I Am Half-Sick Of Shadows

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

 

AGAIN TO MY EDITORS, Bill Massey, of Orion Books in London, and Kate Miciak, of Random House in New York City. Bill and Kate have been joint—and fearsome—Keepers-of-the-Gate while I’ve been away in 1950. Words can never express my gratitude.

 

To Kristin Cochrane and Brad Martin, of Doubleday Canada, whose faith in Flavia has never wavered. Kristin has twice stood in for me to accept awards: the kind of debt that can never be repaid.

 

To my agent, Denise Bukowski, for being there, always prepared, every step of the way. And to Sandra Homer, Elizabeth De Francesca, and John Greenwell of the Bukowski Agency, for scaling the mountains of paperwork, all with good humor.

 

To my friends John and Janet Harland, for their comments and many valuable suggestions.

 

To Susan Corcoran, Sharon Propson, and Sharon Klein, of Random House, my peerless publicists, those superheroes of the publishing world who do all the heavy lifting.

 

To Randall Klein, of Random House, who wears so many hats—all of them perfectly fitted, and to my copy editor, Connie Munro.

 

To Urban Hofstetter, of Random House, Germany, for his editorship and friendship; to Inge Kunzelmann, who got us on and off trains and planes throughout all of Germany without ever losing her smile; and to Sebastian Rothfuss for his valuable assistance with a most convoluted research question.

 

To my two charming masters of ceremonies, Margarete von Schwarzkopf in Berlin, Hanover, Frankfurt, and Cologne, and Hendrik Werner in Hanover, who translated with great style and good humor, making me sound as if I knew what I was talking about in German.

 

To the remarkable Anna Thalbach. It was my great privilege to sit at Anna’s side night after night as she brought Flavia to life before enraptured audiences.

 

To Axel Schumbrutzki, of the bookshop Hugendubel, and Florian Kr?ckel of Heimthafen Neuk?lln, who arranged a memorable evening in a vintage 1930s dance hall in East Berlin. Life is made of memories like this. Thank you, Axel and Florian.

 

To Klaus Eberitzsch of the bookshop Leuenhagen & Paris, in Hanover, who shares a birthday with me: same day, same year: We are now officially brothers. To Dirk Eberitzsch and Ina Albert, also of Leuenhagen & Paris. Ina and Klaus became the first booksellers ever to rush out into a busy street to hug me as I was still climbing out of a taxicab. Now I know why everyone loves Hanover!

 

To Mike Altwicker of the bookshop Hansen & Kr?ger, in Cologne, who not only organized, but got us to and from, a most memorable reading at Castle Bielstein.

 

To Camille Poshoglian, of Orion Books, master of international scheduling; and to Mike Vella De Fremeaux and Faye Bonnici, of Miller Distributors, Malta.

 

And finally, as always, with love, to my wife, Shirley, who has spent so many happy hours with me at Buckshaw.

 

 

 

 

 

ALAN BRADLEY WAS BORN in Toronto and grew up in Cobourg, Ontario. Prior to taking early retirement to write in 1994, he was director of television engineering at the University of Saskatchewan media center for twenty-five years. His versatility has earned him awards for his children’s books, radio broadcasts of his short stories, and national print for his journalism. He also co-authored Ms. Holmes of Baker Street, to great acclaim and much controversy, followed by a poignant memoir, The Shoebox Bible. His first Flavia de Luce mystery, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, received the Crime Writers’ Association Debut Dagger Award, the first Saskatchewan Writers Guild Award for Children’s Literature, the Dilys Award, the Agatha Award, and both the Macavity and Barry awards for best first novel. Bradley lives in Malta with his wife and two calculating cats, and is currently working on the next Flavia de Luce mystery.

Bradley, Alan's books