"I'll Do the Hoping For You."

Yesterday, I text the Local Artist to tell her that a literary agent called to offer representation for my novels.

Finally!  After all these years! After a decade of "we don't want this" and "no" and "we'll pass on this."

The Amazing Agent doesn't just want one of my novels; he's interested in a whole series I wrote years ago.  

I'm casual about it. I'm not telling hardly a soul. Something in me can't hope yet. 

But the Local Artist screams with joy on the phone. She's so happy for me. She's bubbling up with hope.

"I'm just not as excited as I could be," I tell her. "I guess it's hard to have hope after this long."

"I'll hope for you," she says. 

I'll hope for you. 

I love her. She hopes for me when I feel hopeless. Even more, when I stop by her house, she has a huge bouquet of balloons--one that shouts CONGRATULATIONS--a gift card for coffee, and a glorious golden pen (she knows one of the characters in my novels has an obsession with beautiful pens). 

It's over the top. It's too much.

It's just what I needed. 

I'll hope for you. 

Living with flair means we hope and go over the top for friends who maybe can't hope yet. We're too much (because I think you can't have too much hoping). 

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It's true! I am signing with a literary agency after all this time. I'll keep you posted! Do you have friends who do the hoping for you?