Although the writing of this book predated the Hurricane Katrina disaster which struck New Orleans and the Gulf Coast in August 2005, I would be horribly remiss if I failed to acknowledge the dozens of instances of assistance, both large and small, which sustained my family and me during those harrowing months of potential homelessness. Such kindness and generosity can most likely never be repaid in kind. I only hope that, when I have the opportunity to step up to the plate myself, I will prove to be as giving. And I will do my damndest to teach my boys to practice the sorts of compassion and thoughtfulness which were shared with us.
When the temporary housing Dara’s mother, Phyllis Levinson, attempted to secure for us fell through (unbeknownst to her, her condo in Hallandale, Florida, had become infested with mold due to a leak from the upstairs apartment), Larry Leibowitz and his family lent us the use of a condo in Surfside for September and October, probably saving me from going out of my mind. The unit we stayed in ended up being in the same building where Isaac Bashevis Singer had written many of his novels. My parents and my in-laws, the Hirschfeld family, put us up in hotels until Larry was able to settle us into the condo. My sister, brother, and sister-in-law collected enough clothes, toys, and essential personal items from their neighbors and coworkers in Tampa to fill an entire Dodge Durango, and Ric and Robyn drove this treasure trove to us across Alligator Alley. Old Miami friends whom I hadn’t seen in years — Robert and Lori Haydu, Stanley and Mia Wong, and Jeff Jackson and his family — reunited with me, met my family, and gathered so much baby equipment for us that we ended up redonating half of it to other families displaced by Katrina. My dear cousins, May and Joe Miller, babysat my two boys and let me use their Internet connection for hours on end. Phyllis also helped Dara and me buy a van to replace our cars, feared lost. Family friend and handyman Butch Martin rescued our eight housecats, trapped for three weeks with little food or water; and Clyde Faust kindly housed them, free of charge, at his small animal shelter until we could return home.
The science fiction and fantasy community is truly an extended family, one I am especially proud to belong to. Fans and pros alike were breathtakingly generous to us. We were attending Bubonicon in Albuquerque, New Mexico, when the storm hit and we learned we wouldn’t be able to fly home anytime soon. Jane Lindskold, Pati Nagle, S. M. and Jan Stirling, Yvonne Coates, and the members of the Albuquerque Science Fiction Society fed us and did their best to keep our spirits up. Craig Chrissinger and Wendy Jay gathered clothes for all four of us, and books, videos, and toys for Levi and Asher. Nina and Ron Else from the dealers room took up a collection for us. Knowing that my computers and backup files might have been lost in the flood, Steve and Jan donated a Dell laptop which they weren’t using anymore. From Austin, Texas, Bradley Denton shipped me a copy of WordPerfect, my favorite word processor, and sent signed copies of all of his novels. Lucius Shepard, Adam-Troy Castro, and Gordon Van Gelder all mailed copies of books and magazines to fill up my hours (which ended up not being nearly so empty as I’d thought they would be, not with a toddler and an infant in tow, plus efforts to run a statewide food program in Louisiana from public library computers in Miami, Florida). Once we were down in Miami, Adam-Troy and Judi collected children’s clothes, toys, and even a Cozy Coupe car from their neighbors, then personally delivered them to our hotel. Deborah Layne, an editor I’d met only very briefly, wired us money, as did Lou and Xin Anders. Perhaps most impressively, an ad-hoc committee of Gulf South science fiction fans, many of them victims of the storm themselves, tracked me and my family down in Florida and mailed us two care packages, even including groceries.
I also owe great thanks to my agent, Denise Dumars, who stepped in for me when Dan Hooker passed away and who continued to believe in this book, despite many disappointments; and to Marty Halpern and Jacob Weisman, who shared Denise’s enthusiasm and faith.