Then there’s my dad. If it weren’t for his positive reaction nearly forty years ago when I broke the news that I’d rather be a writer and a bartender than get my MBA, I’d probably be a CEO, outsourcing jobs and stashing profits offshore. Thanks for having the faith, Dad. As I recall, you were pleased that at least I wasn’t going to wind up a lawyer.
A non-alcoholic toast to my maternal Granny, who for years replied to any inquiries regarding her grandson’s profession by remarking, in her best Downton Abbey manner, “Oh, yes…George is at the bar,” hoping they’d think I was a lawyer.
Here’s to my mom, who, if there’s any justice, basks in an afterlife principally surrounded by her beloved poodles. I am indebted to Mom for much of what passes for my sense of humor. She did in fact drag me to many places of worship—and I repaid the investment in my spiritual growth by forbidding her a pagan Christmas tree, once upon a time. For reals, no good deed goes unpunished.
I am oh-so-fortunate to have found my wonderful cover designer Dane Low, who came up with something for this book I never could have dreamed. Thanks for making sure this thing didn’t look like a thriller or a romance. Though it might’ve sold better…
Fist bump to Ozzie Ausband of Blue Tile Obsession, who kept my skating sequences at least semi-legit. To my surprise, riders are not actually superheroes, able to ollie over six-foot cinder block walls in a single bound. At least not yet.
Cheers to my proofreader, Helen Baggott, who found far more mistakes than I’d have imagined. Who’d have thought it would take a woman from England to teach me how to spell “Spider-Man”?!
Mil gracias to longtime amigo Luis Contreras, a supremely gifted artist who’s been beautifying my life for more than twenty-five years. His logo perfectly captures the gentle loving spirit of the granddog for whom Chelsea Press is named.
Last, kudos to my supremely talented and tactful editor, Tim Parolini, whose contributions improved the book immensely. Such was his insight and diplomacy that he persuaded me to make almost every alteration, which Liz could hardly believe. Any subpar content has, I’m sure, been retained against Tim’s objections.
It’s been a delight—and having done this once, I can’t wait to do it again.
About the Author
No surprise, George Crowder has done time with the Buddhists, the Baptists, the Catholics, and the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Well…maybe some of that’s a surprise…
He has worked variously as a bartender, waiter, restaurant manager, window washer, grocery clerk, delivery driver, telemarketer, bead stringer, and screenwriter. Failing upward, he turned to education, and spent twenty-two years teaching third, fourth, and fifth grade, and as an elementary math specialist.
Pastimes include woodworking, tennis, hiking, playing guitar, speaking Italian, eating Italian, drinking Italian, and fraternizing with three adorable grandchildren.
He is the best-selling author of, uh, nothing… yet…
Follow George on Facebook and at www.georgecrowder.com.
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