For Haley, Karissa, Madison, and Kass.
When you graduated I wanted to skip “Pomp and Circumstance” and play “Ride of the Valkyries.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, thank you to my readers and fans (yikes, I have fans). Especially that one lovely woman who has been to seven of my book events and the guy who asked me to sign his abs—you know who you are.
Without readers, authors would be trees that fall in the forest, unheard. So thank you for sharing this journey with me once again, and for passing this novel to a friend, pitching it to your book club, posting about it on Goodreads, or just setting it on your coffee table as a reminder that the written word still has a place in the wonderful world of Netflix.
Then there are all the amazing indie bookstores out there that have been so good to me. As Neil Gaiman once said, “I do not believe there is a wrong way to buy books. I think that the best way to buy books is from a local indie bookshop, if you have one.”
In my travels, I’ve visited stores in nearly every state in the Union (coming for you soon, Mississippi and West Virginia). But the one that is near and dear to my heart these days is Cassiopeia Books here in my adopted hometown of Great Falls, run by Andrew Guschausky—part bookseller, part therapist, Andrew regularly opens my mind to books and music, simply by using the algorithm of his imagination.
In that same vein, thank you to all of my librarian friends, using your superpowers for good. You are a sacred order, the Knights Templar, the men and women of the Night’s Watch, guarding us from a 1,000-year Kardashian winter. I was privileged to give a keynote talk last year to the Kentucky Library Association, which only underscored my immense respect and admiration for both your profession, and your bourbon.
Then there are those who might not think I remember—a small group of readers on Lummi Island, in particular: Isabel Gates, Paula Chu, Henry Chu, Margaret Lyons, Jennifer Hansen, Stephanie Inslee, Cindy Maxwell, Christina Claassen. Thanks for letting me share part of an early draft, and for your gracious feedback.
Research-wise, I’m hopelessly indebted to the authors of these books in particular for letting me stand on their shoulders and take in the view regarding:
—
THE HISTORY OF THE AYP AND THE CENTURY 21 EXPO: Picturing the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition by Nicolette Bromberg and John Stamets; The Future Remembered: The 1962 Seattle World’s Fair and Its Legacy by Paula Becker, Alan J. Stein, and The HistoryLink Staff; Senate Documents of the 61st Congress, 3rd Session, Vol. 29. (This was the complete report by Board and Managers of the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition. Yes, I actually read this stuff. I know—it’s a sickness.)
—
LOST DETAILS ABOUT SEATTLE: Sons of the Profits by William C. Speidel; Seattle Past to Present by Roger Sale; On the Harbor by John C. Hughes and Ryan Teague Beckwith; Echoes of Puget Sound by Captain Torger Birkeland; Seattle Vice by Rick Anderson; Only the Drums Remembered by Ralph Chaplin; Skid Road by Murray Morgan; and the Social Blue Book, Seattle, 1958–1959.
—
ASIAN AMERICAN HISTORY, because I can never get enough: Dim Sum—The Seattle ABC (American Born Chinese) Dream by Vera Ing; Unbound Feet by Judy Yung; Fierce Compassion—The Life of Abolitionist Donaldina Cameron by Kristin and Kathryn Wong; Chinatown’s Angry Angel by Mildred Crowl Martin.
—
THE ROLES OF WOMEN IN PRE-EDWARDIAN AMERICA: Manners, Culture, and Dress of the Best American Society by Richard A. Wells, 1891, where I learned “A lady cannot shake off an improper acquaintance with the same facility as a gentleman.” Sadly, the same rules still apply on Facebook. And What Can a Woman Do by Mrs. M. L. Rayne. (This was a used book from 1884, and pressed inside was a long-forgotten four-leaf clover. Here’s hoping there’s no statute of limitations on luck.)
—
PROSTITUTION AND SEATTLE’S SUFFRAGE MOVEMENT: The Story of Yamada Waka: From Prostitute to Feminist Pioneer by Tomoko Yamazaki; Twice Sold, Twice Ransomed by Mrs. Emma J. Ray.
—
SPEAKING OF, I owe a whisper of thanks to Maggie McNeil, former librarian and current sex-work advocate, for confirming the assumptions of my research into Seattle’s red-light district and for disabusing me of other notions about her profession.
Then there are the institutions that I rely on for inspiration as much as confirmation: The Wing Luke Museum of the Asian Pacific American Experience, Seattle’s Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI), Historylink.org, the Seattle Public Library, and the University of Washington’s Special Collections.
Of course, there’s my amazing team at Penguin Random House (who missed a chance to work for a company called Random Penguin): Kara Welsh, Kim Hovey, Jennifer Garza, Anne Speyer, Anastasia Whalen, Samantha Leach, Quinne Rogers, Vincent La Scala, and Libby McGuire—you are missed, Libby, but godspeed in your new adventures.
And lest I forget, Christie Hinrichs, Tess Boyd, and the crew at Books in Common for sending me hither and thither for speaking events and indulging my penchant for literary vaudeville. Thanks to you, I travel so much I think I’m now allergic to airline peanuts.
Finally, there is the holy trinity of my writing life.
My über-agent, Kristin Nelson. Back in the day, I had offers from four other agents, all in NYC. But I went with my heart and an up-and-coming agent based out of Denver who saw the publishing world differently. Now a force in the industry, Kristin has forty NYT bestsellers to her name. (I think I made the right call.)
My amazing editor, Jennifer Hershey, for her patience as my deadlines whooshed by, and for her prolific insight. When writing, I’m sometimes like a person on the dance floor, using so many moves that bystanders think I’m having a seizure. Somehow Jennifer saw the rhythm worth salvaging.
My lovely wife, Leesha, with her Red Pen of Destiny, who tolerates my abuse of the Oxford comma, as well as my never-ending book travels, even when I’m home, up in my office, staring into space, wandering off somewhere in my mind.
Jamie Ford
Montana, February 2017