I remember vividly the call that changed my life. It was Tuesday, February 18. When the 1   rang in the kitchen of my Los Angeles, the  2   was Marty Banderas, a literary agent to whom I had sent a draft( ²Ý¸å )of my novel three weeks earlier. “I have a couple of   3  .” Banderas said. “First, how old are you?” “I'm 48,” I replied. “Are you in good   4    ?” “Yes, excellent. What’s this about? ” “I’ve sold your novels      5     one and a half million dollars.” I sat down in    6    . I had written fourteen novels in twenty years, but each one had been   7    by the publishers. I suppose many people would have been   8    , but not me. Each time, I just  get down to  writing another one.