I owe a great debt to the following people, places, and institutions: my agent, Jin Auh, for her strength, guidance, advocacy, and editorial help; Jessica Friedman, Jackie Ko, and everyone at the Wylie Agency; my editor, Allison Lorentzen, whose instincts, generosity, and steady hand have been a great mitzvah both for me and for this book; Katherine Marino and Sarah Whitman-Salkin for making introductions; Nick Bromley and everyone at Viking for their hard work; Will Staehle for the killer cover art; Andy Fink for my close-up; those friends who read this manuscript in an earlier form and improved it immensely: Marijeta Bozovic, Alexis Gideon, Leslie Jamison, Taylor Materne, Frank Sisti, Jr., Diana Spechler, Chris Stokes, and Ben Wasserstein; Ruth and Liam Flaherty for my delightful stay at Seventy-ninth Street; Jack, Bo, Ann Pettibone Riccobono, and the Riccobono family for my happy winter in Rock City; Teddy Wayne for his support; Vice Admiral Nick Britell; fellow warrior Nick Louvel; Cameron Kirby, Jesse Schleger, and Ryan Snider, whose visits to Mississippi freed me from my head; Julia Turner, shrewd editor and pal; the New York Society Library and its librarians for fighting the good (quiet) fight; the Jentel Artist Residency Program, a sanctuary; Cormac McCarthy, whose judge said things about fatherhood I stole and gave to the character Bernard Apache; Lan Samantha Chang, who encouraged me for better or worse; my wise and generous teachers at Ole Miss: Tom Franklin, David Galef, Michael Knight, and Brad Watson; my writer pals from Oxford: Matt Brock, Greg Brownderville, Sean Ennis, Will Gorham, Alex Taylor, and Neal Walsh; Barry Hannah, “the sweetest mother in heaven”; my grandparents Ellie, Ted, Evie, and Sey, providers of love, food, stories, and wisdom; my family and friends, bringers of laughter and luck; my parents, Beverly and Jeffrey, lifelong models of love, care, good humor, and kindness, to whom this book is dedicated (thanks, Mom, too, for the title); and my big sister, Nathania, for everything.