Firsts: Kisses, Chaos, and the Contract I Never Saw Coming

Firsts. We all have them. They're just a part of life. Even plants have firsts. The first time they sprouted. The first time they felt sun. The first time they were pruned.

Recently, I started to think about some of my firsts. The obvious ones pushed to the front of the line and occupied some of my thinking. First kiss with a red headed boy in my driveway in 8th grade. First public vomit in Sister Katherine's 5th grade (first and last, thank god. It was Campbell's Chunky Sirloin Soup. All over my math test. Yah, ick.) First car accident in my baby blue Pontiac T-1000 hatchback and it wasn't my fault. All the people in McDonald's told me so.

Some more sentimental and sweet moments crept in line. First time I laid eyes on my husband. He sheepishly walked past my dorm room and my cousin/roommate shouted, "Hey! Who are you? Get in here!" He did. I liked him immediately. And I told all of my friends not to like him, because I was going to make him my boyfriend. They all obeyed. Turned out he liked me back. We've been together 39 years and counting.

First time I held each of my sons. If you're a parent, you know the magical perfection of the purest love on the planet. And the holy-crap-I'm-in-charge-of-this-creature feeling.

Let me take you way, way back in time. First time I sent a query letter out. Year, 1994. I ditched my home state of PA, packed up and went on an awesome adventure. I moved to New Smyrna Beach, Florida with my then-fiancé (now husband). I wrote my very first children's book called Theodora's Dream. Apparently, I had my own personal renaissance down there because I wrote two more books, started painting, making crafts and even silk flower arranging. Ahhh, the 90's - the height of the silk flower's popularity.

I'm in a sharing mood today, lucky you. So, here are two golden nuggets for your entertainment. My very first query written by a 25-year-old me. I didn't know anything about publishing back then.

And of course, my very first rejection. But, let me brag a bit. I got a request, from the VP of Harper Collins. And yeah, I know, I got a rejection from that same VP.

My letter is funny, request or not. Enjoy.

And then recently, there was another first. A big one. The first time I landed a book contract completely on my own—no literary agent, no safety net, just me, my work, and a whole lot of nerve(s). By then I’d collected enough rejections to wallpaper a living room, so I knew what “no” sounded like. But this time, the answer was yes. A real yes. A contract. My name on the dotted line.

That first solo book contract didn’t erase the sting of the earlier rejections or magically make me fearless. What it did was quieter and better. It proved that persistence counts. That learning as you go counts. That sometimes you have to be brave enough to knock on the door yourself, even if your hand is shaking.

So, here’s what I know about firsts now: they don’t stop happening, even when you’re older and supposedly wiser. Some are messy. Some are magical. Some make great stories years later. And some—like betting on yourself and winning—become the ones you carry with you as proof. Proof that you showed up. Proof that you tried. Proof that you didn’t quit.

PORTAL, my YA paranormal novel releases from Collective Ink late 2026.

Stop back next Sunday for a fresh new blog post. And thanks for dropping by today.