Marc, B-Money, Rafe, Weez, Surly Jim, Burglar, Eli, Beiber, The Dread Pirate Glouftis, Bertie, Tom, Steve, Mini, Chris, Gav and all other members of my nerd posse, past and present, for getting me out of the godsdamn house occasionally.
The inimitable Doctor Sam Bowden, for the hasty class on tension pneumothorax, and dragging his fiiiine self all the way across the country for my book launch.
Eamon Kenny, for setting me straight on all things radio (even though we cut 90 percent of it in edits).
Kristy Echeverria for allllll the gory details.
Araki Miho, once again, for her beautiful calligraphy.
Jimmy the Orrsome for our clan logos (shoulda charged a percentage, man), and Sir Christopher Tovo for the lurrrve on film.
Jason Chan, holy shit, dude. You can be my wingman anytime.
The book bloggers—too many to mention, never too many to remember—who did so much to get this thing’s clockwork wings off the ground. You people are so very, very metal. You know who you are. I know who you are. Never stop being awesome.
The incredible people who made me poetry or music or paintings or reviews, who took this thing I created and created something themselves. That, more than anything on this strange little ride, has struck me as extraordinary.
My family for never really changing, despite the distance and the years.
And last but far from least:
You.