The Wonder That Was Ours

by Alice Hatcher

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I AM IMMENSELY GRATEFUL to everyone at Dzanc Books, including Steve Gillis and Dan Wickett, for giving this book a great home, and especially to Michelle Dotter, editor extraordinaire, whose insights and suggestions made this a much better novel than it was when she found it, and its author a much better writer. Dzanc’s judges, readers, and interns provided invaluable input and suggestions, and I owe more than a few people beers.

  I am deeply indebted to numerous friends who amaze and inspire me with their creativity and kindness and far too often talk me down from the cliff. For friendship and support, many thanks to Sandie Maxa, Sue Maxa-Hofmann, Meghan McCarthy, Kate Mudge, Ged Gillmore, Anne Fisher, Karen Coleman, Chris Scott, Michele Strong, Lia Paradis, Deborah Wallace, Daniela Triadan, Linda Greene, Gunther Ding, Maureen and Ray Noeth, Dick Derick, Jean Emrick, Amanda Quinby, Bryn McFarland, Andrea Piomelli, Robin Israel, Summerson Carr, Sarah Womack, and Helen Faller. Emma Blake did overtime by reading an early draft and reminding me that cockroaches dig Prince. Dev Ashish, Blake Ashley, and Michele Rivette gave me the tools I needed to mine sources of gratitude. Two wonderful teachers, Meg Files and Juliet Niehaus, reminded me that the process of learning and growing never ends.

  RAW provided an intellectual home and source of salvation more times than I can count. Stephen L. Russell and Bill Adams helped form the core of a fanatical reading group and rallied behind the cockroaches from the very start. I hope we get seats near one another on the Mother Ship when it finally arrives. Philip Ivory, Rebecca McSwain, Marilyn Spencer, Linda Brewer, Barbara Kapange, Becky Pallack, Tom Prinster, Dave Dickerson, and Victor Hightower provided invaluable feedback, a safe space to be weird, and endless inspiration through their unwavering focus on craft.

  Many other friends shared the wisdom and resources I sorely lacked stumbling into the final stretch. Reneé Bibby, Adrienne Celt, Lilian Vercauteren, Dana Diehl, and Morgan Miller converged on cafés every Write Wednesday, and thanks to all of you, and to everyone else who showed up to get down to biz, I feel much less adrift in a sea of Arizona sand. I owe a special thanks to Michelle Ross for reading closely and helping me keep my priorities in order when I started losing my way. Eric Besté, an amazing correspondent, never let me forget why I was doing this.

  This book is dedicated, in part, to Melissa Noeth, my first human contact in Tucson. I still miss the warmth and laughter you brought to the world. Thank you to Brenda Pentland for serving as an intellectual beacon and spiritual guide in the psychic wilderness, and for listening to my rants and rambling drafts. Riley Hardesty pulled me out of countless ruts and, just as I was about to toss in the towel, reminded me of a certain cockroach-infested car and encouraged me to have faith in the strange. Emily Ignacio, a sister of another mother, alleviated some of the fear of moving forward, even when things seemed dire in the interstate Zey-Hive. Many thanks to my mother for reading to me and sparking my imagination with repeated trips to the library when I was young, and much gratitude to Bob and Florence, who believed when few others did.

  Finally, I dedicate this novel to Lars, for his boundless intelligence and insight, and much more importantly, for all of the love, understanding, and patience that made this novel possible. I love you.