ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I know that I’ve sometimes made empty though convincing promises that some individuals could win a spot on these pages in exchange for things like faster printing service, deeper bakery discounts, a hotel room with a view of the park. However, I was always in a hurry and never kept a list. While I feel awful about it, there is nothing to be done now, and I can only hope that those kind, compliant people do not read this book or even learn of its existence. But there are some things for which no list is required, as I am reminded of certain words and acts of goodwill every few minutes of the day.

During one especially laborious phase of this writing process, I called my agent and threatened to find a real job. I could be a prison guard or bottle soda pop, for the daily terror and repetitive drudgery of both jobs seemed in line with what was being required of me right then. Liz said, “Nobody wants you to fail. We love you.” It was as necessary a thing as I had ever heard.

“We” are the people who have wished me well during this process and embraced my daughters and me at every turn. I want to thank Barbara, David, and Michael Batts for encouraging responsible eccentricity; John David Batts for reading my mind and carrying me down Lexington Avenue and beyond; Professor William E. Leuchtenburg for making me see humanity in history; Sandy and Winston Page for their example of love; Lewis Black for his feat of revitalization; Jim Wolcott for his kind wisdom; Irv Coates for the odor of his grand Reader’s Corner in Raleigh; Anna Jardine for her hard work; Liz Darhansoff for her steady guidance; and my editor, Marian Wood, smart, driven, honest. That “we” has cheered me along in various ways, and I thank Michael Gibbons, Amy Tan, Bart O’Connor, John Grisham, Chuck and Katherine Frazier, Barry Moser, Stella Connell, Jane Pasanen, Judith Lawson, Lee Smith, Susan Gladen, Susan Ketchin, Oscar Hijuelos, Chuck Verrill, Nancy Olson, Jan Taylor, John and Mel Evans, Susanne Marrs, Dr. Lewis Thorpe, Nancy Stafford, Tony Reevy, Oprah Winfrey, Winston and Ann Clinton Groom, Morris Dees, Jo Ann Pritchard Morris, Will and Becky McKee, Bro and Danny Williams, Pat Conroy, Harley Easter, June Crain, Mimi Rogers, Joan Micklin Silver, Doug and Melinda Marlette, Susan May Pratt, Ken Mitchell, Bernie and Katie Reeves, Mary Edna Williams, Mary Ann Kahn, my sister Alice, and my aunt Jeanette Bloodworth, whose suggestion that we start our own religion will always amaze me.

I think of Eudora Welty, who recited a poem to me from her memories of how the Great Flu Epidemic of 1918 affected her town and her family. She said, “It goes, ‘I had a little bird, his name was Inza. I opened the window, and in-flew-Inza.’ You ought to use that in your book. That’s how they helped explain to the little children about death. You see, there was so much of it.”

And there seemed to be so much of it while this novel was being written. Faith Sale, my editor and closest friend, Willie Morris, Joseph Heller, Tim McLaurin, Al Braselton, and dear Jeanne Braselton. After September 11, I wrote harder, moving the novel in a new, darker direction, for these shocks of mortality had made anything less feel like just that. I honor the people, living and gone, who made this long journey possible. In my life I’ve loved them all.