In the months after the dragons plunged back into the seas, we leveled Torchtown and commenced rebuilding our skyline from the ground up. Reported casualties were few, though we heard gunshots for days after the Outer Walls’ demolition, out in the streets past our deadbolts and blackout curtains. Cage-wagons full of feral orphans and grizzled chaw-worn youths rumbled over the bridges, never to return. It filled us with regret but relief also, a monstrous birth we had survived with only minor hemorrhaging. Now, we reminded ourselves, was the time to heal.
And heal we did. How could we not? In the first year after the dragons plunged back into the seas, we broke ground on dozens of new building projects, whimsical and ambitious, daydream spire-domes like the shells of snails who feed at the secret hot vents of the sea, digital clock towers that chimed the names of corporations. Soil experts excavated the park. Shops opened to sell Powdered Zip, Sin Buns, drain cleaner—were joined by new stores selling vintage furs and candied seahorses and gleaming wearable technology from the East. Young girls dressed as if for bed in iridescent slips and silvery anklets. A gilded, many-piped gongflugel rose skyward on creaking ropes; windows opened to receive it. The neighborhoods were vibrant and emerging. The city had character.
It was as good a time as any to come into one’s inheritance.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I want to thank my phenomenal agent, Bill Clegg, who went above and beyond with reads, rereads, and reactions at every stage of the manuscript—without his incomparable insights and enthusiasm, my novel would never have found this final form or home. Everyone at the Clegg Agency has been so generous and engaged throughout the entire process: kudos to Chris Clemens, Marion Duvert, Henry Rabinowitz, and Simon Toop.
I’d also like to thank my editor, Lindsay Sagnette, for lending her pitch-perfect sense of pacing, character, and language to this project. It’s been a treat to work with the whole team at Hogarth/Crown, especially Rose Fox, Nathan Roberson, Jillian Buckley, the publicity and marketing folks, and Michael Morris.
I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to Stephen Wright, whose visionary novels never cease to amaze and inspire, and in whose invaluable workshop at the 92nd Street Y so many of these chapters took shape. Hooray also for my terrific cohort from that class, especially Carol Prisant, Elena Sigman, Pierre Hauser, Leslie Margolis, Jon Gingerich, Patricia Kruger, and Zak Van Buren.
Much appreciation to Olena Jennings, Ryan Joe, Emily Mintz, Penn Genthner, Valerie Wetlaufer, Stephen Siegel & Nina Stern, Courtney Elizabeth Mauk & Eric Wolff, David Burr Gerrard, Daniel Villarreal, and Meredith Dumyahn for their various and sundry contributions to my world and to the world of this book. Hugs to the Taxier and McConnell families. And shout-outs to everyone in the NYC speculative fiction community, particularly Karen Heuler, Nicholas Kaufmann, and Jim Freund, for giving me the opportunity—and the confidence—to share pieces of this novel at readings when it was still just a work-in-progress.
I am immensely grateful to my parents, Deborah and Dale Smith; without their unyielding love and support I never would have taken on such an ambitious project, let alone finished it. And I consider myself very, very lucky to share my life and work with Eric Taxier (my first reader and partner in all things) and Wolfy (our little hooligan).
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHANDLER KLANG SMITH is a graduate of Bennington College and the creative writing MFA program at Columbia University. She lives in New York City.
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The Sky Is Yours Page 46
