I wish I could give a cookie and a hug to each of the readers, teachers, bloggers, librarians, and booksellers who have supported me along this journey … Since that’s creepy, I’ll just offer sugar-coated gratitude instead.
Without the following people, Brighton and Jonah’s story would never have made it into your hands. I am so thankful that they’re in my life:
Joe Monti, Agent Extraordinaire, thank you for understanding what this book meant to me. I hope you understand what you mean to me too. Barry, Tricia, and the rest of the Goldblatt team—I raise a glass of jelly beans in your honor.
The talented group at Walker Books for Young Readers: Emily Easton, who pushed me with fabulous editorial notes; Laura Whitaker, who knew just when I needed to hear “I’m proud of you”; Rachel Stark, Emily Ritter, Patricia McHugh, Bridget Hartzler, Katy Hershberger, Jenna Pocius, and Erica Barmash, who did a zillion lovely, supportive, behind-the-scenes things to make my books better.
The artificially colored pieces of heaven I call Revision Skittles, whose sugar highs kept me going during many, many late-night writing sessions.
The best critique partners an author could dream of: Emily Hainsworth (Team Jonah) and Courtney Summers (Team Brighton)—whose amazing and insightful advice is ALWAYS contradictory. I would be saner without them both, but the story would be weaker. And sanity is overrated.
Team Sparkle—Scott Tracey and Victoria Schwab, without whom I’d never believe I could “write boy,” and Linda Grimes and Susan Adrian, who patiently brainstormed bucketfuls of titles.
My local writing support group: Jonathan Maberry, who wins the gold in author mentorship; Nancy Keim Comley, Elisa Ludwig, Eugene Myers, Kate Walton, Gail Yates, Eve Marie Mont, Tiff Emerick, Jen Zelesko, and Heather Hebert—they will always have a place in my heart, house, and in-box.
Taylor Mysza—who wrangled my Schmidtlets so I had time to write. I’m sorry for all the times they made her sing Taylor Swift—someday they’ll figure out the Taylors are not the same person.
The Apocalypsies—well, the world didn’t end in 2012 and I’m so glad! Because we all have oodles more stories to tell, and I can’t wait to read them.
And always, my family, who let me dream, explore, and get into lots of mischief; my in-laws, who are endlessly generous with their babysitting time and help; and my puggles, who are only slightly more obedient than Never, but I love them anyway.
My impish Schmidtlets, I could write a whole book about how much I love you … and if I did, you’d insist the last words be: “And fireworks!” (Dear Readers, I have no idea why … It’s just a Schmidtlet Storytime Rule.)
Lastly, St. Matt—You’re pretty cute in that halo. I love you.
And fireworks!