I have now joined the ranks of millions of writers. The rejection was brief, polite, and delivered by e-mail. But of course I had such hopes. Maybe I should frame it!

Neither my sister nor I want to carry books to Ireland and try to sell them there out of a suitcase. In fact, we have no clue as to how to go about marketing our book to an Irish audience. Where to begin?

I read the Irish Times on line first thing each morning with a cup of tea. It's better to lull myself into a "God's in his heaven and all's right with the world" moment, than launch into The Guardian or the BBC and discover the truth. So Irish news comes first. Irish authors are always featured on the Irish Times website. Writing about writers and writing in Irish newspapers is as common there as writing about politicians here. By wandering through those articles and the links they provided (like Alice going deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole), I came across advice to would-be writers, as well as a long list of Irish publishers and their contact information. This was a brilliant find. After I read through each of their websites, the list was significantly narrowed: only seven publishers seemed to be interested in memoirs, ideally with an Irish theme. Still, that gave me seven possibilities, seven little packages of hope.

Five of the publishers would accept proposals by e-mail. Each requested a variation on the theme of: what is the book about? who is the author? what is the potential market?, what does a table of contents look like? and of course, send us a few sample chapters. Well that was easy - I could send the whole book, except that the PDF file was too large to attach to e-mail. There are ways around sending big files by e-mail, and eventually I found one that was free. I was ready.

I asked some publisher friends here whether one should approach publishers one at a time and waiting for a rejection before launching the next query. They laughed with derision and said the publishing world was not that polite! So over the next couple of weeks, I sent out five well-structured e-mails with idiot-proof, bite-sized attachments that would be transmitted smoothly. It seemed way too complex to go through a third party delivery system just to show that the book was not just finished but laid out beautifully.

Two of the publishers did not accept e-mail submissions. Initially I was irritated. But there was a delicious pleasure in assembling a package to send to them. The complete manuscript, all 194 pages of it, lay there in a cocoon of bubble wrap, in its own perfectly-sized box (Tim has many of these from being on the receiving end of myriad book purchases), topped with the extra sheets of information, and crowned with a properly signed cover letter. I loved sealing it up with masses of Scotch tape, addressing it to a publishing house in Ireland, and taking it to the local post office. You have to fill out a customs form to send a box to Ireland, and the postmaster asked what was in the box ("a manuscript"), and the value. I paused. "None" was the correct answer, but I followed that up with "only a lot of dreams".

I got a polite e-mail from one of the publishers to say my package had arrived. And so I wait. Six more chances. 

There's an assembly line in the living room: books alone, books with packing slips, books with packing slips and mailing envelopes; completed envelopes ready for USPS. Somewhere along the way I ran out of sticky tape to attach the mailing labels, and then ran out of envelopes. I still have lots of books!

Yesterday, which was St. Patrick's Day, I sent out an e-mail to everyone I know in the whole world, telling them about 'Abbey Girls', our website, and details of how they might acquire a copy of the book if they wanted. I agonized about the mass mailing, exactly what to write, and how much of a naked marketing ploy it was. But being almost 65 makes a lot of things possible, including feeling joyful and happy and proud of our achievement. In fairness, I omitted to send the e-mails to our relatives just yet. I wanted to test the waters in the rest of the world first! I sent the e-mails first thing on the morning of St. Patrick's Day, and then closed my computer and spent the rest of the day clearing brush and making the garden ready for the growing season. By the end of the day I hadn't the energy to spit, let alone open a computer and read responses. Fortunately the local bar, The Roxbury Tavern, was hosting a St. Patrick's Day evening with great food and music. So that finished me off and I slept the sleep of the dead.

This morning, refreshed, I checked in to e-mail. There were about 60 responses, as well as lots of orders. I've had a wonderful day reading these messages and catching up with old friends. Each message allowed me to remember how I know this person, what part of my life they featured in (a few even go back to boarding school days), and how much I enjoyed their friendship, and still do. I've stayed in regular contact with many of them, but some I've not heard from in several years, and the book provided a wonderful excuse to catch up where we left off. I feel very happy.

Tomorrow I'll but more envelopes and sticky tape. I'll be smiling all the while.

The boxes of books have arrived from the printer, rather unceremoniously I might add. There was no notification from UPS, and by chance I found four big boxes by the mailbox on my way to the post office. The driveway is a hazard in Winter, so no delivery trucks come down it. But usually they leave a note and expect us to pick up the parcel at the local depot. The boxes were each wrapped in plastic, and as it was a bitterly cold day with not a chance of precipitation, it hardly mattered. Still, it would have been unfortunate to find them a few days later under a pile of snow.

As it happened, I was heading to the local post office to mail the manuscript to an Irish publisher. The juxtaposition of these two events was telling. On the one hand Val and I have self-published a book, had it printed, and are now owners of many copies that we will endeavor to sell. On the other hand, I was doing what countless authors have done in the past, mailing their manuscript to an unknown publisher and an uncertain fate. I had to fill out a customs declaration form, and when asked by the postmaster as to the value of the package, all I could say was 'zero'.

What comes next?  That was the question I posed to my wonderful Editor. We'll meet next week so that I can hear what she did to sell her own book through Amazon.

I wonder will I ever hear back from the Irish publisher? They said they would respond in 3-6 months.