by Andrew Smith
It was a good idea, even if I never actually wanted anyone to read what I wrote.
Thank you, Kelly.
About two years ago, I decided to stop writing. Well, to be honest, not the verb writing, but I decided to get out of the business aspect of it, for which I have absolutely no backbone. I never felt so free as when I wrote things that I believed nobody would ever see. Grasshopper Jungle was one of those things. It was more-or-less fortune, then, that I happened to show the first portion of the novel to my friend Michael Bourret. He talked me into not quitting. Michael is, after all, a magical agent. I think when he walks into offices and shit like that, people believe they are looking at a baby harp seal. Nobody says no to a baby harp seal. Michael wanted to represent me and this novel that nobody was supposed to see.
It was a good idea. Thank you, Michael.
We made a list: Who did I want to show Grasshopper Jungle to, well . . . besides nobody? And on that list was Julie Strauss-Gabel. I never thought I’d hear from her, much less get the chance to work with her, but Julie gave me a phone call. We wanted to work together.
It was a good idea.
In fact, I have to say that working with Julie Strauss-Gabel as my editor and publisher on Grasshopper Jungle has been one of the most rewarding experiences in my writing career. Thank you, Julie.
Most writers never know the name of the person who copyedits their books. Copy editors are the people who tell writers they don’t know the difference between restrictive and nonrestrictive clauses, or between Latin dance steps and dessert toppings.
I suppose it is a good idea to know these things.
My copy editor, museum date, and Hell’s Kitchen dining partner whenever I go to New York, Anne Heausler, is simply the best; and she is so gentle when battering my self-esteem with her Chicago Manual of Style or Webster’s Dictionary. Thank you, Anne.
And finally, I don’t know if having a writer in the family is such a good idea. But I must give thanks and love to my wife, Jocelyn; my son, Trevin; and daughter, Chiara, for being such dynamos at putting up with me.
