An acknowledgement is a terrifying thing to write – no book, or indeed writer, happens in isolation. If I have missed anyone out here, I apologize now. It was not intentional.
I’d like to thank everyone at Michael Joseph, in particular my editor Emad Akhtar (and his wonderful, perceptive suggestions for the text), my publicist Ellie Hughes and my copy-editor Shauna Bartlett. I’d also like to thank Claire Wachtel and Hannah Wood at HarperCollins and Sally Wofford-Girand at Union Literary in the US for believing in me.
None of this would have been remotely possibly without my agent Judith Murray and her unflagging faith, encouragement, and good counsel, so all praise goes to her and to everyone at Greene and Heaton.
I could go no further without acknowledging my buds from my bookselling days – in particular Jon Atkin, Lesley Baker, Trish Beswick, Sam Hobbs, Marie Kervin, Nick Lewis, Julian Rafot and the rest of the Manchester crew. Thanks, guys.
I owe a huge debt to the T Party writing group in London, and to the following people for a fund of friendship and laughter: Jack Calverley, Peter Colley, Gary Couzens, Sarah Ellender, David Gullen, Caroline Hooton, Julia Knight, Martin Owton, Sumit Paul-Choudhury, Tom Pollock, Rosanne Rabinowitz, Gaie Sebold, Allyson Shaw and Sara Jayne Townsend, as well as Raymond Dickey, Chuck Dreyer, Gordon Fraser, Lucia Graves and Luke Thomas. I would also like to remember Mark McCann and Denni Schnapp, who are sadly missed.
Special thanks must go to KD Grace for her unflinching encouragement, hours of writing talk, wonderful Anglo-American Christmasses and for not panicking that time I nearly drowned us on the way home from Avebury. Blame the ghost – I do.
Likewise, love is owed to the dazzlingly clever Melanie Garrett for gourmet cookery, inspired criticism, big ideas and bigger cocktails. She taught me that there is no problem in life or literature that cannot be knitted into submission. The next coffee in Cobham is on me.
I also gratefully remember Iain Banks, a generous friend and cherished correspondent who at all times and in all places showed me how to be a real writer.
Finally I’d be nothing without my friends and family. To Julie Revell, who never reads anything I write; to my brothers John and Joseph and my sister Jacqueline and to their families; and at last to my long-suffering parents, George and Ellen Callaghan – thanks. We got there in the end.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
HELEN CALLAGHAN was born in California to British parents, and her early years were spent in both the United States and United Kingdom. She was a fiction specialist and buyer for Athena Bookshop, Dillons, and Waterstones for eight years. She read archaeology at Cambridge University, a subject she is still passionate about, and works in IT.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
