Since Gunmetal Black is my first novel, its completion and publication are part of a larger story of how I became a novelist. Many people contributed to this development in many ways, great and small, and I cannot possibly recall every kindness. To everyone who supported or encouraged me in any way, thank you. What follows are more particular expressions of gratitude.
Praise be to God for giving me the words and vision.
To my mother again, the strongest person I know, for giving me life, and teaching me so much. And to my stepfather, Marcelo “Yuyo” Aguiar, for taking such good care of her.
To my wife, Yajaira Yepez, Esq., for sharing your brains, beauty, passion, laughter, and love.
To my father, Hilario Serrano (1943–2002), a tough prince of salsa and the greatest storyteller I’ll ever know. Thanks, Pop, for letting me in.
To my beloved brother Alexander Serrano (1973–2003), a brave man and a genius of love. I miss you, baby brother.
To my beloved brother Ruben Serrano, a wordsmith, musician, athlete, and coach. Thanks for listening with a poet’s ear.
To my huge extended family, and para mi gente de Puerto Rico, Chicago, Philly/Bristol, and Nueva York.
To my badass uncle Eddie Pacheco. You were a real father figure when you didn’t need to be.
To Raymond Reyes. Thanks for letting me use your encyclopedia.
To my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Chang, who cried the first time she heard me read.
To my sixth grade teacher, Mr. Paul Tomasello, who taught responsibility, compassion, and self-control; and that every piece of writing must be rewritten and sanded like a piece of wood that you wish to make smooth.
To Peter Hilton, who ran the tutoring program and mentored teens at Onward Neighborhood House. Thanks for reading my one-page autobiography of the first thirteen years and coming to find me.
To Steve Lara, brother and lifelong friend. Thanks for digging the parts that I knew you would, but mostly for your huge heart.
To Annette Louise “Netty” Vargas, a true homegirl and the sister that I never had. Thanks for having my back, and for finishing the novel and leaving me a voice mail saying that it was good.
To the teachers and my fellow students at Wells High School in Chicago, especially the members of the Academic Olympics English Team that won first place three years in a row: Eli Martinez, Adriana Medina, Olga Rizo, and Christina Napoles.
To Tim Schellenberg, for listening to a true story involving my dad and a baseball bat covered in blood, and saying that if I wrote it someone might actually pay to publish it. That was the exact first moment I considered becoming a writer.
To the Suarez sisters, Anita, Genoa, and Lucha, for all the movies, and the many gifts, especially that summer all those years ago, when you gave me a journal and said that I should write something.
To Jose Valle, friend, mentor, and photographer, for interrupting my speech on writing with, “Dude, first you write. Then you’re a writer.” Brilliant.
To Jane Jerrard for drafting a critique of my first effort, even though you didn’t know me.
To my cousin Jeannie Vazquez for reading that first effort and passing it to a friend to read on a plane.
To my paisan Daniel Foerst, el salsero, for feeling this novel so much and letting me know with such enthusiasm.
To Carmen Santiago for finishing the last page and immediately saying that you couldn’t wait to see the movie.
To Cleo and Duke, two mutts, for keeping me company.
To Fanny Mei Po Moy for many reasons.
To the faculty, staff, and my fellow students at Shimer College, where I studied the classics and produced the first draft of Gunmetal Black as my thesis.
To the faculty and staff at St. John’s University School of Law, where I became a more disciplined writer.
To the instructors and students at the Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center in New York City, where I worked on both Gunmetal Black and Boogie Down.
To Dr. Adam Lynn and the other members of our little tribe. Thanks for listening.
To my excellent agent, Jennifer Cayea of Avenue A Literary, LLC. Thanks for representing me and also for giving me such terrific feedback. Your suggestions deepen the work.
To Karen Thomas, my editor at Grand Central Publishing. Thanks for seeing the potential.
And last, but never least, to Mrs. Marsha Brody, guardian angel and teacher of high school English. Without knowing me, based only on what you heard in the teachers’ lounge, you pulled a fast one and changed my schedule to enroll me in your creative writing class. It was the start of a beautiful journey. I never stop learning from you and I doubt that I could have become an attorney or a novelist without your influence. Thank you forever. I hope you are proud.