Writers are a bit like gardeners. We plant seeds, lots of seeds, and hope they'll sprout and take hold in the muck that fertilizes such things and helps them grow. Like gardeners, we don’t always succeed. But when we do, and the result of our meticulous tending blooms, it’s a moment of such pride and satisfaction that it’s hard not to grin and gape and call out, “Hey, everybody! Look what I did!”
So, um, hey, everybody! Look what I* did!
Stephanie Rostan, Karen Kosztolnyik, Jennifer Bergstrom, Jennifer Robinson, Mary McCue, Natalie Ebel, Ellen Chan, Christine Foye and everyone at Gallery Books.
Erica Bauermeister, Randy Sue Coburn, Garth Stein and all of the writers I’m lucky enough to write and work with and hang out with in the Seattle7 and everywhere.
Tim Mooney, Jay Miazga, Stan Matthews, Kaila and Scott Raiby, Lynne Kinghorn and Margaret Meineke for technical assistance.
My bandmates in The Rejections, who’ve worked hard to make my launch extra special with a live performance and a special download coming soon to my website: Matt Gani, Paul Mariz, Stevie Kallos, Garth Stein and Ben Bauermeister. And special guest in Denver, Peter Fletcher.
All of the independent booksellers who faithfully serve and support readers, writers, and books, without politics, agenda, or fail. If I listed all who have been especially kind to my books and me, this page would never end.
My family: my dad, my sisters and inlaws, my nieces and nephews, my aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins. (I’m not kidding. They’re all amazing.)
And always, my dear, sweet husband. If you wonder why I write so often about love, well. There you go.