Acknowledgments

Unending thanks to my mom and dad for their support, to my brother Quin for the endless icy runs along the overpass, to my sister Maria for always being there, to Lynn for being great, and to Arthur for the boops. Thank your all for teaching me to love more, every day.

Big thanks to the many friends who saw this book come about and kept me laughing: James McBride, Max Baehr, Abbie Walker, John Cheever, Jen Reese, Alex and Emily Wenner, Maddy Thaler, Jeramey Kraatz, Kim Kelly, Lily Domash, Matt Goldenberg, Ben Umanov, Luke Mecklenberg, Reed Bruemmer, JP Hooper, and Casey McIntyre for what she said at that airport food court.

A bowed head and clasped hands to Stacy Abrams, my intrepid editor at Entangled. Countless thanks to Tina Wexler, who cooled me down when I was fiery and stoked me up when I’d grown cold.

A raised fist for Melissa Harris, whose perseverance became my own. Melissa, I’m here if you need me.

To Azara. The stars, your eyes; the wind, my hand. I love you, I love you, I love you.

This book wouldn’t exist without three people we’ve lost, so here’s to them. The first is Nick Harris, who this thing is dedicated to, but screw it, I’ll raise a thousand glasses in his name. The second is JP Nocera, the only man who died without any enemies and the patron saint of weirdo guitarists. He is sorely missed. And last but not certainly least is Mr. Lemmy Kilmister, who passed away during the writing of this book but gave us perhaps the greatest back catalog in the history of music. I leave you with his immortal words: “Don’t you listen to a single word against rock and roll.”