“Word-stealing goblins . . .” I said. Then I waited a moment, breath held. Would my editor like the idea? It was so different from my first middle-grade book, Riverland.
“Oh! YES! With truffle-pigs?” she replied.
Reader, I love working with editor Maggie Lehrman. Gilfillan and Starflake are, in my mind, her talented pets that I’ve just borrowed, brought into being through that first conversation about The Ship of Stolen Words. To her credit, Maggie barely batted an eyelash when she discovered that I’d built mechanical flying word hogs into the story too.
These and a thousand other thank-yous go to Maggie, Emily Daluga, Brooke Shearhouse, Jenny Choy, and the entire team at Abrams for supporting my portal-hopping books. To cover artist Shan Jiang and designer Marcie Lawrence, I love how you’ve captured Tolver and Sam’s story—thank you so much for your beautiful work.
In portal narratives, characters go from one world to another in order to work through big issues. In the case of The Ship of Stolen Words, what began as my own problem (I have on occasion apologized way too much for things that aren’t my doing, like the weather!) became a discussion about what language means, the importance of practicing different approaches, and even getting things wrong, and the magic that words (and dictionaries, and mail) have when they’re meaningful. It doesn’t go without saying that a book is its own kind of portal. I love the adventure of passing through a story, and the surprises I find (even as—especially as) an author.
To those who’ve accompanied me on this adventure— especially Tom, Iris, Susan & Chris, Beth, Jeff & Kalliope; my early readers Carlos Hernandez, Aliette de Bodard, Kenna Blaylock, Ellen Klages, Rachel Hartman, Kelly Lagor, Marissa Lingen, A.C. Wise, and Rachel Winchester; and the community of librarians, booksellers, authors, and educators that brings so much joy to my world—from the Philadelphia kidlit community to MG BookVillage, MG LitChat, and my Patreons, to those who have written, emailed, and posted amazing things online. To my professional communities, and the teachers within all of them, from Bruisers, Sparklepony, and b.org, to all the discussions on the Internet. To Elizabeth Bear, who once took my sorries away so I could practice other words. And to my colleagues at Western Colorado University MFA, SFWA’s YA and Middle Grade group, and especially my fantastic agent, Andrea Somberg, who also doesn’t blink (much) when I come to her with the next wild idea. A heartfelt thank you. I couldn’t do this without you.
To the summer camp by the Chesapeake Bay in Worton, Maryland, where I first found my voice, thank you always. And to you, reading this book, I wish you many adventures and wonderful words.