After a full breakfast on Saturday morning, Brad and I began putting together a plan for the week. We had a goal of getting the book sold within a month.

Each week we would contact twenty-five publishing houses. Five per day, with manuscripts sent and phone calls and emails written. Brad had mainly been published at Simon & Schuster, with the exception of a few books which he went the self-publishing route.

Brad had an agent in New York, and she seemed like the best bet to immediately get an offer. Brad had already sent off the book, but he shared with me that it goes thru quite a lengthy process from beginning to end; writing to publishing. Editorial review, cover design, manuscript design, approval, final approval and the like.

Her name was Ellen. Ellen had successfully climber the ladder from a junior agent to Editor-in-Chief. She had been in charge of everything, from one department to another across the industry time and time again. And she was a shark. She had a razor-sharp eye for the business and a rolodex to rival anyone in New York.

She was quick to respond that Wednesday that the book was being considered. Brad and I continued to "get out the word" on a daily basis. We were wasting no time; as we were playing offense and not defense. Brad had shared with me that this was a rough game to win.

I was talking with my father daily and having him ask me about my progress with the novel is what kept him going; as he had had plenty of heartache on his plate. I additionally wrote him letters, and tried to keep him in the loop with text messages as we made progress.

Brad was nothing more than extraordinary. His cause and concern were genuine. I just knew in my heart of hearts that we would soon get an offer.

I would not realize how long it would take to grieve over my mother's death. She had lived a long and fruitful life with my father; but that was not the point...she was gone, and I would not see her for a long time.

Dad and I spent the week together. I called to check on the kids and Brad daily, but he had things covered at Casa Amor. I longed to be there with them, but it was important to spend time with Dad in his moment of grief. It would take him much longer to push away the feelings of emotional turmoil; the demons within, that would haunt him nightly for a while around mom's passing.

Brad was chipping away at his contacts. In his opinion, he felt that he would find a publisher for my book and that it would not take much time. I, on the other hand, was more concerned with Dad. Despite living a hard week with him, we did have a few good times and a few laughs over things. What consoled him most is that he knew in his head that she was in a much better place. Looking down on us...and smiling.

I flew back to San Diego International on a Friday. Brad and the children greeted me at the airport around 6:00 PM. I was famished, so the first order of business would be dinner. It would not take us long to find a suitable and familiar restaurant in the Gas Light District.

Florent was a new spot in town, but we decided that it would be a staple in the restaurant scene around our house. After all, we were just minutes away and the food was phenomenal. After dinner, we decided to go o a local club for a nite cap. Both of the children were old enough at this point to enjoy a nite out, and having spent the last week in a somber mood, I needed to be enlivened.

We danced the nite away, and drank most of what the bar had on tap. In the morning I would be sorry that I had imbibed to excess, but I had been smart enough to drink a lot of water and take a few Advil before bed.

Brad had the grill fired up in the morning, and a nice breakfast consisting of a multitude of things would be the first order of the day before chipping away at selling my novel.