To Denise Shannon whose luminous patience, generosity, and literary divination is unparalleled.
To Megan Lynch whose brilliance and magical literary zeal made it happen, Eleanor Kriseman, and everyone at Ecco whose incredible support brought the book into the physical world.
To Arthur Flowers, George Saunders, and Dana Spiotta, three brilliant points of light who led the way.
To the Fabulous Five: Rachel Abelson, Mildred Barya, Martin De Leon, Rebecca Fishow, and Dave Nutt whose incisive feedback and fantastic work goaded/inspired me.
To the Syracuse University Creative Writing Program for the space and time to read, to write, to be an artist.
To Carmen Amaya, my prophet and earliest reader.
To Paul Cody who was the first to go to the mat.
To Anais Koivisto, my moral center and artistic high tide.
To Linda Longo, my fairy godmother.
To Ben Marcus who plucked me out of obscurity.
To Stephen Squibb who fed me whiskey and always made me feel it was gonna happen.
To Jessie Torrisi who let me slip stories under her door.
To Baron Vaughn, my brother and best friend.
To Ryan Senser and Team 383 who were my haven.
To Leo Allen who introduced me to the mysterious workings of the S.S.S.C.
To Melissa Cleary Pearson and Vineeta Shingal whose great hearts made a small, crucial donation.
To the Colgate Writers Conference who told me I was a writer.
To Andrew Milward, Steven Barthleme and the Center for Writers at the University of Southern Mississippi; Charlie Baxter and the Breadloaf Writers Conference.
To The American Reader, Granta.com, The O. Henry Prize Stories, The Cupboard, Fence, and Bryan Hurt.
To my family who loved and made me.
To Julian Isaiah whose imminent arrival forced me to finish the book.
Last and Most to Christopher Brunt “. . . when I touch you / in each of the places we meet / in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying / and resurrected.” ~ Bob Hicok