The moment you hear the word yes, things change. So I’d like to thank my agent, Leigh Huffine, at Regal Literary—for saying yes, and for providing so much thoughtful advice, guidance, and support in making this book what it is. You made me feel at home when I had no idea what would come next.
I’d like to thank my editor, George Witte, at St. Martin’s Press, for his constant enthusiasm, his deft hand in the editing process, and his sincere belief in this book. And thank you to all the intelligent, driven people at St. Martin’s whose handprints are everywhere.
To my family, I’d first like to thank my father, who did not live to see the completion of this novel, but who was there, all the same. Dad, it’s like you always said—I outkicked my coverage this time. It was our time together that helped make this happen.
I’d like to thank my immediate family—Mom, Paul, Lucie, Owen, Samantha, and Abigail—for dealing with my obsessive tendencies as I plunged again and again into a churning vat of Word documents, Web pages, biographies, photocopies, notebooks, and military histories, and for welcoming me back into the world when I came up for air (however briefly) and to say hello.
I’d like to thank the servicemen who helped me discern and digest the complexity of life as a soldier in Afghanistan—you provided details that weren’t found in any book, and they resonated with me long after completing the work.
I’d like to thank Audrey Niffenegger, my mentor, adviser, and friend. Your help was invaluable, and I am constantly shocked by how much you know—about seemingly everything. Thank you so much.
I’d like to thank Austrian Bakery (now called Vienna Café) in Chicago, for serving me my usual—coffee and an egg croissant sandwich—every day, every month, and eventually every year, at my seat by the window, looking out onto Clark. When I think of this book, I think of that window, and my frequently misfiring laptop.
Last, I’d like to thank my wife and best friend, Kate. For everything, and for things so small and so large that only we know all of them, and for all the moments to come.