Just to be on the safe side, I continued working from 7 pm to midnight at WBRD-AM/WDUV-FM.
Liz answered and cut me off, “Hi, Lary. You were on our list to call this afternoon. We just sold your first six books. Hold on a moment.”
Thankfully, she came back and said, “Okay. We worked a six-book deal for the Veronica Slate series. Jim will call you with the details in an hour.”
It was the longest forty-two minutes of my life.
Jim Trupin called me and told me the deal. “Lynx Books is a new imprint of Bantam Books,” Jim said. “They want to sign you to a six-book paperback contract with a hefty advance and a nice royalty figure.”
“Wow,” I said.
“You’ll get an advance check on the D and A of each book.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s delivery and acceptance. Have you started writing the second book?”
“Yeah. I’m up to Chapter 12 of Extreme Close-Up.”
“Good going, Lary.”
When my books sold, we were behind on our mortgage, and only one car was running, a nine-year-old Pontiac. Suddenly, like the dream we all have of winning the lottery, our lives were changed by the signing advance and the advance on the first book, a total of $9,000.
That was a lot of money back then. In a month, we paid every debt we owed. We bought a 1987 Hyundai and got a personalized license plate that read First Advance.
According to my editor, Judith Stern, "Kill Cue will be in bookstores, airports, and bus stations by Christmas 1988, with the other books to follow about every four months each after that."
I began to think of myself as a competent writer. I felt like a celebrity. I was on TV a half-dozen times, and I spoke to 25 local writers’ groups, writers’ conferences and at libraries before the first book even came out. The gist of my speech: “If I can do it, anyone can do it!”
My first time seeing Kill Cue, for sale, was in a drug store right before Christmas 1988. On a rack at Walgreen’s. I bought three copies of it.
