River of Dust (31 page)

    My father soon returned to China as a translator for the U.S. Marine Corps, and thanks in part to the G.I. Bill, he studied at Yale and went on to become a prominent sinologist in the field of political science. He authored over twenty books on China and the postwar developing countries of Asia. He always said that political scientists were frustrated novelists, but I think he was just being kind to me— although his scholarly approach did center on hard-to-quantify subjects such as the Chinese political mind and spirit.

    Although I have never been to China, I was steeped in its aura. I grew up in a household decorated with Chinese objects, and they carried with them the feeling of an earlier time. My grandmother Gertrude doted on me as the youngest, and together we held tea parties using her finest porcelains from Shanxi. Families pass down wisdom and pain often in equal measure, and I sensed my father and grandmother's losses in China. Like many American families, the earlier generations survived experiences that we can hardly imagine, yet strangely inherit. This book is a fictional expression of that distant, haunted time and place— one that exists in my mind and not precisely on any map.

Like many debut novels,
River of Dust
has many generous people behind its creation. I am deeply grateful to Greg Michalson for his insightful and wise editing and for deciding that this story was worthy of Unbridled's excellent name. Much appreciation, too, goes to my agent, Gail Hochman, for taking on this project with enthusiasm. I especially want to thank Nancy Zafris, brilliant author and teacher, for her invaluable help redirecting my energies so that I wrote
this
manuscript in particular, and also for seeing that it was read by the right person at the right moment.

    For a number of years, I worked on a previous manuscript set partly in China. While that book did not find its way to publication, many kind friends read part or all of earlier incarnations: Margaret Buchanan, Patty Smith, Nathan Long, Susann Cokal, the late Emyl Jenkins, Rosemary Ahern, James Marcus, Kirk Schroeder, Phyllis Theroux, Brian Deleeuw, Meg Medina, Julie Heffernan, Jonathan Kalb, Kate Davis, David Heilbroner, Karl Marlantes, and Robert Goolrick. Additional authors Gigi Amateau, Leslie Pietrzyk, Belle Boggs, James Prosek, Dean King, Suzanne Berne, Sheri Holman, and Arielle Eckstut also generously extended a hand to help me join their ranks.

    For many years I have benefited from the encouraging company of writers and publishing professionals through the literary nonprofit organization James River Writers. The Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, WriterHouse, the Tin House Writer's Workshop, and the Acadia Summer Arts Program have each offered time, fine company, and a place to work.

    My siblings, Lyndy and Chris, have offered generous support over decades, as have my in-laws, Carol and Earl Ravenal. I wish that my mother and father were here to enjoy this publication. My mother, Mary Toombs Waddill, was a crackerjack editor and reader, and her wisdom, goodness, and love continue to guide me always. My father wrote prolifically for decades, sometimes with a Red Sox or Celtics game on the TV, and showed me that writing can be both a discipline and a joy.

    And, finally, this novel is dedicated to my immediate family: Eva, for her bright spirit and abiding faith in me and herself; Daniel, for his clearheadedness, humor, and solid love; and, most of all, John, who has been at my side for thirty-plus years and has helped us to make a hopeful life together where I could pursue what I wanted most.