My name is Kristina McBride.

I write books.

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This is the Life . . .

Sinking into the act of writing is amazing. There is nothing like hitting that zone where you’re only aware of the events occurring in your imagination. Writing is magical. Transformative. And I am so fortunate to experience that magical transformation each and every day, to be living the life I have always dreamed for myself – the life of an author.

It still seems surreal. There was the first book (!). And the second book (!!). Then I sold my third (!!!), and life felt more amazing than I could have imagined. There were the obligatory rounds of revision. The revisions were big, but I made my way through, no problem, no complaints. I loved this story and was dedicated to putting in the time and thought and heart required to make A MILLION TIMES GOODNIGHT as strong as it could possibly be before publication. Because publication was where I was headed . . . I had proof.

There was the round of copy edits, and the first pass pages, seeing my cover for the first time (Swoon!), and then receiving a hefty box of advance copies in the mail. The book was actually going to be a book in just a few short months! I was elated! Even more so when I found out it was time to reveal the cover, which is always exciting, one of those milestone moments that every author relishes. And relish I did, posting my beautiful cover on Facebook and Twitter, adding it here to my website, even offering an advance copy through a giveaway. I’d finally made it to the fun part! The work was complete, the struggle all struggled out, and it was time to coast my way to the pub date of July 27, 2015. It felt amazing.


For all of one week.


Eight days after my cover reveal, I received a devastating call from my editor. Egmont USA was closing. They would not publish any books after June of 2015. Which meant my shiny new novel, the one with the gorgeous new cover, would not be released. I was shocked, devastated, and numb for days, not just about my book, but about losing my lovely editor, about all the books that were lost. The little things seemed so big – telling my family, taking the cover off my website, making the announcement on social media sites, opening the returned package of completed first pass pages (which are never supposed to be returned to an author), storing my box of advance copies away because I simply could not look at them any longer. I wallowed. I sighed. I cried, and I am so not a crier. I ate as much chocolate as I could handle. And then I ate some more.

Then something happened . .  .

I started to hope. I reminded myself that this book still has a chance. A good one, right? I mean, the thing is solid. Rights have reverted and more editors will have the chance to read and consider, editors who might just have ideas to shift or tweak or rearrange something to make this story even stronger than it already is. And on that positive note, I let it go. It’s all I can do at this point. It’s all any author can do after completing a novel. Which loops me right back around to the beginning, to the crazy-as-shit reminder that I’m living the life of an author. That this is the life of an author – the magic of the writing, the struggle of revision, the offering of heart and soul to each story, riding the highs of acceptance and the lows of rejection – it’s all a crazy swirl of amazing and I’m here, living this life I have chosen for myself. I’m reminded that even when I’m feeling heartache, I’m in the game. And all of a sudden, I feel like the luckiest person in the world.


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