For general assistance, advice, guidance, and love, I am joyfully indebted to:
Kathy Cain, for early enthusiasm and the unforgettable reassurance that “the Irish use the word ‘fuck’ as if it were a comma.” My favorite official Irishman, Billy Meleady, without whom this book would not be possible—or necessary! The Gorgeous Group—Kate Feiffer, Laura Roosevelt, Cathy Walthers, Melissa Hackney, and Jamie Stringfellow—for responding at all the right spots in all the right ways, when this was still in utero. Brian Caspe, Eowyn Mader, and my ever-wonderful attorney Marc H. Glick for being my hearty “early readers.” My fantastic agent, Liz Darhansoff, and equally fantastic editor, Jennifer Brehl, for their continued faith in me, especially in supporting and standing by as I shifted gears. In an age obsessed with “branding” you have chosen to let me un-brand myself and that’s a biggie.
For the “radical hospitality” of providing me a space and opportunity to create during an otherwise very chaotic time, Hedgebrook Retreat is the nonpareil of writing residencies. If I wrote their name seventeen times here, it would not be enough to express my gratitude. But they are not the only ones who opened a door and provided a desk to work at. For that I must also warmly thank Deb Dobkin & Tim Bernett, Lynne Adams & George Fifield, Dick Davenport & Derry Woodhouse, and Louisa Williams & Chris Brooks. Much of the best work done on this book was done in your guest rooms, porches, and at your kitchen tables.
A shout-out to the “real” Alex Craggs, a British writer who participated in an auction for Authors for Philippines, Red Cross Typhoon Haiyan Appeal . . . and won the right to have a character named after him. (I believe he thought he would get to be a feudal lord; he was a great sport about the change of genre.) Douglas Finn, in exchange for holding my Luddite hand through the terror of computer work, is similarly responsible for naming Dougie Martin.
For individuals generously offering their time and expertise (I take full responsibility for all errors):
“Podunk Plenipotentiary” Mark Judson; my cousin Johannes Jerez Van Osten; Masters of the Industry Chris Parnell at Sony, Steve Breimer, Rich Green, and of course Marc H. Glick again; Mim Douglas, the ethical housecleaner; fight choreographer Scott Barrow; fiddler Jay Ansill; Dr. Michelle Jasny, veterinarian; Cindy Kane and Wayne Ranney, who know the Grand Canyon far better than I do; and Beverly Conklin and Linda Apple at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
A special thanks, I suppose, to the USCIS and Department of Homeland Security for our (relatively mild) matriculation into the immigration process.
And finally, to Anna Yukevich, who innocently prompted my newly minted husband to protest for the first time ever: “She’s not my dog, she’s my wife’s dog.” I suspected right away there was a book in that.