WHEN AN ASPIRING YOUNG WRITER RECENTLY HEARD I’D SOLD A BOOK, she approached me for advice. “How’d you do it?” she asked, as if I had some secret formula to hand over.
“It’s easy,” I said. “First: Write for twenty-six years. Then: Sell a book.”
She laughed, and then I gave her some actual advice—but I’ve thought about her question since then. How did I manage to sell this thing?
The real answer is actually much more involved and goes back much further.
First: I was lucky enough to be born into a supportive home that encouraged creativity. When I was growing up, my parents made sure I had all the pens, paper, paints, brushes, lessons, instruments … whatever I needed for whatever creative task I was into. When I went through a piano-playing phase, my dad came home from work one day with a beat-up baby grand that he’d bought in a bar for fifty bucks. He put it in our basement and it was all mine. I pounded on that thing for years. As they say in Ladakh, my parents are like the precious jewels I have been given but do not deserve. They certainly are my biggest fans. If you see a woman walking around southern Florida wearing a placard that advertises this book, that’s my proud mother.
Second: I had the good fortune of attending Manchester Central High School in Manchester, New Hampshire, and having Mrs. Singer as my freshman English teacher. Before I showed up in her class, I had never read a book for fun. I played sports and watched TV. Books, in my mind, were for nerds. But when Mrs. Singer handed me a copy of The World According to Garp by John Irving and challenged me to read it, a whole new world opened up for me. She pushed me hard in that class, never letting me settle for the first easy quips I’d dash off on my assignments. And somewhere during that year, without my even knowing it, she planted the seeds that would one day grow into the writer’s life I now live.
Third: I had the benefit of many skilled and generous readers who helped shape the early drafts of this book. To Brent Askari, Sarah Skillin Woodard, Molly Friedrich, Meredith Jordan, and Rebecca Gwyn: Thank you for your time, your feedback, and your friendship. Special thanks go to Rebecca’s friend Adrienne Blair, a woman I have never met, who gave this story its first professional edit. The fact that such a skilled woman would spend countless hours offering thousands of insightful suggestions to a complete stranger … for free!… makes me believe I must have done something wonderful in a previous life.
Fourth: I am friends with the brilliant writer Colin Woodard, who was generous enough to refer me to his equally brilliant agent, Jill Grinberg. Jill does not need new writers. She has a robust stable of successful authors who keep her more than busy. But Jill also has a passion for talent and an eagerness to discover something fresh. In an industry that is famous for saying no to unproven newcomers, Jill said yes to me, and for that I will be forever grateful. Plus, marching this book around Manhattan with her was a thrill I will never forget. Big thanks also to Jill’s team, Katelyn Detweiler and Cheryl Pientka, for making me feel so at home.
Fifth: I hit the mother-flipping jackpot when Susanna Porter became my champion at Random House. A publishing professional told me: “If there was an All-Star team of editors in New York City, Susanna would be one of the captains.” Every time she put a smiley face at the end of one of my sentences, my heart sang. Every time I was smart enough to take one of her editorial suggestions, my manuscript got better. To Priyanka Krishnan, Jennifer Tung, Richard Callison, Robbin Schiff, Diane Hobbing, Crystal Velasquez, David Moench, Quinne Rogers, Allison Schuster, Toby Ernst, Donna Sinisgalli, and the entire Ballantine team: Thanks for surrounding me with so much experience and support.
Sixth: I was encouraged to keep writing and dreaming while I raised my family. To my children, Logan and Jackson: Thank you for being not only a part of my life but a part of this story. I know you didn’t ask to be treated as characters in anyone’s memoir. I just hope it comes across on every page how much I love and appreciate you. And finally, to Traca: I cannot thank you enough. For twenty-six years of encouragement, for helping raise our beautiful kids, for putting up with all the crap that comes with marrying a writer, this book is dedicated to you.