Lightbringer 1 - The Black Prism
Acknowledgments
Two years ago, I sent my Night Angel trilogy into the world with the typical triumph and terror. I’ve burned to be a novelist since I was thirteen. This was my shot, my chance to run the gauntlet of the masses. A hundred things can bury a debut, and just to push off the necessity of getting a real job, I needed my debut to do better than most. But dreams burn to the ground every day. Tragedies happen.
But so do miracles.
So my first thank-you is to you readers who gave an unknown guy with some ninja novel a chance. And thank you especially to you readers who then handed my book to a friend and said, “Try this. No, really, try it.” And a double especially with whip and a chocolate-covered espresso bean to those of you who work at bookstores who did that, from Albuquerque to Perth. You all have changed my life. It is a huge privilege to get to write for a living, so thank you.
Kristi, you are grace and tenacity. I wouldn’t be living the dream without you, and I wouldn’t want to. Thanks for having that crazy impractical streak where it comes to me, an inch wide and a mile deep.
Don, thank you for not just wrangling deals, but also knowing when to say no to them. Thank you for steering me to work with people who will be passionate about my books. Cameron, thanks for foisting my books on the unwary all over the world.
Devi, thank you for using the fierce Eye of Sauron—no, not on me!—but secretly on my behalf. And to you and Tim, Alex, Jack, and Jennifer, I promised you this book would be my shortest, and it turned into my longest, causing headaches for everyone. Rather than beating me to get the next product in the supply chain, you’ve allowed me a huge amount of autonomy. I appreciate your faith in me and all you do to make me successful. You guys are fearless and brilliant, and it’s great to work with you.
Thanks to all the other folks at Hachette, from the nameless unpaid interns (hang in there!), to the guy who keeps the computers running, to Gina (I really owe you several nice dinners, don’t I?), to the patient production people who have good reason to hate me. But I pass all hatred along to my editor, Devi. (She also likes unsolicited manuscripts! Here’s her home phone number and personal email @.)
Heather and Andrew, thank you for all your work in managing the forum. You’ve allowed me to connect with my fans—and still have time to write. Thank you thank you thank you.
I’m afraid I’ve rewarded the friends and family who tolerated many email updates over the years (how many words can you use to say “still no book sale”?) by being so busy in the last two years that I hardly ever update them at all. If you were in the first acknowledgments, thank you again.
Cody L., your enthusiasm is better than coffee. Shaun and Diane M., thank you for your wise counsel and friendship. Scot and Kariann B., thanks for the trips to Red Robin every time we sold a foreign right. (Italy, huzzah!) Dr. Jacob K., thanks for awesome impromptu lectures, gentle translation corrections, and “promachos.” Thank you to Dr. Jon L., who once said, “Wouldn’t it be cool if instead of [genre trope], the hero [inverse of genre trope]?” That seed niggled at me for years, Jon. I have since found the very good reasons why more writers haven’t done that—and had a blast doing it anyway. Thank you to Seiei, who changed this whole book with a couple of tweets. Thank you Nate D., for genius brainstorming, and Laura J. D., for insights into two things I will probably never truly understand: women, and being incredibly fit. Any errors in this book are theirs.
Thank you Rockstar Energy Drink. Those years you took off my life were probably the bad ones anyway.
And last, thank you to you unshakably curious readers who still read acknowledgments though you aren’t looking for your name. What, the book wasn’t long enough for you? Go on, get outta here and go tell someone, “You gotta read this! No, really. C’mon, there’s a maa-aap.”