Man, this section is something I never thought I’d end up writing. Same goes for the rest of the book, if I’m being honest. I guess I should’ve known better, though. I should’ve seen this all coming.
Not because of me—God, no—but because of the people who’ve helped me with my writing, with my speaking, with landing a job with a desk, with everything. With those people supporting me—with their brilliance, their kindness, and their willingness to curse me out as needed—even a scrub like me had a chance to do something like this.
Katel LeDû, Jeffrey Zeldman, and Jason Santa Maria: you’ve built something incredible in A Book Apart, and I am tremendously honored to have been able to play some small part in it. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this opportunity.
Peter Richardson and Mike Pennisi, I can’t imagine two better people to put to rest the haunting feeling that I’d flubbed a term, dropped a semicolon, or—horror of horrors—mistaken
undefined for a function. I owe you one, for every “actually” I don’t hear after this goes to print.
Erin Kissane, without you involved, there was no way I could’ve worded goodly enough for book-making. Knowing that you would be my lead editor, after admiring so much of your work over the years—it might’ve been the first time I felt like I could actually pull this thing off.
LMM, it is rad that you edited my book. It is radder that you are my girlfriend. It is radder still that you remained my girlfriend, y’know, despite having to work with me on my book. I couldn’t have done this without you. I couldn’t do damn near anything without you. Thank you for so, so much; for everything.
Lastly, hey, Ma—remember the time Dad told me to “get something published” for him, a couple years back? Between that and “we should fix up an old bike someday,” he’s still a pain in the ass.
I guess one out of two ain’t bad.