Some writers thrive on the solitude that comes with the craft; I am not one of them.
So, first and foremost, immeasurable gratitude to Cicely Richardson, without whom this book would not exist. Alone, I would not have survived the journey through some twelve years of columns to this final destination. And heaven knows I could not have paid for the years of collaboration we shared, nor would I have found an editor who could read my intent with the familiarity we forged over a decade at the Journal Opinion.
Thanks also to my first editor at the newspaper, Charlie Glazer. He always says he did little for me. Don’t believe him.
Although most of these columns predate my working relationship with current JO editor Alex Nuti-de Biasi, his influence is not absent. Editing the old with Cicely, it was impossible not to see through the lens of working with Alex in the present.
A posthumous debt of gratitude is owed to Penny Evans of Oakland, California. She believed in me as a writer long before I did. Penny said she wanted to be an editor in her next life: I hope she reincarnates while I’m still writing.
Heartfelt hugs to Tom Bryer, man of all trades, who eased the transition from the old home to the new in more ways than can be described here.
Preparing the original submission packet for Bunker Hill Publishing, I called on a diverse group of reader-friends to help me choose the five (“only five!”) columns to represent the manuscript. Clearly, their input was invaluable. Thank you to Mike Mickleson, who appreciates the columns from Hamilton, Montana; ninety-plus-year-old native Vermonter Alice McLure; retired Ryegate farmers Holly and Nick McLure; local artist Marie Witte; and good neighbors Ron Cressy and Kevin Proctor.
Kevin also has my special gratitude for patiently stalking the foliage during a particularly pesky fall to get a good shot for the book cover.
For their interest in this project and for holding my body, mind, and spirit together during the long labor of Voices’ birth, I’m grateful to acupuncturist Amy Wheeler and chiropractor Dr. Marc Sinclair.
A warm embrace to former student and fencer Heather McClintock, whose willingness to contribute her considerable professional skills for a simple author photo added another ring to the circle of friends bringing this book into being.
Thank you to Dick McCormack, who allowed me to borrow his song title, and for writing lyrics that model the best of storytelling.
What-would-I-do-without-you appreciation to longtime friend Nils Rosenquest of San Francisco, who guided me through my first book contract, and to Dee Drugach of Nobleboro, Maine, who answered my all-hours calls for reader feedback and general hand-holding.
To Ib and Carole Bellew of Bunker Hill Publishing, my gratitude for your dedication to values rare in today’s book business … and for helping make my dream come true.
My experience with copy editor Laura Jorstad took the terror out of a potentially traumatic stage of publishing. With wit, intelligence, and an overarching respect for the writer’s voice, Laura helped me polish the book to its final sheen. And in the process, I found a kindred spirit of words and woods.
Many people appear in the columns throughout this collection. To all of you, many thanks for enriching my life and for allowing me to steal your best lines.