A novel is not just written. It begins as a spark of an idea, which is fanned into a story plan. That plan is researched and mapped out. Characters are created, molded, fully developed, and given voices. Scenes are crafted and built into chapters. A narrative is constructed, composed, goaded, guided, strengthened, tightened, deepened, rewritten, revised, and tweaked. I could not have done these things alone.
I am extremely grateful to everyone who helped me bring this book to life. It could not have happened without Kent Brown and the Highlights Foundation’s writers’ workshops, where I learned to dig deep beneath the surface to mine every ounce I could. My efforts were guided by faculty members there, including:
Rich Wallace, who can always find what’s missing or not working, and steer me in the right direction.
Jerry Spinelli, who convinced me my dialect worked.
Jan Cheripko, who also gave helpful advice on dialect, and who can find metaphors in tomato plants.
Editor Carolyn Yoder, who always knows what needs more work and pushes me to rethink and strengthen.
My fellow writers at the workshops, who provided encouragement and friendship.
Accuracy meant being able to enter Adabel’s mind and see the world of Harlan County through her eyes. That required consultation with experts, and I need to thank:
Carson Camp, director of the Coke Ovens Museum in Dunlap, TN, and a direct descendant of a long line of coal miners, for sharing his knowledge of coal mining practices in the early twentieth century and for answering my endless questions.
The folks at the Kentucky Coal Mining Museum in Benham, KY, for showing me the life of a miner’s family, and for their patience with answering still more questions.
The staff at Eckley Miners’ Village in Eckley, PA, who showed me coal camp shanties, a company store, and a moonshine still.
Hugh Jordan, for showing me the old coke ovens and coal mining equipment in Dunlap, TN.
Patsy Clark, for her Southern wisdom and hospitality, and for her help with dialect.
Jim Johnson, expert on cars and trucks of the period, for introducing me to his 1928 Model A Ford.
I must also thank:
My first readers: Andrea Cheng, Reene Clark, Sally Derby, Josephine Keenan, Mary Ann Rosswurm, Linda Leopold Strauss, Rebecca Turney, and Tracy VonderBrink, who found time in their busy schedules to read a rough draft of this novel.
Ann Treacy, whose long-distance phone calls convinced me to keep going, and who wouldn’t let me give up.
Nora MacFarlane, who read an early version and scrutinized a later version, sending me immediate feedback.
Dave Richardson, who urged me to push my dialect further.
My Northern Kentucky critique group, who listened to chapter after chapter, commenting and encouraging through every step.
Most of all, I thank my husband, Jim, who drove me to the sites I visited for research, and who waited patiently while I dug up one more fact or took another picture of a moonshine still.